#April Fool's suckers

[skyloftian-nutcase]

The evening brought a chill as Abel held Link closer. Tilieth was working on cooking dinner for the family, and they were in an area he had just cleared of monsters, so he knew they would be safe for now. It left him time to just hold his son, to look him over and be content in the moment.

Considering such moments came so rarely, he would take what he could of it.

It hadn't even been a hard day. Aside from the skirmish with the beasts, they'd found nearly half a dozen shrines, and they'd all been simple puzzles. No strenuous climbing, no catapults, no endless pits... and at the end of it all, Link's wounds had improved greatly with each spirit orb they found.

And now, Tilieth hummed off tune as usual, bringing a smile to Abel's lips as he gazed at his boy. Link looked serene, resting comfortably on his father's lap, and he turned his head slightly to snuggle in closer. Abel felt his heart speed up a little at the sight of it, considering the boy was usually not reactive at all. Were the spirit orbs really helping that much?

Link sighed steadily through his nose, and then his eyes fluttered open.

Abel jumped a little, reaching for some broth they had set aside for the next time the boy woke. He sat Link up a little, whispering, "Hey, little knight. Time for some food, okay? Can you stay awake?"

Link kept his eyes open, drinking the offered broth as Abel tipped the bottle back for him. The boy had been far more interactive lately, though still clearly not really lucid. At least the fear of him dying of dehydration or starvation was greatly lessened than it used to be.

Link hummed when he was finished, leaning against his father's shoulder and smiling. Abel stared at him, blinking, completely caught off guard. Slowly, he put the bottle down and poked the boy's chest. Link scrunched his nose in response.

Could he be...? "...Link?"

He looked at him.

His boy was looking at him.

Abel stared into the teenager's blue eyes, breathless, his own eyes blown wide. Link blinked blearily, tired, but smiled a little more. "Hi, Papa."

Tilieth's humming stopped immediately, and the sound of a ladel clattering to the ground came next as she rushed over. "Link?!"

Their son turned his head to look at his mother as she fell to her knees beside him.

"Link!" she sobbed, holding him as Abel continued to stare in shock. He--he was--

"Oh, honey," Tilieth cooed, rocking him and holding and probably never ever letting go again. "Honey, you're okay, you're awake!"

"Mama," Link muttered into her collarbone. "You're squishing me."

Tilieth laughed. "That's all you have to say at a time like this?! You silly little goose, do you--"

His wife sobered for a moment, and continued hesitantly, "D-do you remember anything?"

Link watched her curiously, face still bright and open, as if he had no recollection of the Calamity whatsoever.

He doesn't remember it.

Abel came back to life, eyes stinging, hiccups tearing out of him. Link immediately looked at him, wiggling out of his mother's grip. "Papa?"

Abel's lip wobbled, and Link scooted back to his lap, letting his father practically collapse on him. "I missed you, son."

Link stiffened a little before returning the hug in full. "It wasn't your fault, Papa."

Abel jolted. "I--what--"

"It wasn't your fault," his son repeated, emphasizing his words and holding him tighter. "I love you, Papa. I love you so much."

Try as he might, Abel couldn't stop the tears. Something about the boy's words and tone, the fact that he was awake--everything poured out of him at once, sorrowful and joyful and beautiful, and he held his boy so tightly.

"I love you too, little knight."

Link held tighter. And tighter. And tighter until it felt like he was squeezing the life out of him, like he was trapped, and--

Abel opened his eyes, tangled in blankets, hearing Tilieth snoring beside him. Breath tickled his neck, and he looked down to see Link, pale, frail, and injured, sleeping between the parents.

The former knight poked the boy. He didn't stir.

Sighing, Abel wiped away the tears that had somehow managed to fall despite just dreaming, and went back to sleep.

[mementoasts]

i've drawn more fake plushies (they are fake) (not real) (please don't be mad at me 🥺)

[kkolg]

tumblr has been fun! But now I’m bored so I’m gonna dip-

it was nice meeting some humans ig

[ranchthoughts]

favourite waipa shots 💚❤️

[henrysglock]

hey guys i know today is probably the worst day to do this bc it’s april fools and all but like…i have to come clean. it’s been eating away at me.

i’ve been doctoring screenshots for my analyses as a social experiment this whole time. i wanted to see who would blindly believe me about tiny details in the show. it was shitty of me and I’m sorry 💔

below the cut are the original, unaltered screenshots from all my recent analyses so you can see the truth for yourself.

again…I’m sorry ☹️

[follovver]

me @ every single person i come across on tumblr today

[muppetydyke]

Muppet Mainstage, April 1st, 2024

“We Are Number One” was composed by Máni Svavarsson for season 4, episode 12 of Lazytown(2014). It was performed by Robbie Rotten (Stefán Karl Stefánsson), with backup from Bobby (Bjorn Thors), Tobby (Snorri Engilbertsson), and Flobby (Bergur Þór Ingólfsson). The song became a meme in 2016, sparking a resurgence of interest in the show, and helping fund treatment for Stefán Karl Stefánsson’s cancer treatment.

Happy April Fool’s Day!

[kirvee]

ah how i love crime

[sleepyleftistdemon]

I have a spotty memory.

One thing I have never forgotten was some of the April Fool's thing in an Atari Age magazine.

So...

Does anyone else remember from that particular issue the story about the GLS chip? It was short for "Good luck, Sucker!" and was the first chip designed to actually cheat at video games.

(Well, it didn't exist. It was just in the "article"...)

[sonoda-oomers]

being booped by total strangers made me weirdly happy. h

[2tcs]

Danny’s Journal or A Countdown to the Beginning

Summary: A look into the year leading up to the accident from the perspective of a forgotten journal.

February 9, 2002

Dear journal. Mom and Dad said they had a surprise for me and Jazz when we get home from school. Please God don't let it be another ghost gun or something. My hair is still singed from the last one.

Update. It was, in fact, a gun. Jazz now has a mild burn on her arm and is screaming how they need therapy. Not disagreeing but I don't think it's going to happen.

February 12, 2002

Dear journal. Happy birthday. A year ago Jazz gave you to me for my birthday. How my parents haven't accidentally destroyed you I don't know.

Me Tucker, Sam, and Jazz went out to eat for my birthday. Sam even had her family driver take us a town over to try that new restaurant. Well, that's what their excuse was.  I think they were trying to get me out of the house for a little bit since Mom and Dad are going on a rampage through the house disassembling all the appliances. It's 10 pm and I can still hear noise coming from the basement.

March 26, 2002

I have the best idea for an April Fools prank. It involves chez whiz and glitter.

April 1, 2002

The prank worked like a charm. The jocks are going to smell like cheese for weeks. And they ain't ever getting the glitter out.

On the downside. Dash broke my arm and Mom and Dad put a “Fenton Anti-ghost Cast” on me. It kinda glows and makes my arm feel weird.

April 23, 2002

Sam’s birthday party was a glorious disaster this year. Her mom decided to do a princess-themed party. We have been preparing for this day since Sam found one of her mom’s work journals. We managed to sneak paint and glitter bombs into the venue before anyone got there. We even managed to get one on each of the chandeliers. It was awesome. Everyone got covered in black paint and red glitter. 

What we didn’t account for was Grandma Ida hiring professional snake handlers to bring in a bunch of snakes for Sam. The snakes were non-venomous and luckily were all caught after one of the rich people bumped into the table that the snake cage was on. And the paint was non-toxic so it was easy to clean off the snakes too without them getting sick. Still kinda feel bad that the snakes got caught in the crossfire though.

May 20, 2002

🎵Schools out for the summer!🎵 Lol this is going to be so exciting. Our last summer as middle schoolers. Nothing but the big leagues after this!

June 13, 2002

Dad wants to go camping for Father's Day so we're going to head out tomorrow morning. Think I heard them mention Lake Arrowhead. That'll be cool. Haven't fished there before.

June 15, 2002

I don't know how but we're in Gotham. Apparently, there's some stupid ghost conversation going on so we're going to be stuck here for the next week. On the pulse side though I found a really cool cafe not too far from the hotel. And they don’t seem to care if you just hang out as long as their not busy and you buy something. Me and Jazz will probably be spending a lot of time here or at their library. It’s huge and has an entire section of space!

June 16, 2002

Turns out I'm allergic to something called Blood Blossoms. Mom and Dad ended up having some guy try to cleanse me of “the evil spook” after I accidentally brushed up against the flowers he had on his table. Jazz had to convince them to get me to the hospital. Luckily one of the guys walking around had an epi pen. So that helped. Still sucks and now I'm stuck at the hotel while Jazz frets like a mother hen. I don't think she's even realized that she has a rash on her hand from when she threw the flowers away from me.

June 19, 2002

So… Batman is real… wtf? He apparently has some questions for Mom and Dad but they haven't come back yet. He apologized to me and Jazz for waking us up and gave us suckers? Which. Weird. And Jazz threw them away when he left because “stranger danger is still a thing even if they are a hero”. RIP little Root Beer flavored DumDum. You will be missed.

And on the other hand, Robin was pretty cool. He's snarky and brave and hilarious and he is just so cool. 10/10 New favorite Robin. He even gave me a book recommendation for the report I'm supposed to turn in at the start of freshman year.

June 22, 2002

We were supposed to leave Gotham today. We were supposed to finally head to one of the lakes on the way home to do some camping and fishing. We were supposed to have a relaxing time. So please journal. Can you tell me why the giant wannabe scaly just threw the GAV? Now we are going to be stuck in this stupid city for another week while Mom and Dad fix it.

June 24, 2002

I made a new friend! Do you remember that cafe I talked about a few days ago? Well, I met a guy there. His name is Jason. He’s an absolute lit nerd but is way cool. The guy’s got muscles underneath his school uniform too. The guy looks like he could snap me like a twig yet isn’t at all like Dash. Hopefully, we can keep in contact after we head back to Amity. For now, we are planning on meeting up at the cafe tomorrow with our favorite books. I found “Star Stories”at the library so I’m bringing it with me. I don’t know if he likes stars but I hope he likes some of the stories about them.

July 9, 2002

Finally back at home. Dad had smuggled fireworks into the GAV (how they didn’t explode when KC threw it in Gotham idk) so we spent the 4th of July shooting them off at the lake. We ended up going to Lake Erie for the camping trip because Mom heard something at the convention about a ghost hanging out around there. Didn’t see any ghosts but the fishing was good. I even caught a bass the size of my head! All around it was really fun! Oh and the stars were so clear! The Summer Triangle was so clear you could point out Vega, Deneb, and Altair! It was so cool! Did you know that Vega is in the Lyra constellation? Or Deneb is in the Cygnus Constellation. And Altair is a part of the Aquila constellation!

Maybe I should ask if Mom and Dad could get me another journal for charting the stars. I’ll need the practice if I want to become an astronaut.

July 29, 2002

It’s a good thing that I got two of everything when me, Sam, and Tucker went shopping for school supplies. I got a lot of new space-themed stuff but the moment I got home Dad insisted on ghost-proofing my new backpack… It melted. I don’t even know how he managed to melt a canvas bag. It didn’t even catch fire first. Just started melting the moment Dad started spraying his new “Fenten Ecto-Rejecto Spray” on it. Wtf Dad.

On the plus side, Sam found a new coffin backpack and Tucker was able to get a new bag that had a pouch that he can put the walkman he got yesterday for his birthday. He is so hyped about it. 

August 6, 2002

School starts next week and I am so hyped. Finally going to be a high schooler. Cool Kids Club here we go!

August 15, 2002

Kill me now. May the Gods strike me down and end my suffering. May the Faits find me lacking and cut my string. May the Crone tear me from the tapestry, the mother rejects my thread from the loom and the maiden take the wool of my youth and set it aside.

Sam has just informed me that that isn’t quite what the Mother, Maiden, and Crone do but whatever. Just know that everything sucks because apparently someone called the house phone and told Mom and Dad that there was a ghost in the school. The A-listers are blaming me for ruining their high school debut.

August 30, 2002

Mom and Dad have started making more noise in the lab than normal. It’s gotten to the point that Jazz has been spending more time at the library to study. Speaking of Jazz, she has been obsessing over self-help and psychology books lately. I mean. Jazz has always talked up therapy but now she’s kinda getting snooty about it. Sam suggested we start hanging out at that gazebo thingy at the park so we can get our work done on the nicer days. We’ll have to hang at Tucker's place though on the rainy days. Sam’s parents have decided that it’s time to put their foot down and get Sam to “socialize with your actual peers Sammy-kins so that you can make better connections and start networking” or whatever. So basically Sam’s mom doesn’t want her to be associated with us plebs I guess.

September 8, 2002

Mom and Dad repurposed the fridge so they could put samples in it. Apparently, the one in the lab broke. The green stuff in the tubes kinda creeps me out. Jazz is yelling at them about it. I kinda agree. Cross-contamination anyone? Think I’m gonna eat out at Nasty more often.

September 28, 2002

Either I’m going crazy or the leftover chicken and noodle soup in the fridge was moving. Like the noodles were wiggling around like worms or something. Jazz ordered pizza.

October 5, 2002

There are new wires in the house now and they glow? Mom said that they had some sort of breakthrough and are using the samples that they have to coat some of the tech in the house to “ecto-proof” it. Apparently, the ectoplasm doesn’t like electronics so they weren’t really able to mix it with tech too well. Some of Mom’s blueprints look like Star Wars blasters. Dad’s are less impressive.

October 29, 2002

Mom and Dad have locked me and Jazz in our rooms because of the “Ghost Menaces”. Me and Jazz have both taped warning signs on our windows so some brave trick-or-treaters don’t accidentally get hurt.

November 1, 2002

The signs worked but I saw Mom and Dad taking off in the GAV around midnight. Whatever. Me and Tucker did manage to reach a new level in DOOM last night so that was cool. And it’s World Vegan Day today so Sam is going to take us out to eat at a vegan place for dinner. I have no clue what Tucker’s going to eat. Well probably get it to-go so he can get something.

I found out where Mom and Dad went last night. The cops showed up and gave Mom and Dad a ticket for destroying a part of the park's water fixture. Someone had organised a haunted forest thing in the park and my parents went absolute ape.

November 2, 2002

Who told Mom and Dad about Dia de Los Muertos? Or that there was a little remembrance celebration/party thing going on today because of it? I’ve decided to make deviled eggs in protest of their chaos and have also bought candy skulls to eat.

November 18, 2002

Apparently, there is an Occult Day(?) and Sam insists we spend the day researching cults. Tucker has found a tech cult online that says there is “Techno Magic” and he is now trying to learn it. Sam has found a book of curses and has been giggling since she found it. Sam giggling is terrifying. I am concerned.

November 28, 2002

The turkey came to life and attacked us. Mom and Dad are blaming ghosts but me and Jazz agree that this is totally their fault for putting the stupid ecto in the fridge. At least the rest of the food was edible. I mean. It had a kinda glowing but I haven’t gotten sick yet. So yay?

November 29, 2002

So the food wasn’t good and I ended up getting sick this morning. fml Jazz is mad that I ate some of it. I am fully aware of what food safety is Jazz. But I was hungry and after the turkey, I was just tired and hangry. I had no clue you had ordered pizza so :p

December 5, 2002

On the 5th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me! Nothing because my family is insane. Mom and Dad are already starting their yearly Santa argument. Sam and Tuck are both out of town to visit family for the holidays, Jazz is avoiding the house because it’s “disruptive to my mental development” and I’m grounded for yelling at Dad when he burst into my room and accidentally made my little Rover fall off the shelf and brake.

December 9, 2002

Mom and Dad’s insanity is ramping up. They almost never leave the lab now and whenever I try to bring food down to them they either just mumble and keep working or start arguing again. The whole in the wall has a frame now too.

December 24, 2002

I made a mistake when I brought Mom and Dad their dinner today. In my defense, I was just tired of them yelling about Santa. So I asked why they had hazmat suits but me and Jazz didn’t if ecto was so dangerous. Because if it’s that dangerous then the fact we have ecto in the fridge means that we should all have suits. Jazz is furious with me cause now our parents are making us try on our new suits tomorrow. I am terrified of whatever monstrosity they create no matter how “fashionable” Dad claims they will be.

December 25, 2002

It’s worse than I thought. Mine’s white.

January 15, 2003

Gods, I hate this. I’ve been sick for the past week and Jazz says we’re almost out of soup. I keep going back and forth between being hungry and puking up whatever Jazz feeds me. Mom says that she has some tea that may help but when Dad brought it up it tasted funny. It did make me feel a little better but it just had a really weird taste. Dad said it’s just because I’m sick so everything tastes funny right now.

January 19, 2003

Is it weird that I want to lick the ecto in the fridge? I’m pretty sure it is but it still kinda looks lickable to me. Like how you know that D batteries are not edible but almost everyone has licked one at some point?

Jazz just gave me a lecture about putting things in my mouth that I shouldn’t… Again…

January 27, 2003

Jazz scared me this morning. I walked into the kitchen this morning and just saw glowing eyes. Like a cat’s eyes in the dark. Jazz thinks I’m hallucinating from lack of sleep because of the all-nighter I pulled with Tuck trying to pass the next level on DOOM but I swear that her eyes were glowing.

February 9, 2003

I’m starting to worry. I know they're obsessed with their dumb portal but they haven’t eaten in 2 days. Jazz is planning on going down there and persuading (yelling at them) them to eat if they don’t come up for dinner tonight.

February 12, 2003

Happy Birthday to me. I am now 14 years old. Mom and Dad forgot it was my birthday again. They ran into the kitchen this morning because they completed their portal. They even dragged me and Jazz down into the lab to see them turn it on before we went to school. It didn’t work and now Mom and Dad are going to take a drive around town to clear their heads. They probably won’t be back until dinner time. Sam and Tucker are coming over after school though so at least it will be quiet while they are over. And I think Jazz is going to make a cake if the box of mix I saw her trying to hide from me yesterday is any indication. 

[hotheadedhero]

In Unrequited Love - Part 2

AN: When I say that writing this part had me feral, I don't mean it lightly. This part ended up being over 2000 words, blimmin heck. It had me losing sleep, losing sanity, and my grasp on reality and going insane. All in good ways of course! It got angstier than I originally intended but, man, I'm a sucker for it. I think you guys are too ;)

Part 1 - Part 3

Warning: angst for reader's lacking self-preservation, silly dummy, but Donnie is also a dumb-dumb, so you're as bad as each other really.

Donatello x Reader

Every explanation you can come up with to try and disregard your feelings for the tallest of the turtle brothers has only been met with more anguish. First, you theorised it to be some kind of miscommunication with your emotions, that you had merely misread a deep level of friendship as a new crush. Then, you tried to reason with yourself that it was a rebound - a re-focussing of such feelings onto someone else who likes spending time with you. Neither holds enough weight to get out of this funk, however. You’re chain-bound. 

Then begged the question: what are you to do about it? Realistically, what can you do about it? Not once have you had the courage to even try and say something to Casey, so what makes you think this is any different? If anything, it’s worse. Not only because Donatello is so helplessly in love with April, but because you are so much more hopelessly in love with him. Even the way you used to feel about Jones wasn’t this overwhelming. 

You hate it. You hate it so damn much and, yet, you can’t stop yourself from spending most of your free time in that forsaken laboratory. There’s a saying that keeps coming to mind whenever you find yourself aiding him with inventions and experiments: fool me once, shame on you - fool me twice, shame on me. You certainly feel the fool and more so after a particular incident. A word used candidly but it felt like an incident at the time. The details are foggy but you believe it had something to do with the daughter of The Foot - Karai - and a new robotic toy of hers. Donnie had come in and saved the day, earning a kiss on the cheek from his crush by the end of it. To say that it stung is an understatement.

Nothing appeared to change after that day other than the joy your new infatuation must have been riding on since. You hadn’t even taken note of how it’s affected you. You don’t take notice of it at all. Yes, you still regularly visit the lab but less so to help out. As of late, it is you who is being helped. A habit which has become the norm where the purple-clad turtle finds himself patching you up. Almost every time you see him, there’s a new bump, bruise, or scratch that needs tending to and every time he does what he can to make it better.

Today is no different. If anything, it has to be the worst of your afflictions that he’s seen to date. The first few times were viewed in mild hilarity but he’s not finding these frequenting successions of being your first aider funny anymore. He currently has you sat in his desk chair, knelt down and worriedly looking over your ankle. The pigment of your skin is only slightly discoloured but it’s clear from the way you hobbled in a few moments ago that it can’t handle much weight right now. Carefully, he holds a cold compress against the affected area, earning a jolted hiss from your person. He winces himself and mutters a quiet apology. Some silence follows until he decides he needs to know exactly what you did to warrant such a bad injury. 

“What happened this time?” he asks as he continues to inspect the contusion, making sure nothing is broken beneath. 

“I just slipped whilst I was coming down the ladder,” you admit casually. “Think there’s been some rain recently, so it’s my own fault for not wearing grippier shoes.”

Your answer is marginally concerning for two reasons: it hasn’t rained for at least a few days now and he’s seen the way you work - how careful you are when you’re helping him with mechanics or measuring various chemicals. This isn’t like you. Retrospectively, he hasn’t known you long but he likes to think you’ve hung out enough for him to discern that you aren’t typically this clumsy. He’s even detected a drop in your mood. You don’t crack out as many jokes with him, nor have you spoken much about Casey. The band of his mask creases over his furrowing brows and he slowly looks up at you.

“Is everything okay?” he inquires carefully, mindful of the potentially sensitive question. “You seem… out of sorts lately. If it’s something to do with Casey-”

“It’s not Casey,” you interrupt, rather abruptly he notices. Sighing, you quickly attempt to correct yourself and slump into the seat. “I dunno. It might be. I think I’m just done with all the love stuff at this point.” 

You end on a bitter cadence, one that has Donatello sinking. His heart breaks knowing that yours has been taken away and trampled on by this mess. It well and truly hurts him to see you this way, to hear that you’re energy has been depleted because of this. Then, like a jab to the gut, it all comes to fruition. The ugly canvas decorated with the hard, cold facts paints this horrifying image before his mind: your physical pain is a manifestation of that from within. Whether it’s intentional or not, it’s still an alarming prospect. Swallowing past the nausea permeating and rising into his throat, he takes a moment to reflect on how best to help you. He doesn’t want to be the one to tell you that you should keep pursuing that ragged hockey puck-lover but he also doesn’t want to see you in such disarray. He can’t bear the thought that you might get hurt worse than this.

With a steadying breath, he takes your hands in his own and smiles up at you sympathetically. “Don’t say that. You never know. There’s still time for things to change in your favour.”

If only he knew how much that gaze of his torments you; how his hands make yours burn cold. You silently beg of him to not look at you with such warmhearted affection, that the very thing he believes to have ruptured your heart is not Casey but is him. Part of you wishes that you could get angry and blame this on him for being so sweet, funny, and an overall joy to be around but that wouldn’t be fair. The reality is that you can’t blame anyone, not even yourself. Feelings can’t be forced nor can they be changed. Your eyes drop to the two sets of hands that rest on your lap, knowing you can’t stand to stare into those puppy-dog maroons much longer. 

Unenthused, you hum, “Guess so. Seems like you’re a little more on the hopeful side after that kiss on the cheek, huh?”

He glances away with an awkward smile. Everyone may assume that his head must have exploded when that happened and it would have done were it not for a certain change of circumstance. April kissing his cheek was ironically what led to him realising he loves you. At first, he was entirely confused. Why didn’t he get that round of butterflies? The heart palpitations? There wasn’t even a wild glee that he would have expected with something that monumental happening. Maybe there wasn’t supposed to be. He would have to look into it, he thought, and test it to figure out what was going on. An experiment that didn’t even make it to the drawing board. 

No more than an hour later, Donnie’s tending to a burn on your arm after you spilt boiling coffee on yourself; the first domino to fall in this onset of injuries he would serve medical attention to. Seeing you hurt struck something fierce within him. He had this sudden urgency to protect you, care for you, and look after you. Then, followed a quick daydream of holding you in his arms, close to his body and safe from any and all extraneous variables that could threaten you. It flashed before his eyes with such volatile ammunition he almost stumbled over the dressing work he had been so carefully wrapping around your forearm. That’s when he realised and, boy, he couldn’t look you straight in the eye for the remainder of that day. 

Perhaps, in a way then, your words ring true. He likes to believe he’s more hopeful. He likes to think he stands a better chance with you with how often you hang out and how well you get along. That’s why he doesn’t want you to give up on love. Regardless of where your sights are set, if you’re done with love, that’s his chance gone completely. He wants to keep that hope alive in you as well. Even if it’s for someone else, he doesn’t want you to be devoid of that sensation. It can hurt but it’s still a beautiful experience in his eyes. 

Realising your smaller fingers are still overlapped in his, he blushes - a blush you assume to be the result of your conversation. He finally withdraws his grasp lest he risks you experiencing the backlash of his suddenly clammy palms. It’s about time that he secures your ankle in a bandage, anyway. 

Ignoring your question altogether, he laughs nervously and clears his throat. “Well, the good news is that nothing is broken. Most of the fall was taken by your ligaments, though, so you won’t be able to walk properly for a few days. My recommendation is you rest at home in the meantime.”

You toss your head back into the chair and groan out lethargically, “If only I could replace it with a robotic one, hm?” Along with your overly attached, love-sick heart. “Would make things easier.”

“As long as you know to come here for repairs. Robotic limbs need just as much care and attention as organic ones.”

Glancing away, your lips turn up at the sides bashfully. There’s a smile. A genuine smile. He’s been waiting all day - a few days - to see one of those. What a dork. You can only hope your ankle does a fast job of getting better. At least that means no school for a few days but it’s still a bother. Simultaneously, that means no visits to the lair until you’re healed up. The thought is upsetting but you can’t help thinking it might do you some good; a bit of distance to calm the erratic, painful ache of the suffering muscle that sits behind your ribcage. Distance and distraction. On the topic of distractions, a particular object of interest has caught your eye from across the room: a small, rectangular mound hidden beneath a thin layer of cloth.

“Hey, what’ve you got under this?” 

You don’t even wait for an answer, opting to propel yourself over to his desk with your good foot. The office chair glides along the floor and, before he can stop you, you’re already pulling the tarp from this mystery item. For someone who’s just injured their ankle, you’re annoyingly quick to feed curiosity’s temptation. Your snoopiness would reveal a narrow box, that which you open too, further revealing a slim sliver of chain with a charm sitting comfortably in the centre of it. Said charm is a purple turtle and you don’t have to think hard to figure out that this is a gift for a certain red-head. It’s magnificently crafted if not a little corny but you can commend his boldness.

“I’m sure April will like it,” you say sweetly enough that it masks the disdain bubbling in your throat. With a quiet sigh, you return the necklace to its resting place, fingertips brushing over the top of the box. “If she doesn’t, though, I… think it’s beautiful.”

Truthfully, that’s the only appraisal he’s looking for, especially seeing as he’s made it for you. He should take the opportunity whilst he’s riding on that high. You like it. He should just say that it’s for you. Get it out there and proclaim his feelings if not at least allude to them but the melancholy behind your eyes chokes him out of trying. It’s not the right time. Your heart is fragile - far too fragile to be here any longer, you’ve decided. 

“Thanks again for helping out,” you mumble, swallowing past a lump whilst you attempt to stand. “Better make a start on resting, huh?”

Quickly, he holds an arm out in case you need to grab onto it, face scrunched and brows raised from the middle. “H-Hey, wait! Can I at least walk you back home? That manhole cover is gonna be a struggle let alone the ladder to get to it.”

Cursing the kindness of this tall terrapin would be cruel but he just makes it so darn difficult to not fall more victim to your feelings. You would love nothing more than to take his offer. Wholehandedly, you would within a quarter of a second. There’s just one teeny tiny problem, however. 

“I appreciate the offer, Donnie, but it’s still daytime,” you remind him. 

In his overzealousness, he had missed that fact. A seemingly obvious detail that he wouldn’t typically forget were he not so worried about you. He is not letting you go back to the surface alone in your current condition - both the physical and mental. Wishing to be human isn’t a naturally occurring thought but it’s currently a prevalent desire. How is he meant to ensure a safe trip home if he can’t go topside? Just as begins formulating a plan, a certain dark-apparelled miscreant passes the lab. Donnie can’t believe he’s actually going to do this but it seems like the only option. 

“Casey.” He raises a hand dilatorily to catch the teenager’s attention. “Any chance you could escort (Y/n) home?”

Casey takes one look at your wrapped ankle and throws out two finger guns with a wink. “Jones is on the case.”

He understood the assignment quickly enough at least. Hooray for him. Donatello is prompt to smile when you cast him an estranged glance. You reckon he’s trying to wingman you, which is almost hilarious. If only he knew. Your “escort” temporarily donates you his hockey stick as a makeshift crutch and places a hand between your shoulder blades as extra leverage whilst walking you out. Donnie may have been lying to himself before. He doesn’t want you to be devoid of love but he doesn’t want your love to be directed elsewhere like he had initially tried to come to terms with. It should be him. He wants it so badly to be him. Pitifully, he watches you leave, hearing Casey remark something along the lines of “you’re in safe hands” before the two of you are out of earshot. Such friendly, flirtatious comments from your prior crush would have had you in a tizzy but, weirdly, you find comfort in them. It’s a short moment of silence for your incessant pining. 

Now, all there is to do is hope that your forced rest isn’t met with bedridden wallowing for the oncoming days.

I know the first kiss on the cheek moment doesn't really fit with how it goes in the show but that's the point of fanfiction, is it not? :P Hope you enjoyed! I'm gonna lie down now, holy jeebus

[reystenius-01]

April Fools

In which: R pulls a prank on Stina for April Fool’s. Let's just say Stina did not find it amusing.

-----------

You were in the doghouse, to put it lightly. 

April Fool’s was a big thing in your family. You’d always go all out on your pranks; your brother had pretended that he and his wife were getting divorced last year. The family group chat had never been more concerned. The woman was basically a saint, the entire family had immediately taken her side before your brother blurted out that it was just a prank, which then led to a bit of no contact for a while, but anyway… 

You had pretended to come down with a headache so you could leave the team gathering a little early the previous night, wanting to set up the prank you’d be pulling on your girlfriend, if all went according to plan. You nearly failed at the first hurdle though, Stina sweetly asking if you just wanted her to stay home with her and cuddle. You nearly gave in just then, a sucker for those blue-green eyes. It took everything in you to reassure her that you’d be okay on your own for the night.

Stina did walk you to the door of your shared apartment, giving you a sweet kiss before you headed inside. 

You carefully manoeuvred around the living room, making sure everything was set up just right for when she arrived home.

Just as you finished setting up the water balloon above the front doorway, you heard the sound of keys jingling outside. Your heart raced with anticipation as you quickly hid behind the couch, waiting for Stina to walk in.

The door creaked open, and you held your breath as Stina stepped inside, a tired smile on her face. "Hey, love, I'm home," she called out, kicking off her shoes and hanging up her coat. “I know you said you’d be okay on your own, but my head started hurting halfway back to Leah’s place, so I just turned around.”

You winced as Stina's voice interrupted your thoughts, her tired smile tugging at your heartstrings. “Hey, Stin,” you replied, trying to sound casual as you peeked out from your hiding spot.

Stina's eyes sparkled with affection as she spotted you behind the couch. “What are you up to back there?” she asked, a hint of curiosity in her voice.

You grinned mischievously, trying to keep your excitement in check. “Oh, just waiting for you,” you replied cryptically, hoping to maintain the element of surprise.

Stina raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “Waiting for me? What for?” she asked, her tone playful as she stepped closer to where you were hiding.

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of the water balloon releasing above the doorway, followed by a loud splash as it landed squarely on Stina, drenching her from head to toe.

Stina froze in disbelief, her eyes wide with shock as she stared at the water dripping down her face and clothes. “What the...?” she sputtered, her voice trailing off as she tried to process what had just happened. Her expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she processed the situation. “Are you kidding me right now?” she snapped, her voice laced with anger as she took in her soaked clothes and dripping hair.

You scrambled to find the right words, feeling a sinking sensation in the pit of your stomach. “I...I'm so sorry, Stin,” you stammered, your voice filled with regret. “It was supposed to be a prank.” You sheepishly shrugged. “April Fool’s?”

Stina let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her wet hair. “I can't believe you would do something like this, especially when I'm already not feeling well,” she muttered, her irritation evident as she shot you a glare.

You hung your head in shame, feeling like the worst partner in the world. “I know, and I'm really sorry,” you apologised, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn't mean to ruin your day even more.”

Stina sighed heavily, her anger starting to subside as she saw the genuine remorse in your eyes. “Just… just give me some space right now,” she said wearily, her tone softened slightly. “I need some time to cool off.”

You nodded, feeling like a complete idiot as you retreated to the other side of the room, giving Stina the space she needed. As you sat there in silence, you couldn't help but feel like you had completely ruined the day, and possibly your relationship with Stina too.

—-—-—-

As you lay on the couch, feeling utterly defeated by your failed prank and the rift it had caused between you and Stina, you couldn't help but feel a surge of determination to make things right. You racked your brain, compiling a whole plan in your head as you plotted your next move.

The next morning, you woke up early, determined to start the day off on the right foot. You tiptoed into the kitchen, careful not to wake Stina as you prepared her favourite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with fresh berries and a side of crispy bacon. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee also filled the air. 

After carefully plating the breakfast, you carried the tray into the bedroom, where Stina was still sleeping soundly. You set the tray down on the bedside table, then tiptoed over to the window, where you had set up a surprise for Stina. You had stayed up late the night before, painstakingly assembling a bouquet of Lego flowers for her to wake up to. Each flower was carefully crafted with vibrant colours and intricate details, a labour of love to show her how much you cared.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I made you breakfast,” you whispered, a hopeful smile on your face as you watched her stir.

Stina blinked sleepily, her eyes widening in surprise as she took in the tray of food and the Lego flowers beside the bed. “Wow, what's all this?” she asked, her voice filled with curiosity as she sat up.

You grinned, feeling a sense of relief wash over you at her reaction. “I wanted to make it up to you for yesterday,” you explained, your voice filled with sincerity. “I know I messed up, but I'm hoping this will help make things right.”

Stina's eyes softened, and she reached out to take your hand in hers. “You didn't have to do all this,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. “But I appreciate it. Thank you.”

You squeezed her hand, feeling a rush of gratitude for her forgiveness. “I love you, Stin,” you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “And I'm sorry for being such an idiot.”

Stina smiled, her heart melting at your words. “I love you too, you big goof,” she teased, pulling you into a warm embrace. “And don't worry—I forgive you. Even though you’re a bit of an idiot.”

You chuckled, the tension of the previous day finally melting away as Stina's teasing brought a smile to your face. “Well, at least I'm your idiot, right?” you replied playfully, leaning in to nuzzle her neck.

Stina giggled, her fingers trailing lightly along your back as she pressed a kiss to your cheek. “That you are,” she murmured, her voice filled with affection. “And I wouldn't have it any other way.”

You grinned, feeling a warmth spread through you at Stina's words. “Good, because I don't think I could handle being anyone else's idiot,” you admitted, capturing her lips in a sweet kiss as an idea popped into your mind. “I still promise to make it up to you, in every way possible,” you whispered, your voice tinged with a hint of mischief as you leaned in closer to her.

Stina melted into the kiss, her arms wrapping around you as she deepened the embrace. A mischievous glint danced in her eyes as she met your gaze, pulling back slightly. “Mmm, you know just how to make it up to me, älskling,” she whispered against your lips.

You felt a thrill shoot through you at Stina's suggestive tone, your heart racing with anticipation. “Oh, do I now?” you teased, trailing kisses along her jawline.

Stina let out a soft moan, her breath catching in her throat as she leaned into your touch. “Mhmm, you do,” she murmured, her voice husky with desire. “But let's finish breakfast first, hmm? We can save the rest of the making up for later.”

“Alright,” you replied, your voice low and husky as you traced a finger along her jawline. “But I promise… I’ll make sure you forget all about yesterday's mishap.”

Stina leaned in closer to you. “Well then,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “I can't wait to see what you have in mind, min kärlek.”

----------

tempted to write smut as well 😭😭 not just for stina but for other players too, asks are open! drop any requests you got!

[aka-indulgence]

So, Ramattra huh? :3c

Ok so um. He’s completely taken over my mind for the past month 😭 I’m in love with this man

Usually I’m a sucker for the villains who are evil mostly for the sake of being evil or aggressive monster types but he’s like… morally gray complex? My (personal opinion) least favorite thing about supposedly morally grey characters is when they’re basically just evil except they go “oh but my backstory,” >:/ But here you can see why, there’s a lot of injustices towards omnics in the overwatch universe and you can see why he’s fighting so hard to make a change, even through any means necessary.

I’ve only started playing recently and every time I play as him I just find every little thing he does attractive orz the way he moves is so determined and confident, the way his hand strains when he’s shooting his primary fire/raising his shield… his scarf makes him look so majestic when he runs… his hair, gives him this effect that makes him look elegant? I want to tie his hair back for him huhuguhghuh

And oh my god don’t get me started on his nemesis form I’m dead 💀 He turns into this huge beast of a robot with big arms?? And his voice gets an extra.. filter to it that makes him sound scarier and growlier? I used to not like how his original arms were still visible, but now it’s yet another thing why I love him uhghehgfg he looks so confident with his arms crossed while he’s pummeling his enemies into submission and his cable hair flowing in the wind liks swoosh… and things get ramped up when he’s doing his annihilation ultimate, he can just run into the enemy team and suck their life force(?) Also this is a meta reason but I think it’s hot when he ults and the team scatters away from him 😳

and ough HIS VOICE AUGH HIS VOICE!! He always sounds so controlled and collected, and when he’s in nemesis form it’s like his restrained rage gets unleashed, phew… ngl I’ve been rewatching “Ramattra Voice Line” videos so much jkdshfnejf I love all versions of his ult line, whether its “SUFFER, AS I HAVE!” or “Rip them to pieces,”, or even the april fools line bc I just think he’s silly and dramatic in that one 🥺

I also watch a lot of his interactions, because despite his (understandable) hatred for humans, he’s respectful and polite to a lot of the other overwatch heroes. I imagine it’d be easy to write him as someone who dislikes all humans, but he shows appreciation to humans he thinks are kind and helpful to omnics, even if they might not like him. Even to humans he isn’t a fan of his conversations are still polite and reserved, or at the very least, he’s passive aggressive- but he never gets into a “grr I hate all of you” thing that Reaper has (lol)

His conversation with Venture especially makes me soft… he sounds encouraging to a human who wants to go to the Shambali monastery.

And of course his interactions with Bastion and Zenyatta are soft and gentle because omnics and knowing Zenyatta from the monastery.

I just- what if I’m his favorite person? What if I’m his exception to his hatred for humans? What if he was contrasted by a soft human? What if he says “Only you,” to his human? What if the hands he used for violence were also used to gently hold a delicate human he loves? uhuguhguhuhgufdgdfhgjdfhgd

I’m being self indulgent here and I say I wanna kiss Null Sector’s leader !!!! I want him to press his forehead to mine!! I want him to dink his mouth on my cheek and I do the same on his cool faceplate! I want him to cradle me with his nemesis hands! I want to hold his face when his faceplate gets cracked and his handsome, intense eye is visible and looking at me like I’m his treasure! ARGHRGHRG

[lolathepeacocklord]

Aprils fools is DONE it’s OVER APRIL FOOLS SUCKERS IM NEVER GIVING UP MY #1 BULKHEADER THRONE RAAAAAGGHH‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥‼️‼️💥💥👊👊👊👊👊🔨🔨🔨🔨🔨 BULKHEAD LOVER FOR LIEFFFFFFFFF LIVE LAUGH LOVE GEEN💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💗💗💖💖🩷💚🩷💗💚💚💗💚🩷💚🩷💚🩷💚🩷💚🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶💚🫶💚💚💚💚💗🩷💕💞💞💞💕💖🎉🎉🎉🎉🎊🎊🎊🎉🎊🎉🎊🎊🎉🎉🎊RISE AND GRIND AND GET ARTISTING AND SPACE BRIDGING AND WRECKING AND LOBBING

[dailyashleighraichu]

Happy April Fools

I'm actually a huge sucker for Meowth! I love all of the cat Pokemon a lot, and I think Meowth, Persian, and Perrserker are all pretty cool Pokemon!

Say, do these Meowths look familiar to you guys...?