#Prosthetic Liners

[angelnumber27]

looks by annrsb on instagram

[revivisection]

she's 39 he's 4000+ and they're having a slumber party (they squat in the same apartment)

two images of similar themes but very different styles because??? i honestly don't know

[amputeegirls00]

♥️♥️

[cy-cyborg]

Tips for Writing and Drawing Amputees: Bandaged Stumps

When writing and drawing amputee characters, unless your character only just lost their limb, they don't need to wear a bandage over their stumps.

to be clear, eda's depiction in the show was fine, since she'd only just lost her arm and went (presumably) without any medical attention, but because the show didn't have much time to show her afterwards, I've noticed a tendency of the fandom to draw her wearing the bandage permanently, so that's why I'm picking on her for my example lol.

It's a bit of a trope at this point, and I think it comes from one of a few different places:

Amputees do wear bandages on their stumps, but usually only for the first 6-12 weeks post-amputation, sometimes longer if the amputation was a result of a burn. It's possible people saw this though and assumed it was permanent.

Most amputees wear a sock made of either cotton or silicone under their prosthetics to provide them with some extra padding. These socks, called liners, often stick out from the top of the prosthetic socket and could possibly be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

Some amputees will wear compression garments for a few months to a few years after their amputations which could also be mistaken for a bandage from a distance. These garments are designed to stop swelling and reduce phantom pain, but they aren't bandages.

Stumps get cold easier because their circulation typically isn't as good as the rest of the body, so some amputees will wear socks over them even if they aren't wearing a prosthetic to keep warm, which again could be mistaken for a bandage from a distance.

This one is funny, but in my experience unfortunately, it's the most common: people think the end of an amputee's stump is just a perpetual open wound that never heals. Meaning to avoid "gore" it needs to be covered. I've met fully grown adults who believed this until I showed up to work/uni without my prosthetics or socks on.

People are uncomfortable with seeing an uncovered stump and so put bandages over it to avoid confronting their biases.

Some combination of these points.

But yeah, unless your amputee has only just lost their limb in the last few weeks, they don't need a bandage.

The ironic thing too, is that for most amputees, bandaging a stump is nearly impossible. I've been in and out of hospital since I was 1 year old and only ever met 3 nurses and no doctors/surgeons who could successfully bandage my stump in a way that the bandage would even stay on. This is because stumps are usually tapered in shape (meaning they are wider at the top, closer to the body, and thinner at the bottom), so gravity will pull the bandage off 9 times out of 10.

On a final note: it's ok to show your amputee's stump, it's not gore, there's no blood, it just looks like a regular limb that just stops early. In fact, if you are writing/creating anything for kids or that is likely to be seen by kids, I encourage you to show your amputee's stumps at least once. I used to work on a disability awareness program for kids, and I lost count of the amount of times kids were terrified of me, because they all expected my leg to be bloody and gory. For a lot of kids, I was their first real-life exposure to an amputee, meaning they'd never even heard of people like me, or they had seen an amputee on TV, but because the show went out of its way to avoid showing the person's stump, they assumed it must have been because there was "something scary at the end" that they weren't supposed to see (kids are surprisingly perceptive, they will pick up on stuff like that without you realising). And scared kids aren't good at articulating why they're scared, and would often say really mean or hurtful things to me. I knew not to take it personally and learned how to handle those situations, but not everyone is used to dealing with kids. For a new amputee (or anyone who's less confident in their disability), the kinds of things those kids would say could be absolutely confidence destroying. I never blame the kids, it's not their fault, but the whole situation could have been avoided if they had seen people like us before they had the chance to hear the wrong info. Good representation like this can be the difference between a kid crying, making throw-up sounds and calling an amputee "disgusting monsters" (all things I've had kids do/say) and them just being like "oh ok, cool."

[kingofthewilderwest]

We need to start questioning the conflation of "maturity" with "increased stakes."

It's not to say higher stakes is always a bad choice. The first half of the How to Train Your Dragon book series has an endearingly whimsical, child-like feel. Hiccup's issues in the first half of book one are an obnoxious, cat-sized Toothless pooping in his helmet. The movie adaptation might have made the book and its counterpart distant cousins, but it was a thoughtful move to alter concepts to the appropriately theatrical: books and movies aren't the same medium. Hiccup riding alone on Toothless, exchanging fire blasts with a mountain-sized dragon, and losing his leg came off as well-done storytelling.

Hiccup staring at a prosthetic never happened in the book. He didn't lose his leg in his encounter with the Green Death. It was, as the creative powers behind the movie said, a result of the increased stakes. They didn't do this just to be more dramatic; they did it because it seemed that, based on how their narrative was going, this made sense. And this was a soft, quiet, shocking, breath-taking scene that instilled how good the movie handled its stakes. It gave us a reflective reaction to consequences that audiences might not have expected. This movie understood timing, pauses, quietness, narrative arc, poignance, reflection, emotion, love, and heart.

We know about the conflation of live action as "more mature" than animation. But a medium doesn't change maturity levels. We all know that's bogus, and many analyses have been given on that. Disney live actions add extraneous gunk, down to Gaston having a past relationship with war (so I've heard, from the people who actually watched the movie), and Disney giving us the sad scoop on why Belle's mom isn't around. Furthermore, lots of times, when I see the conversion of animation to live action, I notice creators feel a need to "raise the stakes" -- in line with the erroneous view of "giving maturity."

But "higher stakes" often means inserting action in place of mindful interaction. I feel today's Hollywood movies, in their treatment of "action," don't let movies pause and breathe anymore - ergo, they don't let us think. Isn't it more juvenile to actively avoid thought in favor of "hey look I made the building go boom"? There may be less "stakes" in introspection and mindful dialogue, but that's what gives it its maturity. That's how we went from Iron Man 1, with its grounded treatment of war and abuse, to the mindless high spectacle MCU is today.

Snappy one-liners or moments that clap at contemporary issues don't substitute for maturity. What can make a story mature is characters grappling with issues in a natural narrative through-line. A snappy one-liner is its own form of speedy spectacle.

We know about the conflation of "gore and sex" with "mature audiences." I believe they're right that graphic sex and gore is designed for adults. But that doesn't make it mature, and that doesn't make it the only way to target a medium for adults.

"Realisticness" isn't maturity. Per above regarding animation: realistic visuals are nothing. And if you think that putting more Debbie Downer material into your adaptation makes it more adult, you have to ask yourself why the themes that spoke to people's souls got muddled in its midst. We weren't mature enough to interact with the most subtle, nuanced, and impacting voice of the story. But hey! Look! There's more corpses, I guess!

It's not the visuals, it's not the events. It's not the "things." It's not the basic insertion of the external. Get past the superficial, get past the top layer of presentation. It's the mind. It's the ability to think. It's the ability to be still. It's the ability to be interested and attentive when something is slow or quotidian, because we can understand why that is important for narrative growth or arcs or themes or commentary on the human condition. It's the ability to know when and when not to include something. It's the ability to make resonant impact. It's the ability to be deep with your emotions or your themes. It's the ability to take what you have and grow it in a way by which we can derive something deeper.

Maturity is critical thought and well-conducted, appropriate responses to content of any kind.

As DeBlois tells Empire, the move to live-action brings a different emphasis to How To Train Your Dragon; a new heft, both physically and emotionally. “It’s so dialed-up in terms of stakes — having a fully credible, photo-real dragon stomping around trying to kill him,” the director says.

And maybe that DeBlois quote is taken out of context. Maybe there's more going on than that one sentence conveys. Maybe Empire is making their own erroneous assumptions. But "so dialed-up in terms of stakes," isn't, on its own, a good appeal. The animated movie already dialed things up - and knew when to include or not include something. A live-action that imitates the visuals of the animated movie exactly, as if no independent thought has been done to its unique adaptation, to the pros and cons of the medium, to what a independently-presented story needs and doesn't need... It has to make you wonder: how many conflations of "maturity" are going on?

How long are we going to keep making our own conflations?

[theamazingaxleyax]

OMFG MY BRAAIIIIIINNNNN!!!!

I have an idea. (This is incredibly garbled and probably incoherent, but I need to get this out now)

So basically, ROTTMNT separated AU right?

Splinter was only able to save Raph and Mikey from the lab explosion, but only narrowly. Some rubble cut him off from the twins, and baby Raph got a little banged up as well. After the whole wreckage, Draxum assumes that half of his creations are dead based on the small puddle of blood near a large pile of debris. Lou had taken the other two.

Splinter raises Raph and Mikey the same he does in canon EXCEPT when Raph is 16, he asks about the large scar on his arm. Splinter who has been dreading this question for years carefully explains the story. (At least... some of it). He's silently believed that the other two have been living in the hidden city all these years. They have his DNA, they won't die easily. Mikey almost instantly decides he wants to see the hidden city, so after some scrounging around and paying a visit to a certain goat yokai running a candy/mystic item shop who had a terrible password (wink? seriously?). He managed to get a gateway opener.

Fast forward a couple of years. The boys and April have been visiting the Hidden City for a while. They met a rabbit yokai named Yuichi Usagi a while back, and Mikey has been dragging him around ever since.

Now let's say something happens and Raph and Mikey encounter a problem that they can't razz-ma-tazz or punch their way out of. Usagi offers some advice. Two of the most well known characters in The Hidden city's underground network. One is a mercenary, and is well known for having a VERY strict moral compass when it comes to jobs (What that moral compass is exactly is anybodies guess.) and the other is a rarely seen arms dealer, well known for their incredible mystic technology. The two are known to be exceptional strategists, and could help solve this problem

This is where we meet Vio and Indie. (Placeholder names). Raph, Mikey, Usagi, an April enter a small sketchy looking building, COVERED in mystic flora. Weapons line each wall, and at the counter in the back, there are various jars of poisons and medicines. Then a yokai catches their attention.

A turtle yokai.

He's wearing a cross between a robe and a cloak, a mask covering the lower half of his face, but that does very little to hide the smug grin on his face. He throws a couple of flirtatious remarks at Usagi, before introducing himself a Indigo, or Indie to the three who don't know him. Raph and April are reasonably shook, and struggle to find the words they need, so Mikey introduces himself and his family before discussing the problem. Indie almost instantly starts acting buddy-buddy with him saying he "Likes his vibes" and asks a couple clarifying questions when a second yokai walks in.

He looks.... bad. Half of his torso has pretty nasty burn scars, and he has a prosthetic arm and eye. (No wonder he was rarely seen). He has a bit of an absent look on his face, and Indie quickly excuses himself, introducing the other as his brother, Violet, or Vio, and starts to nudge him back towards the curtain door he came through (the house section of the building). He explains that Vio had a bad run-in with a certain spider when they were younger and a very poor deal was made. Everything had been solved at this point, but it left Vio with lasting damage (mentally and physically) and today was a "Foggy Day"

So, fast forward a bit (again) and the random threat is dealt with by now, but Mikey still enjoys visiting the twins (even if they are sketchy af). Vio is pretty chatty when he's not "Foggy" and Indie knows some really good jokes and one liners. Eventually Mikey spills the beans about Draxum (this whole situation has taken place over the course of season one) and that reawakens some buried memories from the other two. One Vio mandated DNA test later, and Indie is practically squealing over his relation to not only the greatest martial arts movie star EVER, but also the Ex-Battle Nexus Champion!

Insert awkward reunion here, blah blah blah, I haven't got this far in my idea yet. Idek if I'll even continue this little thought experiment. (It started out as a simple 'Okay, Disaster Twins, but like.... Anti-Hero')

[theivorlegov1]

Prosthetics and liner pose

[torscrawls]

A Ghost by Any Other Name ch.3

You can read the whole story on AO3!

If you prefer tumblr: Chapter 1 can be found here. Chapter 2 can be found here.

---

Danny was big. Like seriously big, with a tall frame and wide shoulders, but Tim didn’t think he had been for very long. He still moved his body as if he wasn’t quite used to the size of it yet. Maybe Tim should have been intimidated, but he was too used to big enemies and siblings to really take notice. 

No, what he had taken notice of was the prosthesis making up the other's left arm. A prosthesis that Tim would bet his whole hidden stash of coffee in the Batcave was homemade, a fact that had spurred him to start talking with the guy when he had spotted him sitting alone at lunch.

A prosthesis that currently lay on the table between Tim and Danny where they sat in an otherwise empty room usually used for construction and prototype testing.

Tim hovered with his hands over the arm as he looked up at Danny and asked for the third time, “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded, straightening the liner covering his now exposed upper arm. “Yeah, man. I’ve been doing this solo ever since— well, since I got it. If you could help me work out some kinks that would be great!”

Tim let his hands fall to the prosthesis, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at it as he took in the patchwork of metal. He didn't have any trouble believing that no one else had worked on it as it was clearly cobbled together from whatever Danny had been able to find. The soldering was stable, but looked patchy from where it had been stretched thin to cover what it needed to.

It was an impressive piece of machinery to have been made by one person, even more so from what were clearly scrap-pieces, but if Tim was being honest the most impressive thing was that it moved at all.

Considering its weight, its many functions, and the length at which Danny could use it without charge, there was no known source that could possibly power it. 

Danny had given him some vague explanation of batteries, sustainable energy, self-sufficiency, and a whole lot of nonsensical buzzwords. Tim might not be an expert in prosthetics, but even he knew that it wasn't possible to have batteries big enough to sustain it for a whole day, and small enough to keep the arm as lightweight as it was.

“So,” Tim said as he placed the arm back on the table. “What do you need help with?”

Danny looked up from where he was fiddling with the fingers of the prosthesis. “I can’t get the thumb to move but I'm thinking of adding something to make the articulation of the fingers better, so if you have any ideas about that I would love to hear it.” He perked up, “Oh! I also need to make it lighter, I think, so that I can keep it on for the whole day. It’s starting to become too heavy for me.” Danny gave a strained laugh. “Not getting any younger, you know?”

Tim didn't buy the excuse of age, Danny wasn't old by any means and he certainly was big enough to be able to support the weight, but he had noted that Danny didn't use the arm every day. Which meant that there was another reason for it. 

“Is this related to your… Illness?” Tim asked carefully.

Danny didn’t answer. Which in itself was answer enough.

“Can I ask… What it is?”

He really didn’t want to pry, but maybe Danny didn’t seek out treatment because he lacked the money for it. If so, Tim found that he wanted to help. “If it’s a question of money, then I can—”

“It’s not,” Danny cut him off. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Alright.” Tim dropped the subject as he reached for a small, closed hatch at the underside of the arm. “What’s this part? The power source, right?”

He had just managed to get it open an inch, peeking inside to see something glowing green when Danny snapped the lid shut with a harsh, “Don't touch that.”

Tim held up his hand in a gesture of surrender. “Sorry.”

Danny kept his eyes narrowed and fixed on Tim a second longer, but then relaxed. “No, I'm sorry. I just—It feels personal, okay?”

“Hey, no worries. I get it,” Tim assured him, trying to curb his own curiosity by reminding himself to feel grateful that Danny had trusted him enough to let him work on the arm to begin with. “Thanks for letting me take a look at it.”

“I know it’s not much,” Danny said self-consciously.

It was, but Tim understood what he meant; understood the frustration of being restricted by material things. Tim would love to see what Danny could do with better materials, and there were some benefits to being the son of the richest guy in town. 

“I might have some materials lying around, if you're interested. And I might have an idea about that thumb.”

Danny's whole face lit up.

Tim realized that they were actually starting to become friends. Wish meant that there was only one thing he could do in this situation.

——

Tim scanned the results of the background check he had just completed on Danny.

He had come up clean. Almost too clean. But he also came from a small city in the middle of nowhere; maybe there hadn’t been that many opportunities to get into trouble in Amity Park.

Tim had found no signs that Danny was in any way out to get them, which was great since Tim really didn’t have the time and energy to fight some new villain pretending to be his work-friend and coffee-buddy. His heart wouldn’t be able to take it.

He did trust in Wayne Enterprise’s HR-department (and security department’s) ability to screen new employees but since he had started to run into Danny more often he wanted to investigate himself. But to his surprise, those accidental meetings seemed to just be actually accidental. So even if Tim had been burned one too many times, Danny was starting to look like an actually nice guy. No matter his big size, slightly uncanny looks, and cobbled together technology. The villains can’t get all the cool people, Tim thought smugly and found that he was more relieved than he wanted to admit that Danny had come up clean.

“A new friend?” Dick asked with a raised eyebrow and an infuriating smirk as he leaned over the back of Tim’s chair to get a better look at the screen.

“A colleague,” Tim corrected distractedly as he scanned the documents.

Danny almost seemed too perfect; a friend factory-made to suit Tim.

He liked coffee, he was witty, not afraid to tease him even though Tim was his boss, quick-witted, and had a big interest in technology and inventions. A fact that was proven in his work as well as his prosthetic arm.

In truth, Tim had already started to sneak Danny some projects under the table. Not bat-classed project, but… Maybe some personal things he had under development and would like a second pair of eyes on. And Danny’s insights had proven to be invaluable. Tim looked over his shoulder at the still-smirking Dick. Danny was also non-judgmental and non-infuriating, in contrast to certain other people that should not be named.

As if hearing his thoughts, Dick laughed and nudged his shoulder. “This is a thorough check for a colleague.”

Tim averted his eyes. Maybe it had been longer than he thought since he made a normal friend.

Dick smiled. “I’m glad it came up clean. You could really need some more friends.” 

Dick ignored Tim’s outraged “Hey!” as he scanned over the document before pausing with a frown. “Amity Park? Where's that?”

“No idea.” Tim clicked away on the computer. “Apparently a small town that mostly makes its living as a tourist trap. And their draw is…” Tim trailed off as he digested the last word before exclaiming, “Seriously?!”

Dick leaned in. “What?”

“Ghosts. The whole town claims to be haunted by ghosts.”

“Alright? That's eccentric, but it's not that strange.”

“No, it's just…” Tim dragged a hand through his hair. “It's the second time lately that ghosts have come up.”

And he really didn't want to associate Danny with the two lunatics from a couple of months ago.

“Well, maybe it’s a sign that you should change careers and become a ghost hunter! Can you imagine? A superhero ghosthunter!” Dick laughed and punched him in his shoulder.

Tim snorted and swatted at him. They were really lucky that ghosts weren't real.

——

Of course, after foolishly tempting fate, ghosts stayed not real for far shorter than Tim would have preferred. It wasn’t even a month later when his entire worldview reoriented itself (and really, he should be used to that by now) as that belief died and didn’t come back to life. Which seemed to be a rarity all of a sudden.

At first, they hadn't realized what they were; seemingly harmless and, most unsettlingly, impossible to catch. The blobby apparition had fazed through any and all containment devices they had tried to capture them in, and more often than not they hadn't even been able to touch them. None of their sensors worked, just spouting nonsense readings that fluctuated wildly.

The blobs were hard to handle but thankfully they weren't very destructive since they mostly caused confusion and some accidents brought on by gawking bystanders.They weren’t really attacking anyone—yet, the cynical part of Tim’s mind added—but they were causing enough of a panic to be a problem.

Thankfully, Gothamites generally knew to keep well away from new and unknown possible threats.

The real problem was that they had no idea what they were dealing with and no idea on how to make it go away, but overall Gotham’s green and glowing new decor didn’t really take president over all the daily attacks from both villains and normal criminals.

Tim had foolishly (once again, damn it Tim) believed that was it.

And then he got a message on his communicator masquerading as a cellphone summoning him to the cave for a new type of threat. Tim straightened up from where he had been sprawled over Danny's sagging armchair. “I'm sorry, I have to go. Something came up.”

“Oh?” Danny looked up, eyes immediately jumping from the video game on the TV to Tim. “You okay?”

Tim waved him off, feeling a bit guilty at the clear worry on his friend's face. “Yeah, yeah, nothing bad. Just… A family thing.”

Danny grimaced and Tim guessed he'd had his fair share of family things. He let go of the controller in his right hand, instead grabbing at his prosthetic left, rubbing at it as if in pain.

Tim got to his feet. “It was nice hanging out though. Same time next week?”

Danny's grimace immediately turned into a smile and even though it looked genuine, there was something strained at the corners. “Sure! Good luck with the family.”

There was real fear there, barely visible under the happiness. Tim reluctantly discarded the observation, reminding himself that his friend wasn't a mystery for him to solve. “Thanks. Good luck with the boss without me.”

Danny laughed and shucked a pillow at him. “As if your so-called skills make any difference.”

Tim ducked the soft projectile with a smile before leaving, mind already focusing on what new threat could have come up for him to be called in on one of his few nights off.

Said threat turned out to be an intangible, periodically invisible, glowing, and floating villain. All of those characteristics wouldn’t necessarily lead Tim to the conclusion that he was facing off against a ghost—Gotham was filled with a lot of weird people with even weirder powers—but what sealed the deal was the fact that this new villain just wouldn’t shut up about being one. The ghost of boxes, to be more specific.

Tim would say that he had higher hopes for his own afterlife, but who was he to judge?

And, sure, if that had been the end of it then maybe the easiest answer would have been that they were facing off against a man with very specific interests and an unfortunate chemical accident in his recent past (it had happened before, more than once) but now they were staring down a new villain every other week. All of them proudly proclaiming themselves to be ghosts, and all of them freaking every sensor and scan the Bats threw at them the fuck out.

So ghosts. Were apparently a thing.

Tim wished he was more surprised than he was.

So far, most ghost attacks would stop seemingly by themselves. The ghost in question would be mid-rant and mid-destruction, only for them to suddenly pause, eyes wide. Every time this happened, the ghost’s focus was directed at the group of innocent civilians unwisely trying to catch a glimpse of the action that always accumulated during attacks that weren't too destructive. Their leading theory was that the ghosts were simply scared of the living.

Which was lucky, because the ghosts were both frighteningly strong as well as too many for comfort. Tim was desperately looking for more dependable ways of combating them, but so far he had come up with nothing.

It was hard to fight an enemy you couldn't touch and they weren't used to feeling so powerless.

Which also meant that the small and round creatures that shared all the characteristics of the bigger ghosts, except for the fact that they were shaped more like jelly than people, were also—more than likely—ghosts. It had taken them a frankly embarrassing amount of time to reach that conclusion. Yes, Tim was well aware that Bruce was a world-known detective and that he himself was a genius. No, neither of them had mentioned this slow deduction to anyone.

All of this led up to Tim stumbling into work on a Wednesday, definitely late and definitely operating on way too little sleep. They had all stayed up late yesterday (or maybe it was today? It was hard to even think) facing off against a ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. Okay, facing off might have been an exaggeration. The truth of the matter was that they had ran. The risk of an unknown villain, someone with largely unknown powers and unknown motivations, getting into their tech had been enough of a threat to warrant a tactical retreat.

Which had proven to be a good choice since not even half an hour later there was an attack on their servers. And then another. And another. All of them seemingly from the same source. They had taken readings and scanned everything five times over, but the source of the attack seemed to adapt and change and move in a way that was almost… conscious.

Tim would swear off coffee forever if it turned out not to be the ghost that claimed to be able to control technology. They had been able to stay on top of the attacks but only barely, which was very worrying considering their top-of the line and frankly absurdly paranoid firewalls and assorted protections, as well as the fact that they had, well, Tim on their side.

He promised to never mock Bruce and his paranoid precautions again. At least for a week.

Thankfully they managed to contain the possible (probable) ghost in one of the computers stored in the basement by continuously upgrading and changing their fire walls. But this thing was learning and adapting faster than they could keep up with. It was only a matter of time before it broke out.

Too bad they had no idea who to reach out to. Or even where to start looking for a person who specialized in supernatural possession of computers. The science of ghost hunting didn’t exactly amass reputable scientists and inventors, or if it did, they were probably laying low so as to not get lumped in together with their more… eccentric colleagues. Understandably.

Which meant that trying to find a reputable expert on ghosts was as impossible as grabbing a hold of the ghosts themselves. But Tim knew that he would never be lucky enough for an expert to just stumble into his life, so they kept on searching.

So. No sleep. A whole work-day in front of him. If only he didn't have to keep up appearances. 

Tim tried to keep a brave face and go about his normal duties in his day job and nightly activities, but the threat hung heavy over his head. As well as the lack of sleep, but that didn’t feel as heroic.

Thankfully, his tiredness seemed to act as a homing beacon for his new friend and before he even sat down at his lunch table, Danny was there with two extra-large coffees.

Tim accepted one of them with teary eyes. “You’re a life-saver.”

Danny laughed. “At least I can keep you from joining me.”

And Danny did look tired. He always did.

He was holding his own coffee in his shaking right hand. Apparently the little tweaks and upgrades they had made on the arm hadn’t been enough to make it as reliable as he had wanted, if Danny chose not to use it. Instead it was hanging at his side, looking a little less cobbled together with a new top-plate and Tim felt happy knowing that Danny had taken him up on using the materials.

Tim had started to be able to anticipate what kind of day it was going to be just from how Danny held himself and today didn’t seem like a good one. He was still unsure of what exactly was wrong with his friend, but he was scared to ask again and risk offending him. Their relationship was still too new.

So Tim sipped his coffee and simply said, “I appreciate you keeping me alive.”

“We don’t need any more ghosts,” Danny muttered under his breath and took a sip from his own coffee.

The comment made Tim’s exhausted brain suddenly remember that Danny came from a town known for being haunted. It was a slim chance—since it probably was a cheap way of luring in tourists—but maybe Danny had some insights that could help them with the newly appeared ghosts. And especially the one trapped in the computer in the basement.

The only problem being that Danny had never revealed where he was from and Tim couldn't very well admit to doing a background check on him. That would probably ruin the mood since he was fairly certain that wasn't normal behavior between friends. Admittedly his perspective on what was normal or not was pretty skewed; something his siblings never hesitated to point out to him. Which was true, but they really didn't have a leg to stand on when it came to being normal. 

Tim made sure he sounded casual as he tapped the logo on his coffee cup and asked, “Hey, do they have Crabby Coffee where you’re from?”

Danny paused, something suspicious in his eyes. Then he smiled and asked in an almost casual tone of voice, “What, you don't believe I'm a local?”

Tim snorted. “You asked me if Arkham was an arcade just last week. Besides, you don’t have the right accent.”

“Fair,” Danny allowed with a shrug and a grin that was only slightly strained at the edges.

“So...?”

“I’m from Amity Park,” Danny said in a way that indicated that he didn’t like the fact, mumbling the last words as he looked away from Tim

Tim pretended to be surprised. “Amity? Never heard of it. Is it known for anything special?” And then he almost winced at his own clumsy and obvious fishing for information. Bruce would be so disappointed if he saw this. Okay, maybe he was more sleep-deprived than he thought.

It was lucky that Danny seemed distracted by some sort of inner conflict as he shuffled from foot to foot, not meeting Tim's gaze. “Well… It's a tourist thing…”

“Oh? Like what?” And now Tim was interested why Danny seemed so hesitant to share. Not a mystery, Tim reminded himself.

Danny deflated, looking defeated. “It's ghosts.” Then he switched to the overly-enthusiastic way of speaking inherent to all slogans, clearly mimicking some commercial, “Come on down to America's most haunted town! Guaranteed to scare the ghost right out of you!” and then in a fast paced mutter, “The city of Amity Park is not liable to retrieve any ghosts that decide to leave their bodies during your visit.”

Score.

“That's so cool!” Tim didn't even have to fake his interest as he asked, “Was it really? Haunted?”

“Depends on who you ask,” Danny hedged.

Tim gestured at Danny with his coffee cup. “I'm asking you.”

Danny paused with a worried frown on his face that he quickly tried to hide, looking at Tim intently as if he tried to work something out. Then he shook his head and simply said, “No.”

And it was the first time Tim had detected a lie from his new friend. Which meant that he did know something. Tim felt himself get excited at the prospect of a challenge, a mystery, and this time it was connected to their current problems which meant that it was fair game. He finally had a lead and he refused to let it go.

Why would Danny lie about his town being haunted? Was he scared of being made fun of? Didn’t he think that Tim would believe him? Ghosts was a rather eccentric thing for your town to be known for, maybe he had been ridiculed before.

Or maybe, a more jaded part of his brain supplied, he had been threatened to not say anything. Maybe he was hiding something.

Maybe Tim would have to show him some things related to ghosts and see how he reacted sooner rather than later.

“You sure?”

“Yes. It's not haunted.”

“Ah, so it's just a tourist trap, then? To make money?” Tim asked, trying to keep the excited interest out of his voice, trying to keep the conversation casual.

Danny wouldn’t meet his gaze. “Yeah, but it's nothing special. Just like any small town, you know?”

“Some people always take it a bit more seriously, right? There's always some believers,” Tim fished for more information. In every tourist attraction that claimed to be the home of Bigfoot or Mothman there was always someone who actually believed in what they were selling.

And if they believed, maybe they had some real information. Maybe even ways of combating them.

“Yeah, sure. There's those that believe and even—” Danny paused, swallowed, and then said, with real anger in his voice, “even some nut jobs that claim to study ghosts.”

Some people were studying ghosts? Tim made a mental note to look into them.

Danny cleared his throat as if embarrassed by his outburst and asked, “Do you believe in ghosts?”

Tim allowed the subject-change, not willing to push it and risk Danny suspecting him. “Haven’t you seen all the new villains on the news? They look kinda ghostly, don’t they?”

“Most newspapers write about them as if they’re a new kind of meta-humans.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Tim shrugged. “But I don’t think ghosts would be much stranger.”

“You’re not scared?” Danny asked, a puzzled expression on his face.

“Of course!” Tim laughed. “But I don’t see why they would be more dangerous just because they’re dead. If anything, that only shows that they’ve already been killed once!”

Danny smiled at that and Tim took it as a win. His new friend might not feel comfortable opening up about everything just yet, but at least he could show that he’s open to talking about it when he was.

[amputeegirls00]

[cokoweee]

This is a thing

Still can’t write action so this is a lil clunky

~

Kendra hummed as she stirred her mixture over the stove. Music in the background filtered through his ears, unheard. He watched her face pinch in concentration as she whisked the mixture constantly, keeping her hand above the knob to adjust the heat as needed.

His lips tipped up in a small smile. She looked beautiful in the lighting of the kitchen, cloaked in one of his shirts, hair tied in a simple braid.

He needed to learn how to do that. She always did his hair, but he never did hers. He’d need to work on his finger prosthetic first though. He silently added it to his mental list of things to fix up around the house as he watched her.

He tore his gaze from her back to stare at the bowl again. He’d assumed it was frosting, but she was cooking it over the stove so he really doesn't know anymore. But then again, if he asked she’d probably say something along the lines of, “It’s an Ermine buttercream!” and roll her eyes at him as if she expected him to know what that was. So he just watched.

She plopped the mixture from the stove into the mixer, setting it on the counter to cool. She reached up on her tiptoes to grab the vanilla. She unscrewed the top before frowning.

“Where do you keep the knives?” She asked over her shoulder.

“I don’t have any.” He responded easily. His eyes flicked to the drawer they had been in.

Mikey's prized collection of knives was currently with Draxum. Would he ever get those back? Surely at some point they would be returned right? He silently hoped she didn’t press any further as he focused quietly on keeping his posture loose.

She shrugged and grabbed a fork, stabbing it repeatedly into the cap liner to open it. She laughed in triumph as vanilla squirted from the top and added a small amount to her concoction.

His tail twitched slightly from his perch on the counter. He wanted to take a cupcake. But the last time he’d tried to take something before she was done, she’d slapped his hand away. So he sat and waited patiently on the counter, drumming his fingers in time with the music.

He didn’t mind of course. She was perfectly content and so was he. A low churr rumbled through his chest as he watched her. She stopped filling her piping bag suddenly, her shoulders rising as she turned to face him.

“What was that?” She asked, her face strained as she craned her head to listen.

“What was what?”

“It was- it,” She frowned, her eyebrows scrunching together as she recreated the low trilling noise. It was broken and really didn’t sound anything like the noise he had made, but was clearly an imitation of his churr.

“A churr?” He responded, his cheeks growing hot as she watched him. She knew that was him right? “Have you not heard me make that sound before?”

“No!”

“I’ve made that noise a lot around you.” He countered, twisting his hands together.

“Oh my go- Is that what that sound has been?” She laughed. “I thought it was just a weird sound your rusty old subway house made. No offense by the way.”

“None taken.” He shrugged.

She laughed again before whipping her phone out and typing something in. Her face twisted into an odd look before she went back to her cupcakes. He ignored the face entirely and pressed himself flat against the counter. He closed his eyes, focusing only on hearing her work. It was easy to pretend it was someone else.

He listened to her move, chest filling with an aching comfort. He had loved watching Mikey cook. It was different now. No bubbling brother in his kitchen.

It was nice though, to have her here. A new normal. He liked it like this. The familiarity of it all.

He flicked his tail lazily and made another low churr. She didn’t turn around this time, instead smiling to herself as she finished her piping.

She turned around slowly, a cake in her palm.

“Ta-da” she said with a flourish of her hand. “One cupcake for Othello.”

He shot up to snatch it from her hand. The frosting was purple, naturally, and piped delicately into a swirl. He stared for a moment longer, admiring the beauty of it all before stuffing the entire thing in his mouth and swallowing it whole.

“Did you even taste it?” She asked, her eyebrow raised, apparently unfazed that he hasn’t even chewed.

“Mhm” He managed over the frosting coating his throat. “Can I have another one?”

“You’re such a needy little turtle Othello.” She said rolling her eyes. But she turned around to get him another anyway.

She placed the cake in his hand and he grinned. It was nearly to his mouth when he reminded himself to slow down and took a small bite, like a normal person.

He continued to take small bites, savoring each part of the cupcake. The soft and springy chocolate cake, the rich Caramel filling, the light frosting.

He pressed all the air from his lungs, allowing a quiet squeak to fall from his lips before taking the last bite.

She was staring at him, that odd expression still on her face. He frowned. Did she not understand? He let a sliver of air into his lungs and churred again. His face immediately grew hot.

Of course she didn’t know what he was trying to say.

He was so used to April just knowing because she’d been around him for so long, that he’d just assumed because Kendra had spent so much time with him that she would understand as well. She probably didn’t even know he was making different noises, or that they meant different things.

His scrambled to come up with an explanation as she pulled her phone out and started typing furiously. What on earth was she typing?

Her face softened after a second and she walked over to the counter. He moved his leg so she could stand in front of him, his tail curling around her thigh.

“You are very welcome.” She said confidently, wiping frosting from his face.

He grinned and hoisted her onto the counter next to him. He’d tell her about all the little turtle quirks later. She made a small squeal, her legs flailing beneath her as he lifted her up. He grinned wider as she glared at him.

“Warn a girl before you do that, yeah?” She gritted out. But her voice held no real malice as she leaned her head against his shoulder.

He shrugged and pressed his shell against the countertop again. She stayed sitting, her hands flying across her phone screen trying something in. He watched contently, his tail still twittering occasionally against her thigh.

The music she had been playing suddenly shifted from retired theater kid to a much slower and gentle pace.

“Nat King Cole?” He mused.

She nodded silently, holding out her hand in offering. He sat up slowly and placed his palm in hers. She hopped off the counter and motioned with her other hand for him to follow.

He did, letting his tail unravel from her leg as she grabbed his hand to put around her waist for him.

She swayed in time with the music stepping carefully to avoid his tail. He moved with her, humming along to the song. She moved closer to him, pressing their bodies close together. He gripped her waist a little tighter and spun her in a tight circle. As the climax of the song began to crescendo he moved his hand up to the middle of her back and dipped her low to the ground.

His chest fluttered as he looked down at her, her chest heaving just barely. They’d been “officially together” as Cass would say, for a while now, but it just felt so real when he held her close. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve her.

No, that wasn’t quite it. He wasn’t sure why she wanted him.

The song ended and he pulled her back up. She rested her head against his chest, still swaying softly against him as the next song played. He held her for what felt like an eternity, rocking tenderly before moving to let her take the lead as the song faded away. She moved her hand to his waist and he to her shoulder.

She looped her finger through his belt hooks and practically dragged him to the living room. The song started and she stuck her leg out, forcing him to move his as well. She moved backwards and forward, taking him with her as she twirled around the room in tight circles. He was pliant against her touch, drifting wherever she took him.

The song reached its finale and she climbed up the couch ledge to spin him. He spun on his heels, a bit clumsy, unused to being the one led. He stopped in front of her, and without missing a beat, lifted her into the air.

He held her there for a second, letting her hang in the air, his forehead resting against hers before he lowered her slightly.

He spun her around as she wrapped her legs around his torso. She pressed her face into his shoulder as he held her there, still swaying back and forth with the music. She smelled like a bakery. Vanilla and Carmel, with a hint of lavender.

His chest fluttered again as he felt her smile against him. The song ended abruptly and he set her back down on the couch.

He waited for the next song to start when she jumped up, stepping closer to him. She moved before another song could play, looping her finger through his belt hook again and leading him to the couch. He followed mindlessly, letting her take him wherever she wanted. She plopped down on her side of the couch and he followed suite.

She moved as soon as he sat down, pressing her head against his side and grabbing his arm to wrap it around herself. She grabbed the remote and turned the tv on, flicking through a few shows before landing on one she wanted.

“This good?” She asked, leaning further against him.

“Yup.”

He didn’t care what they watched as long as he watched it with her. He ran his fingers through her hair, making sure to copy the motions she usually made when she did his own hair. She leaned her head further into his side and sighed, threading her fingers through his.

His eyes grew heavy as the episode began. He let them slip closed, a low chur escaping his chest again. He felt her laugh against him and huffed. She loosened her grip against his hand slightly to trace the stripes on his fingers with her thumb.

“Goodnight Othello.” She mumbled quietly, her gaze still focused on the screen.

He made another chur, letting it fall into a coo as his consciousness drifted, her fingers still intertwined in his.

~

I really like that couch huh?

Those cupcakes are real btw and they are the literally the best things ever. (I work in a bakery)

-writing anon

WRITING ANON STRIKES AGAIN

I got to read this before leaving for work🥸🥸🥸

A bigger couch gon be required heheegwydhe. I gotta try those cupcakes tho if ur sayin they’re so good. I’m a sucker for sweets

[sealofarchives]

Could you create a headcanon for ‘Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles’ about what kind of fathers Leo, Raph, Donnie, and Mikey would be? I find this idea fun. :3

Headcanon: Rise!Turtles being dads and sweetest husband to the reader (Separate) (Requested prompt)

A/N: I'm still uncomfortable with the idea of aging up the guys towards "mature content."

However, this idea was really cute. It only made sense for this prompt where the guys are aged up with some reference to their bad end!future selves. I went with around early 30's when the turtle of your choice and the reader are in a committed relationship and currently raising a kid at the moment.

So please have common sense and think before typing some snarky response with 'oh aged up content is bad lol' (Because I will put those ideas on the 'do not write list' if people get too weird about it...)

Raph

You know how he has the habit of that one baby voice with Mayhem. (and a bit of the hey buddy tone towards Mikey or Donnie)

- His kid is never gonna escape from it. (even by the time the kid is a grown up)

He definitely panicked for a bit when his kid (during the energetic toddler phase) enjoyed climbing over a big guy like him.

- So he had to ask Donnie to make a battle shell specifically as a soft cushion. So the spiky shell doesn't accidentally scratch the kid.

Part of him is worried anytime he has to scold his kid. And only when you're around is when he feels okay to do so.

- He definitely does the "Did you ask (Y/N) if you could have another cookie?" sort of question. (Sometimes willing to go along with what his kid wants or following (Y/N) if he got caught spoiling the kid)

You're getting at least one peck on the cheek by the end of the day.

- Or earlier in the day if he accidentally woke you up.

Compared to his younger self who slightly whined about chores, he grew to enjoy it when both of you worked on it together.

- Laundry being one example where you're usually folding clothing fresh from the dryer. And he stacks a pile back into the clean basket/hamper.

His eyesight in the right eye has gotten a bit worse. (not as bad as his bad end counterpart where he needs an eyepatch) But, you often act as his extra set of eyes and call out to any surprise attacks.

- Which earned the title of you two with a tag team couple and he still blushes thinking about it.

Leo

Every few hours before a night patrol, he always checks in to see what his kid is up to and often gives a hug before leaving.

Often gives bedtime stories through retellings of Lou Jitsu's movies or Jupiter Jim's comics.

- Even acting out of some of the scenes before a yawn decides its time to sleep.

Gave one of his spare bandana scarves to his kid.

- Had the biggest grin on his face when the kid realized "Oh hey! We're matching!!!"

Almost similar to the night patrol part, but if you can't make it because of work or some other boring life detour.

- Its a portal away for a light hang out sesh. For both of you to take a breather away from the grown up life.

Late night conversations are just a regular thing between the two of you.

- Especially when he couldn't sleep. By the time he almost dozes off to sleep in your arms, he still playfully teases you that your voice is soothing to him.

When light conversations about the bad end future was brought up during a casual match of video games, he was never used to the idea that he had a prosthetic arm.

- You instantly hugged his right arm, jokingly reassuring him.

"As long as you can crack a joke in the most serious moment. I'll still know that its you Leo."

"Even in a timeline where, me and the guys were raised by Draxum?"

You gave the red slider turtle a 'really?' pout before he hugged you into his lap.

"Nah I'm just kidding, but for real though. Draxum's former henchmen are still goofballs that know their way around the city. I'm pretty sure that Leo could get a couple of one liners and maybe from you as well."

Donnie

Almost went into a frenzy trying to child-proof the lair. (Especially the month before the kid's arrival changed the atmosphere) But eventually settled down.

- Realizing it would have stressed his kid out by any sudden new changes (and a bit of his family and your help explaining the reasoning as well)

Leo's showboating energy transferred to him but, in a way that, the softshell turtle is very grateful. That he has you as a spouse and both of you raising a kid along side his sentient inventions. And will try to bring it up in any conversation.

- The whole wallet photo gag of him showing family pictures. You love this silly turtle but, usually lightly pinch his face if its the wrong time for that.

He lights up whenever his kid goes to him for any sort of question.

- He slightly restrains himself to avoid going overboard with the answer. But, his kid is smart enough to know that and sometimes tells you that he's not being himself again.

Cannot force himself to sleep unless you're beside him. (or if you have to drag him to bed yourself)

- The few times where he woke up while you were still sleeping. He always gives you a light hug and a kiss on the forehead before getting out of bed.

He subtly took interest in one of your hobbies. (Either an ongoing or a new one) Just so he can step away from a tedious project that was going nowhere and not bother you with the boring details about it.

- Sometimes mentioning a fun fact to impress you.

You gave into his idea of letting your kid have a similar weapon like Casey Jr's.

- Only when they reached their 13th birthday and learning the basics of: constructing it and fixing parts along side their dad. How to use it defensively, offensively, and etc.

Mikey

Considering how his future self had some hair on his head, he kept it long so he can do a few matching embarrassing baby photos to his kid.

- Like giving the kid a tiny ponytail and etc. He definitely cried a bit while having his signature grin when the kid pulled too hard on his hair, laughing at one of his jokes. And you had to step in to help him.

He knows how to work around some of his kid's picky eating habits. Usually making sure his kid is having fun or decorating the plate in an artistic manner.

- However, there are times when the kid can hide the veggie or fruit out of plain sight. Or his kid asks his uncles for help when Mikey's focused on some other thing.

Absolutely does that peek-a-boo trick with hiding his face or whole body into his shell.

- He was nervous at first, if the trick might have scared his kid but, no the kid was giggling. Curiously crawling towards him in awe of it.

Will sometimes make meals ahead of time. (often being, if you returned from work, too exhausted to greet him)

- Either leaving a note on a plastic container in the fridge of: [(Y/N)'s breakfast: DO NOT EAT unless you want an surprise session with Dr Delicate Touch </3] (this also applies to lunch as well)

On very rare occasions, he will temporary wear a cloaking brooch. If you're at an area isn't very friendly towards mutants and/or yokai.

- The one time that happened, is when you forgot to bring your lunch at a job that barely lasted a week. (Stuff that was out of your control but, he was relieved that you got out of that place before your coworkers decided to physically fight back at the manager)

Spends at least one day in the week with you to do some light meditative exercises.

- On the really bad days, he doesn't mind letting you hold his hand as a stress ball or just have a quiet moment to relax while his brothers babysit your kid.

[yandere-kokeshi]

I appreciate the way you write disabled and chronic ill’d readers. It makes me and others feel seen :). If it’s not too much of an issue, can I ask how Yandere Nikolai and Price would react if their darling has a prosthetic leg because of an accident that happened in the military? Thanks <3

Also, can I be 🦿 (iron leg) anon?

— Yandere Nikolai and Price with a gn darling who has a prosthetic leg

Warnings: yandere behavior, and talks about ptsd and past.

A/N: Yes, you can! Hope you enjoy :)

Nikolai:

Nikolai is oddly fascinated with it. He adores touching the coldness bars, looking at it, especially if you’ve decorated it with stickers or have different fabrications. 

He understands that living with a fake leg is irritating. Wearing the prosthetic, and getting ready each day, can take a bit of time. Perhaps take your mental state down, however, your beloved husband can never get away from his odd questions with it. He genuinely loves touching it, and being in your routine; being there for you in whatever shape or form. 

When in need of a replacement, Nikolai comes along and patiently waits. He’s in the same room with the doctor, making jokes and looking at you with a gentle smile. After you’re done, he takes you out for a little treat. 

Really interested in knowing what happened, but will back-off if he senses you’re uncomfortable or don’t want to talk about it. He definitely sees that it can affect you, so no pushing from him. But if you open up about it, he listens openly. 

Nikolai often helps you with night routines — rubbing in moisturizer on your stump, and trying to make you comfortable. He adores when you let him carry you to bed, snuggling you closer and letting him do everything for you.

Captain “Price” John:

He undoubtedly respects you more, not that he already does. But with what happened in the military, and how much you continue on, John admires that and loves how strong you are. 

From learning from you and online articles, he understands the process of an amputee is irritating. The constant staring and uneven walk is embarrassing. Constant chafing is hurting. But John is there, helping you out with his best learning advice and wants to make you feel comfortable. 

John loves taking care of you. He takes your prosthetic off for you each time you come home, hands swiftly moving, removing the liner and kissing your skin before rubbing moisturization for the times you are without your fake leg.  

If you have a day when you don’t want to wear your prosthetic, he’s more than happy to carry you around. Prepping kisses on your face, beard scratching at your chin as he lays you on the couch to get you lunch.  

It’s shown on many occasions that he’s not bothered by it, so nor should you. If he sees you looking at it, a frown prominent, John gets a bit upset. He touches your chin, focusing your look on him and promises yourself that you are enough, despite your change of leg.

—

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