#because obviously there weren't enough of them

[thebreakfastgenie]

You ever think about how Democrats are always judged on their worst policy positions, sometimes (for example with Biden) from decades ago, while Trump and his ilk are given every benefit of the doubt? Yeah Biden voted for a draconian crime bill in the 90s but the fact that he pardoned an incredible amount of nonviolent drug offenders and nominated tons of black female judges, etc? Perhaps he has learned from his mistakes.

Yeah lol. Democrats are never allowed to grow or evolve. When it's even acknowledged it's immediately discounted as not enough or characterized a cynical attempt to score political points. When Democrats actually do something leftists have been advocating for they scoff "well, they only did it because we told them to!" Okay? Isn't that what you want? Nothing is ever good enough because they weren't born already agreeing with every single activism demand. It's weirdly Calvinist and kind of contrary to the entire purpose of activism when you think about it. I also remember seeing Hillary accused of flip-flopping because she changed her position on an issue once. Growth is actively punished.

Biden won the primary because of Black Democrats and when he chose Kamala Harris as his VP her base, which is mostly older Black women, gave him their energy in the general. He didn't forget that, because he's a lifelong politician and he knows you don't forget who got you there. You see that reflected in his appointments of Black women and his determination to put one on the Supreme Court, which he did.

Overall Biden did progress over the course of his long career, which is good! It's what you hope will happen! He was also more progressive on some issues than his "moderate white guy" image suggested, going back a ways. The big one of course is LGBT rights.

Republicans meanwhile... lmao. They get the benefit of doubts they don't even want. There is a deep societal neurosis about appearing "fair" at all costs, which means people are constantly looking for positive things they can say about Republicans and if they can't find them they just make them up. Some of the negativity toward Democrats comes from the place. Republicans are doing bad things, Democrats must be doing bad things too, and if they aren't we'll invent something.

Over the last few years it's metastasized into a bias toward Republicans. I think as Republicans have become so obviously and absurdly evil, and partisan Democrats and their liberal supporters have become more and more frantic in pointing out what Republicans are doing, it's pushed that false "balance" process into overdrive.

Weirdly I think being in a wealthy liberal bubble can exacerbate this, because the mindset is "well obviously we all know Republicans are bad, let's be contrarian by talking about Democrats being bad and Republicans being good!" It's sort of like tumblr producing "let men be masculine" takes. That's not the only place it comes from, though, some of these people just like Republicans even though they won't admit it.

[heavyhitterheaux]

“Fix your attitude or I’ll do it for you” Joe to wifey 🤪🥵

Joe was really trying to be patient, but all in all it was wearing thin since you had been difficult with him all day and he couldn't figure out why.

It started this morning when you woke up and he asked you what you wanted for breakfast because he had enough time to fix it before he left.

He had told you the day before that he was going to be gone the majority of the day and that's when your mood had turned sour. You get it, he had things to do that he was responsible for, but you kept thinking to yourself that there was no reason why it was the off season and you felt like you had to make an official appointment to be able to spend time with your husband.

But what you didn’t know was that Joe was actually getting things for the nursery and the twins' playroom and planned to stash it at Ja'Marr's house so that he could surprise you. He had been trying to carve out time to do it, but seeing as it was the middle of the season when you told him you were pregnant made it harder.

But because of his absence, he sent you to get your hair and nails done. He also flew Erin and Alisha to Cincinnati at the same time and he asked them to take you out for the rest of the day so that he could keep you occupied.

When he finally got back, he walked in the house and saw you sitting on the floor in the living room as your back was leaning on the couch flipping through channels on the TV.

Joe sat down next to you and leaned over to kiss your cheek as he started to play with your hair.

“Hey baby doll.”

“Hi.” You quietly replied, but Joe brushed it off and thought nothing else of it.

“Why are you on the floor? Is your back hurting again? I can get your pillow for you.”

“It's fine. Leaning on the back of the couch is helping.”

“Your hair looks pretty. I like the color.”

“Thanks.” You told him as you finally settled on watching Powerpuff Girls.

It was quiet for a few minutes before Joe grabbed your hand and caught your attention once more.

“Is something wrong?” Joe asked and you literally let out a huff.

“What makes you think that, Joseph?”

“Whoa. You saying my name makes me think that. First name basis? Seriously?”

“You have been gone ALL DAY.” You whined as you crossed your arms to look at him.

“I… so have you?” Joe replied with a confused expression on his face and you instantly rolled your eyes.

“So, do I have to schedule an appointment to spend time with my husband during his off season? Because OBVIOUSLY I DO.”

“First of all, fix your attitude or I’ll do it for you.” He told you and you let out another huff.

“I was doing something so that I could surprise you, but I didn’t expect for this to be your reaction. I literally flew in Erin and Alisha because I knew that this was going to take me all day because you haven't seen them in forever and I got met with an attitude from my wife when I came home.”

“I…” You started to say, but Joe cut you off.

“I'm not done. I was getting things ready for the twins’ nursery, playroom, and getting things for you too to help make the rest of this pregnancy as comfortable as possible. All you had to do was send me a text saying that you missed me and I would have come back. Simple as that.”

“You can never just let me be dramatic for one day!? I'm pregnant!”

“You being too dramatic is actually the problem whether you're pregnant or not and you know better. No, you don't have to schedule an appointment to see me but you might need to start if this attitude doesn't go away. But I get it that you missed me and were frustrated. Now are we done?”

“Yes! Now can you fix my attitude for me? I think I still have it.” You asked as you smiled at him and batted your eyelashes and all he did was shake his head at you as he came to a realization.

“I… you did this because you wanted me to dick you down, didn't you? You weren't even mad to begin with.” He asked while pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Ding ding ding! We have a winner! I got to see my best friends, get my hair and nails done, and chill all day. I LOVE when you get all mad at me. Your voice gets deeper and whew. I want you to put me through the mattress.” You told him as you kissed him multiple times and moved yourself to sit on his lap.

“What am I going to do with you?” Joe asked before he busted out laughing.

“Nothing because you love me. Now take your clothes off.”

[mischievousspooks]

Some Dreams Aren't Just Dreams

Greetings and salutations, my fellow tumblrites! After taking a month off to recover from the holidays (and do a LOT of proofreading) I have returned with NEW CONTENT! Last year was all about the visual art; this year written work is where it's at. I present to you, rottmnt fans, while chewing off my fingernails, the first fanfiction I've ever written! Or at least, the first chapter of it (there are MANY more chapters to come).

This story picks up near the end of the rottmnt movie. The brothers, having successfully rescued Leonardo from the Krang Prison Dimension, find that their work isn't over yet. Yes, they saved the world. They changed the future. They even got Leo back to New York. But even Heroes can get hurt, and having won doesn't mean you didn't lose.

This mostly falls into the genres of hurt/comfort and medical drama, at least for now. This chapter isn't shy with depictions of battle injuries, blood/gore, pain, and potential loss of a sibling. It also includes Draxum trying to be a good dad, Casey being extremely competent in emergencies, and Donnie struggling against a panic attack that's causing him to become nonverbal. In future chapters we follow various characters as they deal with the aftermath of the Krang invasion.

So, if medical drama interspersed with many sweet family moments sounds up your alley, then I invite you to

Part 1 - in which the heroes return home

The portal slammed shut. Mikey turned his full attention to the brother they'd just rescued. After really believing him gone, their relief at his voice overpowered everything else that had happened that day. Mikey and Raph must have been having the exact same thought, as Raph scooped them all up into a group hug. Even Donnie didn't hesitate. The hug was cut short, though, as the brothers felt a weirdly crunchy squish from Leo a split second before he let out a wail of pain. Mikey froze but Donnie extracted himself from the hug and jumped immediately back into emergency mode. Putting his goggles on to scan his brother, the only words that presented themselves were "Oh no… guys, this isn't good. We need to get home, now." 

Raph responded, "Home? Shouldn't we get him to, you know, a hospital or something?" 

“No, I’m…” Leo tried to move, but that crunchy squishy sound came again, followed by another scream. He curled into a ball on the concrete between Raph’s knees. His left leg didn’t follow the rest of his body, dragging awkwardly as he rolled. Mikey unfroze, wiggling out from under Raph’s arm and taking a few shocked steps back. His eyes were screwed shut as though he didn’t want to see any more, as though he couldn’t stand seeing any more. 

Raph, panic barely contained in his voice, scolded his brother. “Leo, don’t move, you’ll make things worse. And DO NOT try to tell us you’re fine.” Leo moaned, his body shuddering. Raph could see red fluid starting to pool under him. Panic now even less contained, he bellowed “Donnie!!” pleading for help. 

"We can't go to a human hospital with… this whole situation… and a Yokai hospital wouldn't know what to do. My research has shown that Mutants and Yokai aren't as similar on the interior as our exteriors would have you believe. Unfortunately, the truth is that we, and by that I mean I,  am the most qualified." He couldn't keep the horror and disgust off his face, there was so much damage… his internal monologue picked up where his spoken words cut off. *Oh no, I’m the most qualified… we are absolutely screwed, I have no idea what to do. Oh no, oh no, oh no…* He could see the back of Leo’s shell now; it scarcely resembled the shell it had been only minutes ago. Now it looked like a hardboiled egg that someone had been about to peel, crushed and mangled. *You’re supposed to apply pressure to stop bleeding, but how do we apply pressure to his whole shell, let alone without making things worse? Oh no, oh no, oh no…* The blood puddle was growing, too fast for Donnie’s liking. *Maybe Barry will be able to help? He made us, maybe he knows enough to fix this… But where is he? Did he survive today? Oh no… oh no, oh no, oh no…* Leo was struggling to breathe, his chest expanding only the smallest amount before the pain of it had him gasping. *Focus, Donatello, think. What to do?* 

Mikey caught up then, looking at Donnie, "But how do we get there? Do you think April can come get us?"  

*Thank goodness, a question I can answer.* Pulling up traffic information on his wristband holoscreen, Donnie scanned it. Hopelessly he reported, "No, the traffic jam of people trying to evacuate hasn't cleared yet, she'd never be able to get here on time. And my jet pack can't carry us all that far. Raph, any ideas?" The panic thoughts were growing louder. *Oh no, oh no, oh no…* 

After a few agonizingly long seconds of thought, Raph looked down at Leo, curled into half a ball on the ground. He didn't look completely conscious. Raph could only see half of his face, but it wasn’t pretty. There was a gash on his scalp that was bleeding profusely, his cheek had a big dent in it just under his eye, bruising staining it black, there was a similar bruise around his jaw line, and a trickle of blood oozing through his lips. His eyes were closed, but it wasn’t gentle; it was a determined grimace. He was probably putting all of his attention into trying to breathe without screaming again. The last thing anyone wanted was to ask the injured brother to do something except focus on not dying, especially as the bloody puddle under him kept spreading, but lacking other options, Raph had to try. "Leo, buddy, you with me?" A groan, which sounded like it hurt, acknowledged the question. "Leo, we need to get home, as fast as possible. I know you're hurtin' bad right now, but can you manage one more portal? At least enough to get us back to the mainland?" 

Both of Leo’s fists clenched, as did the toes on his left foot, as he inhaled enough to speak. He didn’t scream, but he did moan. His words came out mushy, interrupted by pained panting. "Errrrmmm, yeh, anything to get off… uuuug… Staten Island… oh, um… aaah… anyone… seen my… eugh… swords?" 

Raph looked to Donnie again. He shook his head as he answered. “No, Leo, you didn’t have them when you came through Mikey’s portal.”

Donnie jumped onto the next course of action. “I’ll call dad. We should let him know what’s going on, and maybe he’ll know how to get us home.” Raph nodded. 

Donnie heard Leo mutter something about “thrown out before Casey pulled the key,” as he took a step away. Raph’s fear stink was potent, but the smell of blood and burnt flesh had crept into Donnie’s nose too, and it was making him queasy. As he lifted his arm to remove his goggles and access his gauntlet, he realized he’d started scratching. *I’ll deal with those consequences later.* Pulling up his holoscreen, he found an error message and realized that the system had crashed, triggering a fresh wave of *Oh no, oh no, oh no!* He was surprised that he hadn’t noticed or wondered why no one on the other end had been talking to them. *Must have been too preoccupied with… this whole situation. Mikey’s portal’s energy surge must have triggered the automatic reboot. Doesn’t seem to be permanently damaged, though. Well designed, Donatello, well designed indeed.* He tried to quiet the panic with reassurances. With one swipe he archived the error message to read later. With another swipe he pulled up the comms system. There was a second of static as it reconnected to April, Splinter, Casey, Raph, and Leo. Mikey’s just gave further error messages. *I’ll deal with that later, too.* 

“Dad, April, come in, do you read me? Dad, April, do you read?” 

The speaker on Donnie’s wrist crackled with his dad’s lifeless voice. “Donatel-”

“DAD! Dad, we need to get home RIGHT NOW. Leo lost his swords and I have no idea how to find them, so we can’t make a portal home, but we need to get him back to the MedBay AS SOON AS POSSIBLE or he’ll bleed out. There’s a miles-deep traffic jam so we can’t drive, even if we could steal a ca-”

“Donatello,” Splinter interrupted, a little more force to his voice now, easier to hear over the background noise. “Slow down. Start over, I don’t understand. Who is bleeding? What is happening?” 

Donnie took a breath, trying to organize his thoughts through the chatter, and started again. “We got Leo back. He’s alive.” There was a collective gasp from the speaker. “But he’s hurt, badly. He might…” Donnie couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence as emotion threatened to take away his voice entirely. “We need to get home. Can you help?” 

“What is your location?” This time it was Casey’s voice issuing from the speaker. His microphone started picking up the sound of wind; he must have started running. 

Donatello responded, “We’re on the north shore of Staten Island, west of the September 11th Memorial.”

“Master Splinter, have you and Commander O’Neil changed location?”

“No. April is still engaged with the Krang where you left us.” 

Donnie’s fear spiked and his stomach turned. “There’s one left on the planet?!” 

Casey sounded equally horrified as he asked, “It’s still alive?” 

“It won’t be for long.” Splinter's voice was ominous, and perhaps a little fearful as well. That made the background noise make sense, at least… April was whooping victoriously, continuing to beat up the Krang. It sounded like she’d been expressing her grief through anger and violence… and was now celebrating with the same. There was no sound of protest from the Krang. 

Donnie and Casey spoke in unison, “Remind me not to get on her bad side.” 

“Yeah…” Splinter trailed off.

After a brief shared shudder, Casey went on, “Master Splinter, I’ll be at your location in less than three minutes. I have one of Master Leonardo’s swords. Do you know how to use it? I never quite got the hang of it…”

“Yes, I can make a portal.”

“Hurry, Casey!” Donnie added, somewhat frantic, “Three minutes might be more than we have.”  

“Yes, sir!” Casey’s voice issued from the speaker, the wind behind him picking up. 

Donnie left the comm line open as he rejoined the group. He filled them in quickly, “Casey found one of Leo’s katanas. He’s bringing it to Dad, who will use it to come fetch us and take us home.” 

No one responded. They all just stared at their brother for a moment, listening to the radio chatter from Donnie’s arm. Splinter was quiet, but April was still shouting and laughing as her bat made repeated contact with something squelchy sounding. Casey’s mic had auto-muted when he stopped talking. Mikey was clinging onto Raph’s right arm, looking down at Leo, clearly afraid to touch him. Leo was motionless aside from very quick, shallow breaths. The only indicator that he was still conscious was the crease between his eyebrows, which kept shivering and shuddering, and the tears steadily flowing from his face onto the concrete. They turned pink as they mixed with the blood flowing from several cuts and gashes. Donnie’s worry wasn’t lessened, but at least it wasn’t worsened, by his assessment of Leo’s continuing blood loss. The puddle hadn’t grown too much. The sight of it made his nausea worse, though. *Hang in there, Nardo. Gosh I wish we could apply pressure and slow the bleeding, but how? Everything is so broken, I’m afraid to touch any of it.* 

“Raph,” Donnie struggled for words for a second, resisting the urge to dry heave, “can you… can you pick him up? We should be applying pressure to slow the bleeding, but since it’s his whole shell… I don’t know, maybe your hand is big enough to do something? Even if not, we’ll need to move him, and it would be best if you could carry him.”

Raph, looking terrified at the thought, made eye contact with Donnie for a moment before acquiescing. “I’ll try, D. Leo? Leo, buddy, I’m gonna have to move you a little. Let me know if I’m doing something wrong, okay?” 

Leo grunted, making fists again and bracing for the pain. Mikey ran to hide behind Donnie instead. Raph moved slowly and deliberately, shifting his weight to go from full kneeling to having one foot flat on the ground. That would make standing up smoother once he had a hold of his bleeding brother. “Alright, Leo, I’m gonna touch your shell now, okay?” Leo nodded. Raph carefully lined up his arm against Leo’s back, grabbing his limp top leg to bring it into alignment for best scoopabillity. 

“AAAAAAAH!!!” Leo’s sudden scream made everyone jump, including Raph, who flinched away and let go of the leg, making Leo scream a second time. “AAAAAH!” 

The sudden sound hit Donnie like a bus, leaving him reeling. His ears rang. His thoughts were a cacophony. *Oh no, oh no, oh no… that made it worse! Why did I suggest picking him up? Isn’t there a better way? Oh no, oh no… what if we can’t get him home? No, no, no, no… there has to be something… something I can do… I can’t take him screaming like that again. Oh no, no, no…* 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t even touch your shell yet! What happened?” Raph looked mortified.

“Aaah… no, Raph, it’s… rrraaa… it’s my leg… I can’t… rrrr… I can’t move it. You’ll have to… aaah! You’ll need… grrraaaah…” 

“Hey, Leo, it’s okay, it’s okay. Do you want me to try again?” Raph said. 

*No, we can’t try again, not if it hurts that much, there must be something else we can do, oh no, no…* 

“You’ll have to. Rrrr… just don’t stop this time. I don’t think I… nnnyeh…  can be quiet… so you just… gotta do it anyway.” Each word out of Leo’s mouth sounded like it cost him something, interspersed with pained gasps and moans. 

*No, we can’t, don’t do it, don’t make him scream again, it’s too much, don’t…* Donnie’s thoughts kept spiraling but he couldn’t turn them into spoken words. 

“Are you sure, Leo?” Raph asked. 

“YES.” Leo nearly shouted. Raph got back down onto one knee, aligned his arm again, and this time he used his other hand to support the immobile leg while he rolled Leo onto his arm and stood up. The extra support didn’t help and Leo let out another gut-wrenching wail of agony, blood splattering against the pavement. 

*No, no, no, no…* 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Are you alright?” Raph asked Leo. 

“Eeeeh…” His scream trailed off into heavy, pained breathing. One of his hands reached up to pat Raph’s chest, then just rested there. “Yeh.” 

Raph brought his comm to his face, “Casey, how much longer?”

Casey’s out-of-breath voice answered, “Less than a minute.” 

Raph’s voice diverted Donnie’s attention despite the internal cacophony. “Mikey, your hands… was that from the portal?” Pulling his eyes away from the horrific sight of Leo’s distressed and disfigured face, Donnie felt a fresh wave of nausea roll through him as he finally looked over his youngest brother, noticing for the first time that there was a network of cracks and fissures covering his arms. A steady trickle of blood was seeping through the cracks, dripping quietly from his fingertips, and it seemed like there was still a faint gold glow beneath the crimson streams. 

Mikey looked down at his wounded arms, then closed his eyes again and crossed them in front of his chest. "Yeah. I think you've got it, too, and probably Donnie." A quick look at his own right arm told Donnie that yes, indeed, he seemed to have some burn damage, but it wasn’t as bad as Mikey’s. He wanted to check Raph, but the arm he’d held onto Mikey with was now supporting Leo and coated in too much blood to make out anything. He couldn’t even tell if any of that blood belonged to Raph. *It’s so much blood, too much… oh no, oh no…* Mikey’s fear was evident as he started talking again. "It'll be okay. It has to be. There's nothing we can't do when we work together, right Raph?" Mikey was clearly doing his best not to cry. 

Before Raph could say anything to comfort him, however, a blue light shone behind them and out stumbled Casey, immediately being leap-frogged by April. Mikey was the most available of her brothers so she tackled him first, knocking them both to the ground, doing a full somersault hug, then landing on her feet and launching herself toward Raph. The sight of Leo in his arms brought her up short though. Splinter came through the portal last, somehow holding both swords, and closed it. With one fluid swipe through the air he opened a new one. Donnie wondered idly how he got the second sword, but didn’t have time to worry about it. Finally, they could get Leo to some decent medical equipment! 

Splinter caught sight of the amount of blood on the concrete. A look of shock crossed his face, his eye darting immediately to the bleeding boy in Raph’s arm, and he issued one command. "Quickly, my sons." 

Donnie led the charge without hesitation, trying to drown out the worry by prioritizing the tasks ahead. *IV, gauze, sutures, what else? What can I delegate? Eugh boy, keep it together Donatello.* Gravity shifted for just a moment as he passed through the swirling halo of blue light, then righted as his foot made contact with the smooth concrete of the lower landing, just outside their MedBay. He had only taken half a step toward the door when he heard a yell from up the stairs. 

“WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?! I’VE CALLED YOU EIGHTEEN TIMES!!!” Barry’s hooves were stomping down the stairs as he hollered, but came to a screeching halt as Raph and Leo emerged from the portal. Donnie saw his eye twitch as he struggled to process the view before him. 

*I don’t have time to explain.* 

Donnie could tell he was on the verge of a meltdown, starting to go nonverbal, so there was a slight relief when the next words actually made it out of his mouth rather than staying locked in his brain. “Raph, put Leo in the hospital bed on the left; it’s the better one. Lay him on his side.” April and Casey tumbled through the portal as he spoke. “Casey,” the boy stood to attention when addressed, ready to go, “Do you have experience with these kinds of injuries?” 

“Yes, sir, I do.” He looked a little sheepish as he added, “A… a lot of it.” 

Donnie didn’t want to dwell on the connotations behind that statement, choosing to be grateful for his presence and nothing more. “Good. We’ll need your expertise. I’m a bit out of my field with this, the medical stuff is usually Leo’s specia-” The sound of another scream issuing from the MedBay cut off the rest of his sentence. *Oh no, oh no… what went wrong?* Mikey had just come through the portal, and was looking to Donnie for instructions. What had he been saying? *Oh no, oh no, oh no…* the chatter in his skull was getting louder, he couldn’t stop the panic rising in him, completely filling his brain, his lungs... he couldn’t breathe… couldn’t speak. *Help, please, I have to help him… oh no, oh no, it’s too much, too much…* 

Splinter was the last one through. He ran straight toward Leo without even looking at the rest of them. The portal fizzled out when he dropped the swords. 

*RRRAAAAGH NO, I can’t lose it now! Keep it together, Donatello, keep it together. Just a few more minutes. Your brother needs you.* Pounding his fists into his head a few times and giving it a good thorough shake, Donnie rallied his thoughts, pushing down the feelings and the vomit that were rising in his stomach, forced himself to inhale, and did his best to finish his part of the task at hand. 

“Casey, medical supplies are in the cabinets to the left. Barry, Leo is very badly injured and in need of immediate medical attention. As the person who created us, and a formidable scientist to boot, I hope you have some expertise to lend.” Casey and Barry made eye contact, nodded, and ran into the MedBay. *Good. Next,* 

“Mikey,” Donnie looked at his youngest brother, which proved to be a mistake. The sight of the burns on Mikey’s arms, more visible now that they were in a well-lit space, had Donnie curling in on himself as he tried to restrain his urge to throw up. He looked away quickly. “April, are you hurt?” 

"I might have a few bruises from getting thrown off the shellhog earlier, but I'm good enough to help. Where do you need me?" 

"Take Mikey upstairs and clean the ~burp~ burns. Once cleaned, get them ~eugh~ covered. Hopefully that'll ~gag~… slow the bleeding *oh galileo*… and we can deal with them better after Leo is *oh, keep it down*… umm… stable. I’ll send ~oof~ Raph next." 

"Roger that, boss man. Mikey, come with me." She dragged him up the stairs. 

Donnie took a few deep breaths again, trying to settle his stomach before joining the crowd around Leo’s bed. He was marginally successful. Looking into the room, he could see that Leo was on his side, as instructed, with Raph’s massive arm supporting his shell. His other arm was holding Leo’s left leg. Barry had his face uncomfortably close to Leo, poking and prodding, probably trying to ascertain the nature of the boy’s injuries. Splinter was standing a little ways away, looking despondent and disoriented. Casey was opening all of the doors on all of the cabinets, taking stock of their supplies. 

Leo’s voice, weak and rough, carried past the group, "No offense, pops, but you look like a drowned rat." Of course he was making jokes. 

Draxum replied off-handedly, "To look like a drowned rat he would need to be considerably more wet, as well as no longer breathing." Leo's chuckle was cut off, a groan escaping through his gritted teeth. 

Donnie sprinted across the room without a thought. "Leo, don’t…” his voice stopped working as he got closer than he’d been since he’d left the group hug. All of his senses were bombarded by everything he could ignore from a distance, everything his goggles couldn't show him earlier, everything he’d tried to avoid. His tech ran diagnostics and gave him the facts. His actual body gave him a much worse picture. He had caught a whiff of the smell of blood earlier, but now he was overwhelmed by it. Draxum must have already started an IV, as well, because the scent of saline was nearly as strong as the noxious odors emanating from Raph. There was a tinge of alcohol, probably a swab to disinfect the insertion site, which in larger quantities might have lessened the nausea, but now only served to heighten the anxiety triggered by what he saw. Blood. So much blood. Flowing freely from uncountable cracks in his brothers shell. He hadn’t been wrong earlier, when he’d compared it to a boiled egg ready for peeling. The entire surface of it was shattered. Not a single scute was intact. None of them were even left in halves. The largest piece Donnie could see was no more than three or four square inches. But it was hard to see much through the sticky crimson stains. Then there was his leg. Raph was supporting it; something was obviously incredibly wrong. There was inky black bruising showing beneath the edge of his shorts, and another enormous swath of black wrapping around his shin. The skin there wasn’t broken, but Donnie could still see where one of the bones had been snapped, a sharp point sticking out, threatening to tear yet another hole. Worse still was Leo’s face. From further away, Donnie had already seen that it was pretty messed up, but now that he was so much closer, well, he was glad he could only see a side profile and not the whole thing. The gash on his forehead was actually one of several, all of which were still seeping copious amounts of blood. There was extensive bruising around his eye, cheek, and jaw. The area under and around his eye had the strangest texture to it, like a sock full of jagged rocks, and Donnie realized that it was caused by more tiny pieces of broken bone poking up into his flesh at odd angles. His mouth didn’t have the same texture, but if the broadening black blotches were any indicator, those bones hadn’t made it through the ordeal unscathed. Leo winced at something and the gravely texture of his cheek moved. One small shard of bone broke through the surface, a tiny speck of yellowish-white visible for a half second before being obscured by a small drop of red. Then there was the noise. The MedBay wasn’t exactly designed for good acoustics, so everything echoed, amplifying the sounds of Casey rummaging, Barry’s exasperated tsks and tutts, Splinter’s huffing and puffing and wheezing. The worst sound, though, was Leo’s breath. Each inhale was short and quick, each exhale accompanied by a tiny moan. The distress in that sound was potent. Even Donnie, who wasn’t usually affected by other people like this, could feel his own level of distress ramping up to meet Leo’s with each breath. His own breathing became the same staccato pace as his brother, his head spinning, the monologue of thoughts stuck in an endless loop of *no, no, no, no.* 

"Dee, I don't like when you trail off like that… nyuurg… please just… keep talking…" Leo broke off, coughing, followed by a low, pained, frustrated groan “nnnnrraaaaaa!”  His eyes were screwed shut as he involuntarily curled in on himself. His breathing was getting more labored by the second. A new trickle of blood started running from his mouth. 

Donnie had no idea what to do; he couldn't find the words, couldn't make a decision. Couldn’t think. He wanted to run but he was frozen. It was too much. He couldn’t take in any more information, he was overloaded, it was too much… 

Casey turned around, arms full of sterile gauze and alcohol wipes and tape, and saw Donnie looking at Leo, frozen. “Master Donatello. Hey, Donatello. Donnie! Can you hear me?” 

Through the ringing in his head, he recognized his name. Wrenching his eyes away from the horror on the hospital bed, he locked eye contact with the strange human, who seemed to understand what was happening. “Donnie, we still need your help. Do your goggles give you diagnostic information? The Donatello I knew had a pair that looked just like that." Donnie still couldn't find words, so he nodded at Casey. “Can you send them to me?” He nodded again, and with two taps and a swipe sent the readouts to the monitor behind Leo. It lit up with all the color-coded data he’d already gathered, as well as the new data the MedBay SmartLair system started monitoring the instant anyone stepped foot through the door. "Great, thank you." Looking over them with an increasingly horrified expression, Casey muttered something about pizza supreme, then turned to the group. "We need to act fast. Barry, right? Put on gloves and start packing gauze into the two puncture wounds just beneath his plastron. Raphael, put as much pressure as you can on whichever hole isn't being packed. Master Splinter, go get ice and as many blankets as you can, and if possible, get Commander O'Neil to come help too. Ma- uh… Donatello, we need a deeper brain scan. He obviously has several concussions, we need to know how bad they are and if anything in his brain is hemorrhaging." 

Everyone jumped into action the moment Casey addressed them. Donnie was extremely grateful that someone else knew what to do, and even more grateful that his job could be done from farther away. He wouldn’t be much help now; he recognized that he had reached his limit and could feel himself shutting down, but setting up a brain scan was easy. Familiar tech. Good thing that he had designed it to work without the need for physical contact. Good thing, too, that it was one of the tools that survived Shredder smashing up his old lab. It took a considerable amount of effort to get his feet to move, but once he had uprooted himself, he was running. Onto the landing, down one flight of stairs, then two. Most of his smaller equipment was stored on the second level of the lab. He ran around the catwalk until he reached the right door, blew through it, retrieving the portable brain scanner he’d made several years ago. He turned it on as he ran back upstairs, taking the steps three at a time. He hadn’t connected it to his new tekko or the MedBay SmartLair yet, but his tech had enough backward compatibility that it didn’t take any coding, merely enabling his Genius-Built™ PurpleTooth short-range radio device connections, to get them talking. While his tech skills had improved drastically since he’d first thought up this nifty little device, he was still rather proud of it. It had a directional mode, to scan one subject, or an ambient mode, which just detected any energy in the room that could be a brainwave, isolated and localized it, then recorded it. He switched it to directional as he entered the MedBay. Avoiding looking at anything except the device, he placed it on the counter on the right wall, pointed toward his brother. He used the readout on his holoscreen to focus it on Leo’s brain. He dipped back out to the landing before the smell could reach him again. It would take a moment to code the scanner to track just Leo, and to translate the readings into something resembling an MRI for Casey to read. 

*Keep it together, Donatello, just a few minutes more, then they’ll have all the information they need to make sure that dum-dum Nardo doesn’t kick the dum-dum bucket.*

[likeabxrdinflight]

tired of early 20-somethings acting like harry potter was never good or had no value in its day like shut the fuck up half of you weren't even there when it peaked

[keelanrosa]

terfs when a study shows literally anything positive about trans people/transitioning: 'hm i think this requires some fact-checking. Were those researchers REALLY unbiased? Because if they were biased this doesn't count and if they weren't knowingly biased they probably were unconsciously biased, woke media affects so much these days. Have there been any other studies on this? Because if there haven't been this could be an outlier and if there have been and they all agree that's a bit odd, why aren't there any outliers, and if there have been and any disagree we really won't know the truth until we very thoroughly analyze them all, will we? Were there enough subjects for a good sample size? Did every single subject involved stay involved through the whole study because if they didn't we should be sure nothing shady was going on resulting in people dropping out. Are we 110% sure all the subjects were fully honest and at no point were embarrassed or afraid to admit they didn't love transitioning to the people in charge of their transition? Are we 110% sure none of the subjects were manipulated into thinking they were happy with their transition? In fact we should double-check what they think with their parents, because if the subjects and their parents disagree it's probably because they've been manipulated but their cis parents have not and are very unbiased. How many autistic subjects were there because if there weren't enough then this doesn't really study the overlap between autistic and trans and if there were too many then we just don't know enough about what causes that overlap to be sure this study really explains being trans and isn't just about being autistic. How many AFAB subjects were there because if there weren't enough this is just another example of prioritizing AMAB people and ignoring the different struggles of girls and women and if there were too many how do we know sexism didn't affect the results. Was the study double-blinded? We all know double-blinded is the most reliable so if this one wasn't that's a point against it even if the thesis literally physically could not be double-blinded. Look i'm not being transphobic, i want what's best for trans people! Really! But as a person who is not trans and therefore objective in a way they cannot possibly be, i just think we should only take into account Good Science here. You want to be following science and not being manipulated or experimented upon by something unscientific, right?'

terfs when they see a study of 45 subjects so old it predates modern criteria for gender dysphoria and basically uses 'idk her parents think she's too butch', run by a guy who practiced conversion therapy, 'confirmed' by a guy who treated the significant portion of subjects who didn't follow up as all desisting, definitely in the category of 'physically cannot double-blind this', completely contradicted by multiple other studies done on actual transgender subjects, but can be kinda cited as evidence against transitioning if you ignore everything else about it: 'oOOH SEE THIS IS WHAT WE'RE TALKIN BOUT. SCIENCE. Just good ol' unbiased thorough analysis. I see absolutely no reason to dig any deeper on this and if you think it's wrong you're the one being unscientific. It's really a shame you've been so thoroughly brainwashed by the trans agenda and can't even accept science when you see it. Maybe now that someone has finally uncovered this long-lost study from 1985, we can make some actual progress on the whole trans problem.'

[poisonedspider]

If he had a nose, it would be scrunching up right now, and in a way he was glad that he didn't so his emotions he wore on his sleeve were far less noticeable. Valentino was right, he was assuming a lot, and Angel knew that little streak of not exactly disobeying - but not exactly being willing and pliable on a day about Val - could possibly get him in trouble the next day at the studio if he didn't watch himself.

But Valentino's thought process would be right - no one could blame Angel. It wasn't like he hadn't been around both Overlords many times, but it hadn't been in this capacity. Being vulnerable with Valentino was one thing, and even that was incredibly difficult, but Vox was a complete wildcard. Fortunately Angel was incredibly good at picking up on body language, thanks to all his time interrogating in the mafia.

"It's an eternity colla'." He's smiling at Valentino as he says this, eyes never taken away from him, though clearly talking to Vox as he had caught him staring. "Kinda' like a dom/sub thing. Th' only one who can take it off is our birthday boy right here." Thankfully, no one at the hotel would know that. Well...maybe Niffty...she definitely had that level of freak. But if others knew, that would be...a lot to explain.

His eyes notice the slight trepidation in Vox about being so public, bringing a hand to his upper arm and gently stroking a finger down it. Reassurance in silence. Noticing how challenging it was to accompany them both - sorry Vox, your head is huge sir - Angel used his flexibility to easily slide off Valentino's thigh with one leg without bumping into the Media Demon.

That one leg bent up slightly now so he still remained pressed against the moth, practically still straddling his thigh, just at a diagonal. Just enough so he could curl against Valentino's side, the core of his arousal perfectly against the thick of the femoral region. Just enough that Val would probably notice how warm and damp that area was getting, between the drugs, and now literally watching two Overlords he thought were hot make out.

It wasn't like he hadn't seen it before - the Overlords weren't exactly subtle when they were in an 'on again' period - but it had obviously never been this close. Which also had him raising an eyebrow, letting out a little laugh. "So that's how yeh' fuckas' kiss." The whole tongue/mouth thing had never made sense to Angie. Humming, he brought a hand down Val's stomach, fingers only barely dipping into the waistband of his pants, simply leaving little touches.

"Babe, maybe if this uh...escalates....we should take it somewhere else." Val would know that it wasn't because of Angel. Angel loved being front and center. He was on everyone's televisions being fucked, public sex was far from embarrassing. He would know that he was being considerate of Vox, and Vox would know he was trying to support him in that flicker of nerves that he had seen.

@mothvalentino

Fucking finally.

It wasn't that Val expected his two lovers to immediately throw themselves at him, they could've chatted a while for all he cared. But now it seems like Angel finally got the message that his skittishness was uncalled for. The pimp would've run out of ways to phrase that the spider is welcome otherwise. Then again, could he really blame him for being overly cautious? No. But fuck, it's his birthday and he didn't sign up to do fucking talk therapy when he came here.

Val slowly raises his head when he feels Angel straddle his thigh, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his mouth.

ཐིཋྀ "And whatever gave you the idea that I don't want you two to get along, hm? Did I say you couldn't get to know each other?", he murmurs because, despite his satisfaction, that particular comment of Angel still irked him,

"You assume a hell lot tonight, Angel baby. Time to get outta ya fucking head."

It sounds like a veiled threat but Val's hand is gentle as it cups his top star's cheek, sliding down his neck until his thumb rests on the heart-shaped lock of his collar. One of his lower hands snakes around the spider's figure, settling on the small of his back. On his other side, he reaches for Vox's shoulder, rubbing it before long fingers slip around the back of his partner's neck. A nonverbial invitation to come closer.

@hellmxses

[wheucto]

finally decided to start watching s2e17 of ii

[lesbxdyke]

I would like to again big up libraries as safe spaces for people of all types!

I had a psychotic episode in my local library while I was in there working and had convinced myself that I was in a bubble dimension and if I left the library I would die, and that being what had happened to the librarian because I hadn't seen them in an hour (it's a small, local library. You can see the librarians desk from where I sit to work)

Now obviously they weren't dead, they were just in the little office that I couldn't see into.

I'm also lucky enough to be a very self aware psychotic, so I reached out to my support network to make sure I got home safely. But none of them could actually get me OUT of the library and I was still absolutely certain that if I stepped off the carpet and onto the tile, I would die.

So I got up, I made my way to the desk, I found the librarian and I said "I need your help. I'm having a psychotic episode and this is what I currently believe. Could you please come out from behind your desk and stand on the tiles so I can see it won't kill me?"

And they did. They didn't shame me, or laugh, or tell me it wasn't real. They said "Yeah, that must be scary." And thanked me when I admitted I'd thought them dead and been really upset about that because I liked them.

And then stood there on the tile, while I stood on the carpet, for ten minutes while I chatted shit and tried to build up my courage to step on the tile, just in case. Including telling me that if this happened again and I needed to call someone, to disregard the usual 'don't call people in the library' rule and just do so after I promised I was going to be calling my husband the second I was on the tile so he could safely walk me home.

(& so no one worries: my husband got me home safe, and a friend came to check on me a little while later and brought me food and I'm fully Cognizant and out of it now)

I cannot imagine another place where I could approach someone and say that and not get the police or an ambulance called on me. Neither of which I needed or would have been helpful.

I cannot imagine another place where a member of staff would stand somewhere for ten minutes to make sure I felt safe enough leaving.

I cannot imagine another place where I would not only be explicitly welcomed back, but be told "If this happens again here, disregard our normal rules to take care of yourself."

I cannot imagine another place on this earth that I would feel safe enough returning to, 3 days later, after an episode like that.

Libraries are a fucking Godssend and should be protected at all costs!

[candescentkpop]

Leedo

Oneus: Valkyrie

Oneus Part 88 / ∞

[ghost-of-kurdt-haunts-my-room]

Master Chief on Hug Duty

[drdemonprince]

The conversations about accountability & apologies that we've been having in social justice circles these last few years have basically trained everybody to fawn.

We've been telling people that if they are accused of any wrongdoing or of hurting anybody's feelings, it is their obligation to apologize immediately, and never to hedge, disagree, or to explain their rationale what they've done.

In their apology, we expect them to articulate every single thing that they have done that was damaging in the strongest language possible and to declare outright that they have harmed someone, often multiple groups of people, even if they are not sure of the impact (or could not even possibly be sure).

If a person's apology is anything but immediate and entirely self-excoriating, we accuse the person of downplaying the damage they have done, failing to be accountable, and manipulating others.

In this way, we've made it impossible for a person to ever take their own side lest that be taken itself as a form of wrongdoing. We have trained our fellow social-justice-minded people to believe that if they do anything but worsen the case against themselves, they are being irresponsible.

I say we, in all of this, because I have partaken in all of this rhetoric, made these kinds of criticism, given accused people this type of advice.

And I have followed it myself, often to a damaging effect.

I have taken responsibility for problems in which I truly did not believe I played a part, I've overstated the damage that I've done so as not to risk understating it, I've ascribed malice to my intentions when I knew it wasn't there, I've agreed with people's most negative, bad-faith narratives about conflicts involving me that they were not even present for, offered up information about myself that was not a third party's business in the name of transparency, apologized for things I haven't done -- and in doing all of this, I have denied my loved ones the opportunity to really hear me about what I was going through and my motivations when I was in conflict with them, things that any true friend or close associate would obviously want to hear about if they cared about me.

This aim of giving the perfect apology and taking perfect accountability has been nothing but an isolating force in my life, because it has barred me from openly entering into necessary conflict with people when our needs were incompatible or they had hurt me just as much as I'd hurt them. The fear of being a manipulative, unaccountable DARVO-er has led me to roll onto my back and expose my belly, falling over myself with panicked apologies and the most unflattering information possible cast in the least explicable light, almost outright begging for others to become angrier at me and believing that it was only way I could ever possibly be accepted back.

We've drilled into people that the way to be good and responsible is to allow people to view us as negatively as possible, to even arm others with information that will confirm that point of view, and to never insert our own perspective or needs on the matter at all.

And yeah, there are a lot of shitty people out there who dodge accountability easily because their power ensconces them from any consequences. but the primary problem with that was never that they wrote a shitty notesapp apology that used the unforgivable phrase "I am sorry if you felt XYZ." The real problem was that there was no community that held enough influence to hold them to account, and for their victims there weren't ever adequate supports or protections.

instead of addressing any of that in a remotely systematic way, we have taken to picking apart every accused person's every word and deed for evidence of inner moral failure and created a culture in which we think we can determine a person's safety by how artfully they put words together when they are under threat. and what do you know, plenty of bad faith actors and conflict avoidant cowards and people who just dont understand what they are even being accused of can do that just fine.

[cy-cyborg]

So, there's a lot I want to say about the paralypics, but every time I try I just... can't articulate what I want to say without it turning into a monster of a post that puts my writing advice posts to shame lol. This includes in response to the anonymous asks I got on the topic btw. So I'm going to try and summarise my thoughts here.

As someone who was working towards the Rio paralympics - who was basically one of the people they were actively training to be the next paralympians and who got to go if their choice first athletes had to drop out, the Olympics and paralympics are a... touchy subject for me. I loved playing. I loved my sport. I loved the people I played with. I loved the people I played against. But the way the public and people in power treats disabled athletes sucks. It Really really sucks. and it hurts to talk about.

The vast, vast majority of us aren't paid. We are expected to train at the same intensity as the Olympians with none of the breaks and none of the support to do so, resulting in injuries that are disabling in and of themselves, while juggling normal jobs. many of the paralympians are also in school or at university as well. both schools and jobs see these elite athletes as dedicated hobbiests at best.

I had a friend who were fired from their job because they were denied time off to compete at the paralypics and well, if i had to choose between the paralympics or stay at a shit job paying minimum wage, I know which one I'd pick, and so she didnt have a job when she came back. I have friends who are still in the closet because their sponsors would drop them if they came out as gay, who ended years-long relationships to keep the funding that allowed them and their teams to compete - funding that just covered the costs of travel by the way. They never saw a cent of it themselves, but it was the difference between us having to pay $50 each for our plane tickets and accommodation and having to pay $2,000Aud + for every away game. I have friends who were supposed to go to Tokeyo but were kicked off the teams weeks before the games because of a rule change that decided they weren't disabled enough anymore, wasting years of work with absolutely no warning. They weren't even given the decency of an appology from the people who made the call. Several went through terrifying mental health spirals over it. It was their life's work, gone. I saw so many friends just give up because their disabilities were "too hard to classify" into the International Paralympic Commity's boxes and who were made to feel they weren't welcome by the system spouting off about its diversity and inclusion and empowerment of disabled people.

And then with all that, the best we can hope for is for the social media teams to turn us into a joke for ableds to laugh at or into inspiration porn to make them feel good about themselves - because at least theyre not us. Because obviously, there are no other options in how to show us/sarcasm.

My phone doesn't even have "paralympics" as a recognised word. I have a Samsung. The company that is currently at the paralympics using them as a marketing opertunity. We aren't even recognised as a word in the phones made by the company that is currently using the paralympics as a marketing opportunity. The phones they're giving the athletes won't even recognise the name of the event that they got it at. If I've spelt it wrong, it's because it autocorrects it every time I try to spell it right, and im dyslexic and can't see the difference until I stare at it for a minute or so.

I just... this isn't even scratching the surface of my thoughts. But I wanted to say at least some of it. It will be the last I'm going to talk about it, at least until the event is over.

[thevoidstaredback]

A funny thought just came to me, so here's a new writing prompt:

The Justice League doesn't think that Batman has a civilian identity. For the most part, he only ever comes out at night, adding to the nocturnal rumors, but he has been seen during the day when there are huge problems or bigger rouge attacks.

And, because the JL don't think he has a civilian identity, they naturally assume that none of the other Gotham Vigilantes do, either. Signal, the only consistent day shift, is obviously a different breed than the rest. All of the others are nocturnal.

Extra points if they think they're a group of cryptids.

One day, Bruce and Tim are needed to help set up at WE for a press conference. One that Lois Lane is covering. At the same time, the JL Is having a meeting. Normally Dick would put on the Batman suit, but Nightwing is needed at the meeting, too. They can't say that Batman is off world, because all of those trips are logged and followed by the Lanterns. So, the next logical thing to do is for Nightwing to tell the JL that Batman and Red Robin were needed as civilians, but he will make sure to pass the information on to them, as well as record the meeting.

"Batman doesn't have a civilian identity," Is the response he gets. "None of you do, right?"

Nightwing, for all his training, doesn't react outside of his smile getting slightly bigger. "You don't think we have secret identities?"

"No, we kinda just assumed you all just hid away in a cave or something when you weren't needed or on duty."

Oh, these sweet summer children. Nightwing is trying very hard not to laugh at them. "We, we do have secret identities, we don't do nothing when we aren't in costume."

"Are you sure?" That's the Flash. "'Cause I'm pretty sure we'd recognize you guys out of costume." Kudos to him for being so confident about that. "Most of you only have tiny masks over your eyes. That's not enough to cover an identity."

Nightwing takes a glance at Superman, not that anyone can see his eyes move behind the domino mask. The alien's eyes have shifted left.

"I've been to Gotham plenty of time," Green Arrow speaks up, "I know I haven't seen everyone in the city, but I'm pretty sure I'd recognize your build. It's pretty distinct."

Bold. All of the Wayne Clan have met Green Arrow in and out of costume. They've actually met most of the JL in and out of costume. Should he tell them? Nah, that's not funny. He can't wait to tell the others.

[l13]

cw: nsfw! 18+ mdni, f!reader

BEST FRIEND'S DAD!CLARK KENT who has to subtly give you a once over when Jon introduces you as his best friend from uni. Has to try not to smile as you stare at him dreamily. Who feels strangely satisfied when you manage to say “Pleasure to meet you, sir.” Bf's dad, Clark, who tilts his head to the side just the slightest bit, and offers you his hand as if you weren't eye fucking him just now, “Pleasure's all mine, sweetheart.”

Bf’s dad, Clark, who always greets you with a big smile when you come over.

Bf’s dad Clark, who holds the car door open for you when he drops you off at your house late at night.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who’s so easy to talk to. Who listens carefully whenever you speak, always holding eye-contact. Who despite his size, is an absolute sweetheart. All wide eyes and dimples.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who the waiter mistakes for your boyfriend when taking your order, Jon conveniently timed to have been in the bathroom. Clark’s eyes widen comically, ears and cheekbones turning a lovely shade of red, as he waves his hands lowly, “Oh we’re not-” “So what’ll you have, honey?” your voice cuts him off, eyes still on the menu as you flip through it. When Clark doesn’t answer, you look up at him, raising your eyebrows and biting back a smile. 

You were enjoying this, he realized.

Bf’s dad, Clark, who can’t look at you in the eyes ever since. Who fidgets when you enter the room, making up any excuse to leave just to avoid thinking about you in that way. Because he does think about you. A lot. How couldn’t he? With your glitter covered eyes, lip gloss stained lips, and short skirts? He was a goner. He’d rather kick a wall than have to watch you reapply your lip gloss for the nth time. 

Bf’s dad Clark who has to pause his reading, glasses hanging from the bridge of his nose when you come over all giddy after a nail appointment, nails painted milky white, bows and other trinkets decorating them. Who has to hum and nod when you show them to him, acting as if he isn’t imagining your pretty hands around his cock. “Mm. Very pretty,” 

Bf’s dad, Clark, who has to watch you put cream on your legs while you’re all watching a movie. As if it's very common to do so in front of your best friend's dad. He thinks it shouldn’t be as erotic as it looked. Clark tries hard to keep his eyes glued on the tv and not stare at the way you sensually rub your hands up and down your thighs and calves.

Bf’s dad Clark who stiffens up, when Jon claims that “your legs are so sticky after though,” because how would his son know that?

Bf's dad Clark, who tosses and turns all night, trying to think back to all your past encounters, trying to pierce together how he missed the fact that you and Jon were dating. Because if you were, he was downright fucked.

Bf's dad Clark, who slowly starts getting mad at his son for not making it more obvious. For not kissing you whenever he saw you, not offering to drive you home, not treating you right. Clark who groans lowly and runs a hand down his face when he realizes that he's jealous of his own son.

Bf’s dad Clark who corners Jon the next morning, asking him all sorts of questions. “We’re obviously dating dad, I thought you knew..?”

Bf's dad, Clark who turns rigid, raising his voice at Jon for the first time in his life, still trying to be quiet for your sake, as you’re still sleeping upstairs. Whose fury isn't pointed to the fact that you and his son were dating, but more so to the fact that Jon didn’t pamper you enough. Didn’t give you any extra attention, didn’t spoil you like you deserved. And poor Jon has to hear his dad tell him to “Be a good boyfriend, I taught you better than that.”

Bf’s dad Clark, who gives his son a pointed look  when you finally come down to eat, yawning as you grab some cereal. Who has to watch his son turn and give you a quick peck on the lips, and then continue eating as if nothing happened. Has to watch you blink twice in surprise before shrugging and going back to your own food. 

Bf’s dad Clark who regrets telling his son to be more physical with you because he almost breaks a glass in his hands when he sees his son hugging you from behind one evening.

Bf's dad Clark, who clenches his jaw when you announce that you're going to leave and Jon jumps up to escort you, and walk you home. Clark who so badly wants to insist that he can take you home. That it's too cold out to walk, that a drive would be better. Clark who keeps his mouth shut instead.

Bf’s dad Clark who wants to curse Jon for inviting you over to their summer house. Clark who has to watch you walk around with your tiny bikini, skin still glistening when you get out of the pool. Clark who clenches his jaw tight and looks the other way when you offer to help Jon put some sunscreen on. 

Bf’s dad Clark who finds you in the kitchen that same night, swallowing hard as he watches you take a bite of a strawberry you were holding, claiming you were craving something sweet. 

Bf’s dad Clark who fucks you right against the counter you were leaning against, who has to hold his hand over your mouth as he circles his hips against you, his cock snug inside your tight cunt. Clark who melts when you give him an open-mouthed kiss, begging him to take you to bed. To his bed.

Bf’s dad Clark who can’t find himself worrying about the creaking of his bed when you’re riding him so well. Clark who hisses, and whose eyes roll back when you graze your nails against his pecs. Who has to fight the urge to bend you over and fuck you till you’re crying, has to remind himself that you’d definitely wouldn't be quiet then, when you’re barely keeping it together now. Clark who pulls you skin tight against him, who loves to feel your moans and whimpers against his lips.

Bf’s dad Clark, who wakes up the next day with you in his arms, swears he’d never slept so soundly in his life. Bf’s dad Clark who presses kisses all over your face, who later fucks you in the shower, and despite not wanting to ruin the moment, has to say something,

“Fuck, we can’t do this again. You’re dating my son, for God’s sake-”

“Clark. Jon is gay.”

oh.

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[apomaro-mellow]

inspired by this post

The last thing on Steve's mind was Eddie Munson. Even when he was all Dustin could talk about. He barely spared the guy a thought when they were in school together to begin with. Eddie occupied precisely zero percent of his brain space.

So it was kind of jarring to have him suddenly take up all the space he had. Steve had come to the school to pick up Dustin, Mike, and Lucas only to see them crowding around Eddie, who was holding one of the nurse's trusty ice packs to his face.

Steve usually just honked his horn to get them to run up and get in, but there was no separating them right now. And the moment Steve walked over, there was a cacophony of voices, shouting over each other. He had to shout even louder to get them to stop and Eddie's wince didn't go unnoticed.

Once it was quiet, Steve only asked. "Who?"

"Jason and his cronies", Mike spat out.

"All of you, car. Now."

"But-!"

"Now!", Steve ordered. The three of them shifted and Steve realized he needed to be specific because obviously they weren't going to leave Eddie behind. And leaving him wasn't a part of Steve's plan either.

"All of you. Munson, you get to ride shotgun."

He didn't wait long enough to see Eddie's expression before turning to get in his car. There was a mad scramble and once again they continued to shout at each other, trying to tell the story. Steve didn't even bother trying to quiet them then, settling for having to piece together the story.

He knew Lucas had tried out for basketball. Between Steve and Mr. Sinclair, he'd gone from hopeless to hopeful. Steve even warned Lucas that sometimes the team did a little hazing for the new recruits. Apparently the hazing went too far in Lucas' case and Eddie stepped in.

Steve never would have expected Eddie to care. To actually step between Lucas and danger when he'd gone out for sports instead of his weird nerd club. Steve found it easy to relate. When they got to his house, he didn't mean to, but basically manhandled Eddie to the bathroom where the first aid kit was.

"Umm-"

"Don't talk", Steve said. Both because he needed to work on his face and also because he wasn't sure what Eddie would say. This was weird, of course it was. But it was the right thing to do. Steve wondered when the right thing would start to feel less weird. After patching Eddie up, he sent him to the living room. Dustin had already turned the tv to something, taking advantage of the Harrington's sound system. And Mike and Lucas were already raiding the fridge.

"Don't get too comfortable", Steve said, hands on his hips. He sighed before heading up to his room. The nail bat was still in his trunk, but he wouldn't need a weapon that rough. When he came back downstairs, bat hanging over his shoulder, Eddie's non-swollen eye got wide.

"Where are you going with that?"

"Taking care of some business", Steve said. "If I'm not back in an hour, order some pizza. Eddie and only Eddie is allowed to drink the beers in the fridge."

There was a trio of groans, but Eddie was still to gobsmacked to speak.

"What the hell is he about to do?", he finally found the words once Steve was out the door.

"Probably gonna bust some kneecaps on Lucas' behalf", Mike said before crunching on a handful of potato chips.

Eddie looked to Dustin for confirmation. There was no way, right? But Dustin only grinned.

"I told you. Bad. Ass."

Eddie still didn't believe it even when Steve returned, a bit sweaty and hair slightly mussed, the beginning of a bruise on his cheek but otherwise unscathed.

He had to believe it when he found out Jason and a few other players suddenly had broken hands or legs.

[st7rnioioss]

INTRODUCING... BEST FRIEND!CHRIS x INEXPERIENCED!READER ۶ৎ

— a bsf!chris x inexperienced!reader moodboard

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who's been friends with chris since birth. your mom is best friends with chris's mom, and coincidentally enough, they both had kids at the same time. even though chris has three brothers, you always went to him, rather than anyone else—being neighbors was also a huge plus. if you got in a fight with your mom or dad, you bet chris is there to comfort you whenever you knock on his door.

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who always received snarky comments from girls throughout high school. they always put her down or asked if she was dating chris, some even going as far as bullying her, telling her she wasn't pretty enough for him—he is fairly attractive, there's no denying that. but what they didn't understand, is that you’re just friends... right?

INEXPERIENCED!READER... whos high school experience definitely affected her social life. she was always too shy to ask out any guys she found remotely attractive, and most of them assumed she was dating chris anyway from all the gossip anyway. and on top of that, she liked to keep her tight-knit friends close. whenever she wasn't hanging onto chris, it was matt. and if it wasn't matt, it was nick. and if it was neither of them, which it rarely was, it was her few girlfriends.

INEXPERIENCED!READER... who always avoids the talk of relationships, kissing, crushes- all that jazz. you’re aware chris has had a girlfriend once or twice, and you didn't mind at all. yet, sometimes you felt that pit in her stomach, almost aching to have that close of a relationship with someone that wasn't just best friends since birth. or was it really just jealousy you felt?

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who is best, best friends with you. sure, chris has his brothers, nate, and a few other friends, but he's always prioritizing you. and he didn't care that some of his friends thought he was your biggest admirer, always asking when he'd finally get to his senses and ask you out, when really that was his biggest struggle.

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who really is a lovestruck idiot. he's completely wrapped around your finger, always helping you out with literally anything, helping you stand up for yourself whenever someone gets too nosy in your friendship, always the first one to help you out with homework, though he barely got the hang of it.

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who didn’t stay with his girlfriend for too long. it could get a little messy at times when he wanted to hang out with you more and had to cancel a date. yes, he loved his girlfriend, but his sick and twisted mind always drifted toward you whenever she kissed him. how stupid of him to think that getting a girlfriend would get his mind off of you. in reality, he tried to fill that pit in his chest he felt whenever he knew that you guys weren't more than friends, which only turned out to ruin his relationship completely. that friday he stayed in your bed all weekend, which obviously was because he needed the comfort after a toxic breakup... right?

BEST FRIEND!CHRIS... who always kept his feelings for you a secret. he’d been so, so sure he would never tell you, too nervous that he’d scare you off and ruin your perfect friendship, and lose his best friend since diapers. instead, he just tried to act normal around you, though he was dying to just pull you in for a kiss.

MASTERLIST

۶ৎ when best friend!chris can’t keep his hands and mind off inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ inexperienced!reader giving bsf!chris head for the first time 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris guiding inexperienced!reader how to ride 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris being not-so-subtle when putting sunscreen on inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,fluff + suggestive

۶ৎ bsf!chris teaching inexperienced!reader how to finger herself, but he can't seem to hold back 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ bsf!chris teaching wanting inexperienced!reader to sit on his face 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

۶ৎ the types of videos bsf!chris sends inexperienced!reader 𓂃 ֹ genre,,smut

𝜗𝜚˚࿔ notes: he's a little sick and twisted but ohhhh he's in love!!!!

۶ৎ taglist: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn @loveparqdise @delilahsturniolo @phone4pills @sturnsmia @hearts4werka @cayleeuhithinknott @strnilolover @sturnvxz @lovergirl4gracieabrams @ifwdominicfike @toftomgmf @emely9274 @sturnioloangell @blushsturns @forgottxen @slut4chris888 @marrykisskilled @sophand4n4 @sturnihoelooo @strnsvhx

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023