#crochet box stitch
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trying out a new stitch to use for a phone bag 🐚
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Entrelac Afghan Pattern
Entrelac Crochet Afghan Pattern Entrelac Afghan + Video Tutorial Entrelac Crochet is the art of creating gorgeous afghans that have boxed shapes that grow with each other. The concept is really easy once you understand the concept and stitch counts. I’ve filmed a video showing the step by step process of creating an Entrelac Crochet Afghan. In the original pattern, you will see the edges are in…
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#boxed block stitch#Crochet Blanket#Crochet Throw#Crochet Tutorial#Easy#Entrelac#Free Entrelac Pattern#Free Tunisian Pattern#Tunisian
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Taken by craft madness.
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NO! *angry cat hiss*
I don't know who needs to hear this, but
YOU DO NOT NEED TO START A NEW HOBBY!
STEP AWAY FROM THE TEXTILES!
YOU DON'T NEED MORE YARN!
THAT FABRIC IS NOT CALLING TO YOU! LEAVE IT ALONE!
#you can pry them from my cold dead hands#*aggressively shoves the 7 unfinished projects back in the box*#that siren song can take me#Hobbies#Textile Arts#Crochet#Knitting#Weaving#Cross Stitch#Spinning yarn#Quilting#save
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I think that if I'll ever actually learn embroidery I'm going to try sell my stuff, I uhhh make a lot more than I can keep tbh so it would be nice to make stuff and then sending it elsewhere + getting a little bit of money
#right now I'm really getting into macrame and 1 i don't like the stuff hanged on a wall but??? it seems so fun to make those#i don't want to keep those just make them fjskdks#also the crochet plushies....... i have so many and i dread moving and having to bring all that stuff already#i really need to make money and move quickly before i make another huge box of plushies rip#thankfully cross stitch is years of work for something that occupy no space
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I was wondering if you could write something about how the Batboys (and maybe Bruce) would react to their s/o who knits or crochets and makes them little gifts just randomly? like little things like a hat or a scarf. Maybe even small plushies of their vigilante personas? (Btw I absolutely LOVE your work)
Dick he fucking loves it!
Seriously dick loved the hat you made him and he’ll wear it even when he didn’t have to, he’s grown too attached to it to the point where he becomes possessive over it.
‘My beautiful and amazing partner made me this hat!’ He��d exclaim.
‘Dick your indoors take the fucking hat off.’ Jason groans but dick was more then willing to look a fucking idiot and keep the hat on throughout the rest of the day, even in his sleep he still wears the hat as it’s your gift to him and who was he to deny the opportunity in wearing it all the time!
He even takes pictures of himself wearing the hat and sending them to you and thanking you for the hat that you’ve made him. He looks so unbelievably happy for someone wearing a hat but to dick it wasn’t just a hat, it was a hat that you made him in your spare time and he couldn’t help it but want to wear it everywhere he goes because again it was something you made especially for him.
So except this loveable man to constantly find ways to wear the hat no matter what.
Raining? He’s wearing the hat.
Snowing? He’s wearing the hat.
Spending time with you in your apartment? He’s wearing the hat as though his life depends on it. He really loves your creation and will shout it from the rooftops that his beautiful partner made it for him and no one else can have it because it’s his!
Damian acts like he hates it but is secretly touched that he was in your thoughts when making such a gift.
He’s not use to someone giving him gifts or going out of their way to make him something he’ll use when the occasion arises. He’s got a light flush going across his face as he caresses the soft scarf that you’ve made him when he told you he misplaced his last one.
‘What’s the meaning behind this gift.’ Damian asks, skeptical of the sudden gift on his lap.
You shrug. ‘You told me you lost your last one-‘
‘Misplaced by continue.’ Damian cuts you off.
‘And I thought that I’d make you one instead and I hope you like it.’ You finished and watched as he opened the bag to find a soft black and emerald green scarf looking back at him. Damian blinks twice before gingerly pulling the scarf out of the box and holds it between his hands as his thumbs get accustomed to the soft material.
Damian doesn’t say much but puts the scarf on and feels himself melting in the softness of it as he takes the time to appreciate your craftsmanship. He loves your gift but doesn’t say it out loud as he’s not attuned to speaking his emotions freely like most people, but you could tell by the way he sinks into the scarf that he likes it and wouldn’t take it off unless he was dead and buried six feet under, and even then you knew you wouldn’t be able to pry the gift from his hands at all from this moment forward.
‘You like it?’ You asked.
‘It’s suitable to combat the cold, the stitching is immaculate and well done.’ Damian compliments as he adjusts the scarf on his neck, tucking it under his chin. ‘Yes this shall replace the other one…until I find it of course.’ He adds and you knew Damian well enough that he wasn’t going to bother finding the other scarf, not that he has a perfectly new one to keep him warm.
So to say you weren’t surprised to see that he was still wearing the scarf months later, claiming he’s still looking for the other one as a fluster looked overcame him that he quickly hide it with the scarf, once again melting in it and the love you’ve put in it just for him.
Bruce smiles softly as he holds a miniature crochet version of himself as Batman between his large hands. It’s cute to him that you took the time to make him this and from the looks of it, it must’ve took you a while to perfect and he couldn’t help but treasure such a gift crafted by your bare hands.
You’ll find the crochet Batman, also known as Batman jr, perched on his desk in the bathroom cave right in from of the keyboard to the bathroom computer. It looked at though the little guy was helping his human counterpart solve crime and make Gotham a better place. It was too cute you thought you were going to die!
‘I’m seeing that you like your gift?’ You asked Bruce as you held up Batman jr from his place at the bat computer.
Bruce chuckled. ‘He was doing some important work for me until you decided to pick him up.’ He joked as he presses a kiss to the side of your head, drawing you closer to him so he could indulge in your presence and hum softly. ‘But I do in fact love the gift, you didn’t have to but I appreciate the work and details you put into him for me my love.’ He adds, given your temple another kiss.
You snuggled yourself deeper into his arms as you both look down at the cute crochet plushie as though it were your child. ‘I’m more than happy that you like it Bruce, I just thought you get lonely sometimes and needed a companion to remind yourself that you’re nowhere near as alone as you’d think.’ You tell him, only to see his soft expression as he looked at you and the crochet version of himself before tightening his grip.
‘Thank you for your hard effort and love to bringing this creation to life my dear, I shall treasure you both for as long as you allow me to.’ He whispers as he kisses you on the lips.
He loves Batman jr and will pet its head when no one’s looking. It’s a reminder of your love for him and he couldn’t help but bestow it with the highest of honour, being his little vigilante companion.
Tim is his most prized possession, he will not loose sight of it and will have it on his being at all times when the occasion calls for it.
He puts his little crochet version of himself on a shelf or keeps it on his person, especially if it’s those crochet bag clip accessories then he’ll proudly have it clipped to his bag, while checking to make sure the little guy was still there and not fallen off anywhere without him knowing.
He’ll cry if he did loose it and will hate himself forever for wasting your hard work and effort. God forbid he accidentally rips it, then he’ll be inconsolable as he brings it towards you with an extremely guilty look upon his face. ‘I’m sorry I broke your gift.’ He’d say and you’d have to hold his face between your hands and pepper kisses across his face as you promise to fix it.
When you do give it back to him, Tim acts as though it’s the first time again with how his face brightens up and how he holds it against his chest, promising to cherish it forever and ever while giving you a kiss to your lips in thanks and appreciation.
He appreciates your gift and is determined to hold it to his heart forever because he’ll never know if he’ll ever get a gift as beautiful as this ever again.
Jason buries himself into the blanket that you’ve made him the moment you gave it to him and he feels as though he’s in heaven and feels close to crying because of how loved he felt through this singular act.
He cherishes the blanket like his life depends on it as it’s now his item of comfort for when he’s dealing with night terrors. To Jason anything that related to you was more then enough to calm him down and bring him back to reality and away from his own mind for a little bit. This is only proven more true when he feels lonely he clings onto the blanket and remembers that you were there, you were with him still and he wasn’t alone anymore like he was before.
He didn’t want to be alone again and you were certain to make it know that he wasn’t, not under your watch.
If that didn’t make him tear up a little, the note you stitched onto the blanket certainly did the trick.
‘Dear jay bird, hope you like the blanket I made you! I didn’t want you to be without anything with sentimental value, so I made this blanket for you as a reminder that I love you, that I’m not going anywhere and that you’re not broken. You’re just a lonely man with a heart in need of healing and I’ll gladly heal and kiss your heart until it’s fully healed again. I’m right here if you need anything baby, love your little chipmunk.’
Jason held the blanket closer to his chest, kissing the fabric as he fell asleep tucked in it warmth and your love and hard work that went into making this for him. He feels happier, lighter then he had ever felt before and he didn’t ever want to let this feeling go at all as he grips the blanket tighter in his hands, pulling it up to his chin as he allows him held to be vulnerable underneath it.
He genuinely loves your gift to him and wouldn’t want anything else but something made purely by your hands and your hands alone.
#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc x you#dc fanfic#dc comics x reader#dc fic#dc x y/n#dc fanfiction#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd imagines#jason todd x you#dick grayson x you#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson imagines#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fluff#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne fluff#bruce wayne x reader#bruce wayne imagine#damian wayne x you#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#damian wayne imagines#damian wayne fluff#tim drake imagines#tim drake x reader#tim drake imagine
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Hiiiii, could I make a request where Natasha goes away for a week long mission and comes back to find her and her S/O's apartment covered woth crocheted stuff? Like blankets, couch covers, pillow cases, rug, curtains, and just this massive box of little crocheted teddy animals and her S/O sat in the couch filling the second box,
because when they're stressed they crochet and Natasha's mission stressed her out so Nat walks in to find them surrounded by crocheted stuff and they're just like "...I missed you 🥰" with lots of cuddles
Stressed Stiches
Summary: When Natasha returns from her mission, she realizes just how stressed her absence made you feel. In an attempt to soothe your impending anxiety, a certain craft keeps you busy while waiting for your girlfriend’s return. Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,161 Warnings/themes: Super fluffy! A/N: I extended this request a little, I hope you enjoy! <3
The apartment door squeaked open, a cautious redhead on the other side grimacing in hopes she wouldn’t wake you up. After a week out of town on an important mission, Natasha finally returned home. You were reluctant to let her leave, knowing the kind of trouble she finds herself in time after time. Your constant text messages and calls never failed to keep your girlfriend in check—from always saying goodmorning and goodnight, to reminding her how much you love her and miss her. Every single time Natasha’s phone lit up with a message from you, she smiled, the warmth in her heart growing each time she remembered you were waiting for her at home.
Natasha glanced around the apartment, confirming you’d definitely gone to sleep. She knows you’re not one to stay up late, especially in the depths of night when she usually gets home from missions. All of the lamps were off, for once, your habit of forgetting to turn off the lights finally clicking. Natasha smiled to herself, realizing you’d really been working on being better about that.
Suddenly, the tired Widow noticed something—or someone hiding behind the couch. The intruder’s hat stuck up just enough for her to spot it, even in the low lighting. Natasha’s heart dropped, her regret about leaving you alone for this long quickly surfacing. Of course the intruder would utilize her being away to attack. Her steps slowed, the gun tucked in her bag easily being retrieved as she approached the mysterious figment with caution. Passing a light switch, she hastily flicked the overhead lights on to reveal the intruder.
But it wasn’t an intruder. It was a crocheted hat sitting on top of a pillow, among dozens of other meticulously crocheted creations. Blankets, pillows, hats, bags, and even a new set of coasters all made out of yarn—now all sprawled out across the living room. She sighed, putting her gun back in its respective spot. The feeling of guilt replaced her worry, knowing you were probably desperate to fill her absence with something else.
To say you were beside yourself with worry while she was gone was an understatement. Usually, when you were stressed, Natasha would be at your side to offer comfort. But every time she’d go on a mission, you were forced to find a new coping skill. What if Natasha gets hurt? What if she gets kidnapped? What if she has to be away even longer? The ever-flowing fears would swirl your mind like a tornado the second Natasha would leave for a mission. Nothing truly provided relief, though certain crafts would soothe the ache slightly.
This time, you’d taken up crocheting. After watching numerous videos on it and taking a trip to the craft store, the projects basically finished themselves. The entire week of Natasha’s absence was spent crocheting, stitch after stitch, creation after creation, until the apartment could barely hold your collection anymore. As the redhead looked around the room, she noticed that you didn’t just stop with smaller decorations. The old red curtains were replaced, now displaying green yarn carefully stitched into a draping veil. The rug wasn’t tan and shaggy anymore, it was blue and soft—made by hand with yarn.
Natasha always felt bad when she had to go on a mission, but you both understood it was for the good of the country. On top of that, Natasha genuinely enjoyed the work she did, even if it meant risking her life; and who were you to stop her from doing what she loved? Yet she couldn’t help but chuckle when seeing all of your creations and the lengths you went to in order to cope with your anxiety. It was sweet, the fact you’d opt to keep yourself busy by nearly redecorating the entire living room.
She saw what the impact of her absence had done to you, and luckily it would be a while until her next long mission. Eventually, as the Widow steadied her heart rate, she quietly headed into the bedroom to get ready for bed. Expecting to see your figure under the covers, she was surprised by something else entirely.
At this point, she shouldn’t have been surprised. You were there, hooking your crochet needles around a new creation in the dim lighting of the lamp. The blanket keeping you warm wasn’t the old blue duvet that was there a week ago; it was a pink crocheted comforter. Usually the other side of the bed was left empty in Natasha’s stead, but not anymore. Laying there was a box full to the brim of hand-made stuffed animals. The grin that filled the redhead’s entire face was priceless.
“You’re home!” You exclaimed, forgetting all about your project as you jumped up and hugged your girlfriend. Natasha laughed softly, her eyes lingering on your creations for an extra moment as she held you tightly.
“I missed you so much, love. But it looks like you’ve replaced me…” It was your turn to laugh, now taking a long look around the room and recalling all the things you’d replaced.
“Oh, uh—yeah. I missed you so much, I got a little carried away.” You admitted, pulling away to look her in the eyes. She brushed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, taking in your presence after a week of missing it dearly. Your eyes glimmered with that familiar passion, something Natasha could never get enough of.
Eventually, she guided you back to bed, changing into pajamas herself. “It’s alright, I don’t mind a change of decor. But did you have to make our comforter pink?” The two of you laughed, eyes staying glued to one another—almost like you couldn’t believe she was actually home. After what felt like ages, Natasha headed to her side of the bed. “Are these for me?” Her voice turned soft when she noticed just how many stuffed animals you created for her.
“Yeah, I’m working on a second box of them now.” Sure enough, there was an identical box nearly full of even more stuffed animals. Natasha chuckled, moving the box to her nightstand as she got under the covers next to you. You wasted no time leaning up against her, your head fitting perfectly in the crook of her neck.
“Thank you, baby. I love you so much, you know that, right?” She questioned, snuggling up beside you. You missed having her next to you—her side of the bed remained cold for too many nights. Although the new creations crowded your safe space, having Natasha there beside you made it feel right. The stuffed animals and crocheted housewares provided you with a sense of comfort, but not nearly as much as Natasha ever could.
“I know, I love you too. I wouldn’t have crocheted an army of stuffed animals if I didn’t.” You smiled, letting Natasha pull you in closer before the two of you fell into a deep sleep, finally safe in each other’s arms.
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What Do You Get the Man Who Has Everything?
Homelander hates his birthday, fake pleasantries and gifts, but he loves his secret significant other. Homelander X GN Reader, 1.4K little drabble.
Ao3
---♡︎---
Cheers and applause ring out from the TV.
It’s Homelander’s birthday.
Even if it’s a day Vought handpicked for ultimate viewership, at the very least it’s still his day.
You’d watched the celebration cross-legged in front of the TV, taking in every detail of his expression. It was dark now, of course. Normally he would’ve snuck off to your apartment by now, but these were peak viewership hours. Your heart clenched, trying to will some semblance of happiness into him across the city, wishing you could tell him he wasn’t alone.
He knew you were watching. His little secret he kept hidden away, tucked inside an unsuspecting apartment in Manhattan.
He’d smile, wave, and say his little lines like the good poster boy he was. Well, until he could sneak away to his little slice of heaven and get away from it all.
You tied off the last bit of yarn in your nimble fingers. It was plush and soft.
The little stuffed eagle you’d been pouring your heart into momentarily blocked your line of sight of the TV as you held its delicate body in front of your eyes.
What do you get the man who has everything at his fingertips, and nothing at the same time?
Do you get him something one of his assistants could bring him in a second? Soap or cologne he’d only pretend to like? Another nonsensical book he wouldn’t really read? There wasn't any good options, nothing truly heartfelt.
It took weeks to crochet, and learning how to do it was no easy feat.
“Thank you again, everyone, for the birthday wishes! But I want all of you to remember—you're the real heroes!”
Your eyes glanced behind the plush creature you’d made to the TV.
His eyes were sad even though he smiled so brightly.
He hated today; he always did. But it was attention, and he’d take it, even if it only rubbed salt farther into his wounds.
Never knowing his real birthday, and never getting to have a genuine, sincere celebration made it hard to put on a fake one.
It was his first one since he’d taken a liking to you, and you’d fix that. Looking back on all the stupid televised celebrations they'd put on for him for years, it made you sick thinking about how truly alone he must've felt all those years before you'd met him.
You sighed as you grabbed the doll needle, threading it with ease. It slid past the soft yarn like nothing and hooked through the little black eyes you’d picked out. You worked gingerly, love in each stitch.
The little crochet eagle came to life in your hands.
His charismatic voice brought the show back to the forefront of your mind. “-Goodnight everyone!” He fake smiled and waved as he finally walked off stage, but it quickly turned into a scowl just before the camera panned back to center.
Yep. That guy was totally fired.
You hugged the little eagle close to your chest as you stood, smiling quietly to yourself.
It fit inside the little box you’d picked out snuggly.
You set the package on the little table in front of the couch, turning to fluff the pillows and blankets you’d set out to make the night as comfortable as possible.
The program behind you switched to Cameron Coleman. Homelander’s birthday special was officially over.
You absentmindedly turn off the TV off with a click.
It took a lot to keep your fluttering heart under control. Butterflies.
He’d be home soon; his real home.
This wasn’t somewhere he had to be someone else. It took a long time to get it through to him, but he didn’t put the fake smile on for you anymore. He came to you vulnerable, jealous, angry. It didn't matter if he was soaked in blood or soaked from the rain, you’d always understand.
The unmistakable ruffle of his cape caught your attention. You looked up just as his red boots graced the concrete balcony on the other side of the glass.
He was smiling, but those blue eyes of his were still sad.
You hurried over to the door, you’d fix that.
The dull throb in his chest eased as he smiled back at you earnestly.
You smiled brightly as you flung the door open, grabbing his hand and dragging him inside the little sanctuary you loved sharing with him. “Happy Birthday!”
The weight of the world left his shoulders as he crossed the threshold, letting you drag him along.
He always loved your forwardness about things.
You gave him understanding eyes as you led him over to the soft space you’d made for him. “How was it? Did you have fun today?”
“You know it’s not really for me.” He sighed as he gathered his cape to the side and sat down. It really wasn’t, none of it was.
You smiled, gently cupping his face for a moment to gaze into his eyes. “I know, I know.”
The rest of the world would never see the suffering he hid so carefully. He’d shown his pain and loneliness to you alone, the only one who’d ever hold him like this. He loved attention, but the care and compassion you always showed him was beyond any of that. For you, he was a gentle giant, pliant in your hands.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as your fingertips left his jaw, moving to grab the little gift from the table to lighten things up a little. “But I am! Aaaaaand-” You held the modest box out happily. “So is this!”
He smiled genuinely. You’d even lined the box with cheap sheets of zinc. Good thinking.
“Why are you so nervous?” He chuckled as he took the fragile thing in his hands, setting it in his lap.
Of course he could tell; he could read people better than they could read themselves.
You sighed as you sat down beside him. “I just really hope you like it.”
He scoffed. “You don’t have to be nervous! I’ll love it. And the zinc—now that was a good touch. I haven’t gotten a surprise gift like this since... well, that wasn’t exactly a gift."
His thoughts would go anywhere but where either of you wanted them to.
“Stop thinking! Open it!” You gestured to the box with a laugh, glancing back and forth between his expression and the box excitedly.
Your heart beating faster in anticipation was music to his ears.
He’d play nice and give you what you wanted. Besides, he wanted to know why on earth you could possibly be so nervous about something so trivial.
He lifted the little cardboard lid, the little box slipping out from underneath it and landing back down in his lap ceremoniously.
A little pair of black eyes stared back up at him.
Your little heart was pattering away like a rabbit as you waited for his reaction.
He scrunched his brows and smirked, gently pulling the little guy from the box and holding it awkwardly, turning it in his hands. “Where’d you get this little guy?”
You shifted a bit, twiddling with your thumbs. “I made it for you.”
He paused for a moment, still holding it out in front of him.
“You—you made this?” He smiled, looking over the bundle of soft yarn and stuffing with a newfound appreciation as he looked over the loops of yarn.
You nodded happily.
His eyes weren’t so sad, but he still seemed wary. “You really made this just for me?”
You laughed as you nodded again. He always needed reassurance, but you were always ready to give. Your heart wasn’t hammering anymore, just beating sweetly as you looked at him with those caring eyes like always. “Just for you. Do you like it?”
He seemed so taken aback it was almost funny.
“Like it? I love it! I-I don’t even know what to say. This is… perfect.” He smiled as his eyes finally met yours. He’d never had a stuffed animal, let alone one so special. “Thank you.”
You smiled ear to ear as you practically jumped on him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. “I’m so happy you love it so much!”
He laughed lightheartedly. “This is the best gift I think I’ve ever been given.”
You laughed sweetly, snuggling against him just a little tighter.
He leaned back, pulling you against him with one arm and holding the little stuffed eagle protectively in the other, matching your genuine smile as you both relaxed into the couch.
“I’ll cherish it forever. Just like you.”
#i usually don't post my writing like this tell me if i did it wrong#It being Antony's birthday put me in birthday mode#homelander x reader#homelander#the boys fanfic#the boys
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Rise August: Secrets
Story included under cut!!!
Draxum was in his apartment sorting through a box of old potions and scrolls and loose mystical items left over from when his lab was destroyed for the third time, during the Shredder's invasion. He'd been putting this off for far too long. Amidst the chaos of his collection, there were medical files on his past experiments, DNA samples of the turtles, a couple ancient relics he'd managed to keep ahold of during the whole 'banished from the Hidden City' fiasco, and... a doll. Small, scorched, threads and yarn coming loose from where time had worn them out. It was a small item, inconsequential upon first glance. But it was possibly the most precious possession Draxum owned, if only because it was the last reminder he had of a former life. The doll, stitched and crocheted with care, resembled a miniature turtle. Draxum pressed the doll close to his chest as he'd done countless times before, holding it by his heart and silently praying to any god that would listen to him. And he sat, hoping his prayer would be answered, and a single message could be relayed to the spirit of the one who'd made the doll for him all those years ago.
He was so sorry.
It was then that his phone began to buzz, bringing him back to the present. He tried ignoring it, but the infuriating noise continued.
BZZZ. BZZZ. BZZZ.
He growled, admitting defeat in the battle of wills against the irritating little machine, and picked it up. Leonardo was calling. Had BEEN calling him repeatedly. Along with Michelangelo, who'd called a total of three times within the last minute and a half. Hmm, odd. Donatello had called once, too. What could they want? It wasn't a training evening, or one of those cumbersome 'family bonding nights'. But it must be important if they were willing to call SIX TIMES IN A ROW. He cautiously pressed the little green button.
"Baron Draxum speaking--"
"WERE YOU GOING TO TELL US THAT WE HAD SECRET SIBLINGS?! OR WERE WE JUST SUPPOSED TO LEARN THAT ON OUR OWN?!"
Draxum pulled his ear away, flinching at the noise. It was Leonardo, all right.
"What?" Draxum groaned, trying to combat the sudden deafness he just received in his left ear. "What is going on--"
"Dad just told us about our secret SISTER and secret BROTHER!" Leo yelled again. "Did you ever plan on bringing this up?! Where will the secrets END with our family?! Do you have ANYTHING TO SAY?!"
Draxum grumbled angrily.
"That conniving actor... I can't believe he..." How dare that former action star spill all his secrets without telling him he even KNEW those secrets! How did he find out?! "Put the rat on," he demanded. "I will discuss this breach of trust with him."
"I..." silence. "....I can't."
"Why not?" Draxum asked, noticing the sudden change in Leonardo's voice.
The mutant slider turtle took a good long while to answer. In the background, Draxum could make out the sounds of weeping and wailing. Michelangelo. He'd recognize the youngest's voice anywhere. Leo's breaths were shaky as he struggled to string together a sentence.
"...Draxum... Dad can't... he isn't...." a pause, a deep inhale. "He... he's dead," Leo whispered hoarsely. "He died half an hour ago."
Dead...?
Barry knew the rat was old and weak, and had been growing sick... but... And he'd told them. On his deathbed. He'd planned this, a dramatic reveal for the king of drama. One last spiteful incursion against the great Baron Draxum. He'd told the boys about their 'secret siblings'. How could he have known?? How did he ever find out? The how and why hardly mattered now. He'd told them. And... it was about time they knew.
"...I'll be there in fifteen minutes," Draxum stated before hanging up abruptly.
Baron Draxum spent the first five minutes just standing in the middle of the room. Thinking. Contemplating. This was going to be a very difficult conversation. For a multitude of reasons. Draxum spent the next five minutes gathering all the supplies he would need. Reports on the mutagen and ooze. Scans of the experiments. DNA samples, tests, any information on the two subjects he had left. Receipts of their existence. Proof.
The doll, the last remnant and possession of the most precious thing he'd ever lost.
And then Draxum spent the last five minutes rehearsing. Going over every little detail and thinking the history through. He could guess what they would say, what they'd ask, and how they'd react. There was no way he was ready for this.
His fifteen minutes were up. It was time to go.
Draxum stood stone still, arms full of documents, in the center of his apartment.
It was now twenty minutes. Draxum opened a magenta portal and stepped through.
The lair was darker than usual. And quiet. Usually there were string lights and neon signs illuminating the halls, but they'd been turned off. And there was always something playing in the background, a tune from the radio or a movie left on in the living room. But it was eerily silent, apart from the sound of people crying. Draxum followed the sounds of grief into the living room, Splinter's favourite space. It was dimly lit by candles, a scene of mourning like something from a film. Of course, that was how he'd want to go out. Dramatically.
The children were all surrounding his favourite armchair, Leonardo standing at a distance and tapping his foot impatiently as he stood guard over the room. Donatello was sitting in a corner, looking unsure of how to feel, or how to process what he was feeling. Michelangelo was sobbing in Raphael's lap, crying uncontrollably into his shoulder as the eldest rocked him back and forth, trying to comfort the youngest while also holding back his own tears in an attempt at false bravery. April O'Neil -- who was also here, among others -- had taken the initiative to drape a long white sheet over the body, out of respect.
Seeing this... seeing the outline of Splinter's body laying still... the scene became all too real all at once, and Draxum's planning and pre-prepared speeches were lost in the realization. His sons just lost the man they called 'father'. The person they loved most in life. And now, he was all they had left. And that terrified him.
"You're late," Leo growled, turning to look the sheep man in the eyes.
"Apologies," Draxum sighed. "I needed to prepare. Sit down, I'll try to explain it all."
Leo and April gathered the rest of the family into the kitchen, where Draxum began to pass out the papers and documentation.
"Okay, Draxum," Leo spat, sitting himself down at the table. "TALK. What did Dad mean by a secret sister and secret brother?"
Draxum inhaled deeply, readied himself, and began.
"You DO have a brother and sister. That is true."
"Why didn't you ever tell us?" Mikey asked, voice wet and wobbly from crying. "Why didn't Splinter??"
"I can't say why the rat --" he paused, cleared his throat. They dead deserved more respect than that. "...Why Splinter didn't tell you beforehand. I didn't even know he knew. But I hadn't told you because I saw no reason to."
"No reason?!" Donatello gawked. "They're our secret family members!"
"Yeah, do you have ANY IDEA how many family members we have?!" Leo added. "Zero! And now we have two?! This is kind of a BIG DEAL, BARRY!"
"Technically, we always had two secret family members but --"
"Not the time for grammatical correction, Dee."
"Would you allow me to continue?" Draxum yelled over the argumentative boys.
The room fell silent.
"Thank you. The main reason I never told you was... because they are... dead."
Leo's hands, which had been folded together and holding his chin up, fell to his sides as his eyes widened.
"Dead? How?"
"It's a long story," Draxum began, taking one of the many sheets and passing it around the table. "When you were first mutated, I also mutated a fifth turtle, though she was contained in a separate tank. During the destruction of my lab, I managed to escape with her while your father escaped with you. Three years later, with my lab restored, I began my research again and decided to try mutating a sixth turtle."
"Our... brother?" Raph asked, pretending to read a sheet full of medical notes and toxicology readings he didn't understand at all.
"Yes," Draxum nodded. "Though, technically, he is your half-brother."
"How does that work?" Mikey asked.
"I didn't have any DNA remnants of Lou Jitsu left, so I had to find the next best warrior to use," Draxum explained, gesturing to himself. "So I used my own DNA for the recreated formula. I called the two turtles Venus De Milo and Machiavelli."
"But what happened to them?" Mikey asked nervously. "How did they..."
Draxum cleared his throat as he went over the old memories. Even after all these years, they still hurt.
"I was not in the good graces of the public. The Council of Heads disapproved of my illegal genetic experimentations, and as such my work was in danger. The two experiments were in danger. That was when Big Mama showed up."
"Of course she did!" Leo groaned, throwing his hands in the air. "That woman! Pizza supreme, I swear she preys on opportunity like... like a... like a creature that prowls or... something..."
"Do you mind if I go on?" Draxum growled. "As I was saying, she promised to help smooth things over with the council and the public eye if I let her take custody for one of the experiments."
"Why would she want that?" Donnie wondered as he looked over Venus' paperwork. "And why would you agree?
"She said that if she were to truly be in league with me, she'd need an equal share of the project. She argued that it would only solidify her standing with me and make us equal partners with equal footing. And an equal portion of responsibility and investment in the project. And I had no choice, I needed her sway with the community. She took Venus from me, and I never saw her again. Big Mama was only meant to keep her for three years, but when the time came she told me that Venus had died from complications due to the mutation."
"Was that true?" Raph asked.
"I don't know, I never found out. If it was false, Big Mama made her virtually invisible. I've no idea of what became of Venus. But after that, I became far more protective of Machiavelli. I trained him, schooled him, kept him safe from prying eyes. And as time went on, he became very important to me. I was invested in his wellbeing, and... and..."
Michelangelo perked up, seeing a familiar but rare side of Draxum show itself. A softened expression, a gentleness in his voice. A deep and harrowed regret.
"You... you loved him, didn't you?" the box shell turtle asked. "He became like a son to you, didn't he?"
Draxum nodded sadly.
"But I was a warmongering fool back then. Afraid and angry, I projected my frustrations out onto Machiavelli. I tried to mold him into a warrior, but he... he wasn't like that, he was kind and... you all would have liked him." Draxum smiled, turning to look at each of the boys. "He was creative, smart, loved playing games and making jokes... And despite my ignorance, he saw me as a father."
Leo glanced from a sheet containing science-y mumbo-jumbo back to the disgraced baron. He looked so old, so tired. In his hands, he clutched a secret and sacred doll. Leo's gaze rose from the hidden treasure back up to Draxum's face, which was clouded over with old grief.
"What happened to him, Barry?" Leo asked cautiously. "What happened to Machiavelli?"
Draxum squeezed the handmade doll. His brow furrowed, his jaw hardened. His voice was low as he forced the words out.
"...It was a few years ago. One night, we had an argument over training. I don't remember exactly what was said, only that we fought over his purpose. I was adamant that his destiny was to be a soldier, nothing more, and I said as much. I told him we'd discuss it further in the morning. But that night... the lab... there was an explosion, and... his bedroom was right beneath... he didn't make it out."
The room was silent. Draxum sat, twiddling his thumbs as he thought of his son's face. There were no pictures, no images, no drawings left to depict him. Only this doll, made in his image as a gift for his father. But he didn't need any reminders. He remembered him perfectly. He remembered it all.
"...How long ago was this?" Donatello asked.
"...Almost three years ago, by now," Draxum whispered.
"An explosion in your lab that occured over two years ago," Donnie repeated. "This... this wouldn't have happened to be during a stand-off between you and four mutant turtles, would it?"
Draxum stayed silent. He knew this was coming. Hence why he never brought it up. He felt every eye on him. He couldn't answer. Yet they needed one. He slowly nodded.
"...So it was... our fault?" Raph asked, voice low and hushed. "The lab explosion we caused... it was because of us he died?"
"No," Draxum assured them, finally looking up. "It was my fault. If I had not been so stubborn and had let go of my irrational hatred of the humans, none of that would have happened. I would never had created the oozesquitos, nor kidnapped the agent Mayhem, and none of the events that followed would have come about. It was not your fault. It was only mine."
Mikey stood up and rushed over to Draxum's side, wrapping his arms around him and crying into his robe.
"I'm sorry," Mikey whimpered. "I'm sorry that happened..."
"And I am sorry I did not tell you about your sister and half-brother sooner," Draxum sighed. "I wasn't sure how to bring it up. And... I was not ready to reopen old wounds."
"I guess it's okay," Leo grumbled, waving his hand at Draxum. "I'm glad you told us now, at least."
"It would have been cool to have more siblings, though," Raph smiled. "I wonder if I'd still be oldest..."
"According to these, 'Venus' was older than you," Donatello read aloud. "And Machiavelli was born three years after our mutation--"
"Wait, this means I have a younger brother?! I'm not the youngest??" Mikey exclaimed.
"You're still the youngest, Mikey," Donnie explained.
"Nuts."
"This might be a dumb question, but are you sure that they're dead?" Leo asked, scanning the sheets over again. "I mean, plot twists seem to be a running theme in our family. Could they still be alive?"
"It's possible that Venus might be alive," Draxum shrugged. "Big Mama is nothing if not a swindler and a liar."
"What about Machiavelli?" Mikey wondered. "Could he have made it out?"
"I don't see how," Draxum answered dejectedly. "I barely made it out alive. With no warning, and his room directly underneath... no. If he had survived, I would have found him by now. And... it's too late. Three years have weathered away any hope I had."
"You never know," Mikey offered. "I mean... it's possible, right?"
Baron Draxum knew this was a vain hope, one he didn't have the strength to allow any indulgence in.
"I do not wish to give myself false hope for what I know to be a fantasy," Draxum scolded. "But..."
But... he could hope, nonetheless. And perhaps one day, he really would see his son once more.
@sariphantom
(While I don't actually accept the whole Splinter's death from the anniversary comic as canon, I only accept it in this AU universe because it allows for Draxum to finally tell his kids about his other kids)
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise august 2024#rise august art challenge#rise august#secrets#tutant meenage neetle teetles#rottmnt fanart#rottmnt au#rottmnt baron draxum#rottmnt draxum#velcro duo#velcro au#short story
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Hello! After having some time to get over my loss for the Pokemon TCG Illustration contest, I decided to write up a small blog entry about the process and include some WIP pictures. Feel free to look below if you want to read my ramblings on the process.
Idea Generarion-
So coming into this contest, I knew I wanted to make a mixed media piece. In terms of theming I chose something that not only reflected a “magical moment” for a Pokemon (in this case meeting a legendary Pokemon), but also a moment when playing the games myself. In fact this piece was inspired by my awe when I first encountered a box legendary in game, as before I thought my teacher was lying to me when he said you can catch the legendary on the box!
This is the concept sketch that started it all! At the time my main concern was getting ideas down and seeing how they looked. Thinking about things like how would the composition would look, how would the colours look. So on and so forth.
I didn’t want to focus too much on the sketch and wanted to start making the physical object, so out of some cheap paper I started making a set up testing out size, scale, composition. I didn’t want to get too attached to the original sketches only to realise I couldn’t make it in real life… I went though a few drafts trying to get things right, slowly adding in aspects such as background objects and higher quality drawings.
After completing the draft I bought the images back into procreate to experiment with colours. This is the point where I made the mistake of thinking I had plenty of colours to choose from, not realising I would be limited by what I could buy from various yarn shops. That or hope I could find the right colour online, but that was always a gamble. If I don’t stop talking about this now I’ll get sidetracked talking about how much I miss yarn shops…
Anyways, I cut out the individual pieces that I would make within the background and used them as a guide for crochet assets. For this part I wanted to use different stitches to create textures such as the ripple stitch, bobble stich and some cable stitches, I feel bad as I never took any work in progress photo so of them. Let’s pretend you’re looking at a photo of a half finished crochet abstract shape.
Finally onto the main event, the Pikachu (and Suicune). The decision to make Pikachu a plush was based on what I would have liked to make for the 2022 illustration contest (if I wasn’t geographically challenged!!) Despite being British I decided it would be fun to make anyways, so I could experiment. I never got around to that but decided it would be fun to try for this edition.
Making the pattern was HARD! As I wanted Pikachu to have a unique pose, I had to work out different methods to plush i’ve made in the past which have been somewhat relaxed in their posing. I ultimately ended up making each part individually, pinning it together and then making adjustments as needed. It didn’t start out great however I ended up with this weird Pikachu shaped thing that did the job. Throughout this process I would regularly photograph it in the background to try and catch any issues early on. For example if the ground needed to be a different shape.
Photographing the final price was interesting. I felt bad for my partner as I essentially turned my dining table into a mini photography studio! I spent several days waiting for different lighting opportunities and experimenting with different light. Marking down different camera angles to ensure I have all of my bases covered. I easily took over 100 photos to get the perfect shot! In the below photo you can see washi tape being used to rest out different positions for the sculptures.
And that leads me to the peice! Even though i’m sad I didn’t make the top 300, I am pleased with the work I did for this piece (and my flygon entry too!). I’m glad I decided to experiment with ts peice and look forward to refining my methods in the near future!
#pikachu#ptcgic2024#ptcg contest#Plush#Pokemon#pokemon plushie#pokemon plush#pokemon illustration#crochet#electric type#Gen 1#creative#pokemon art#katart#katblog#katplush
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#crochetcraftscraps#crochet#yarn#free patterns#crochet pattern#love crochet#free crochet pattern#crochet cat#boxstitch
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i know capitalism is trying to suck every last bit of money out of every last one of us and that war/civil unrest is happening everywere all the time every second of every day but you know what else.
im gonna cook and paint and maybe finish my verson of a stitched quilt blanket thing i saw at target for too much money that i liked the texture but hatted that it was like 100+ dollars for a white comforter with black stitching all down it.
i made the same one out of 2 cotton sheets my grandma had and i got rainbow thread its 1/4 of the way done and everything is over priced and on fire but i got that beautifulthread from an estate sale that had ended and the queer man that ran it said he couldnt sell the old womans yarn and that i could have this ( 1) rainbow ream of thick thread if i would take all 6 boxes of yarn that that woman probaly had collected for years.
i gave the yarn to my mom and told her a nice man gave it to me and she said he probaly didnt want to see sit in his shop for ever and she was glad the womans collection would get used. im sure that woman would be happy to know even though shes gone theres kids that have hats for winter now. old people got blankets and my mom can crochet for free so she didnt mind one bit giving away nearly everything she made.
nothing is free and everything cost money and people die and are selfish.
sometime tho it isnt ture and people arent and even if bad things happen I have a blanket and a hat. those things dont matter but what i feel about them does and no one can take that away from me.
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100 things to try
getting off the phone can be hard. i find that i’m only ever motivated to do it when there’s something else to do. so! here are those things, dollie.
hobbies:
collecting (figurines, blind boxes, vinyls, books…)
2. embroidery
3. thrift flips / diying clothes
4. jewelry making
5. kandi
6. collage making
7. painting
8. sketching
9. start an album list
10. thrifting
11. baking (w/o the box mix !!)
12. cooking
13. origami
14. doll customization
15. making stuffed animals
16. building models
17. clay sculpting
18. customizing shoes
19. dancing
20. yoga
21. pilates
22. singing
23. learn an instrument
24. skating (skateboard, roller skating/blading, ice skating)
25. biking
26. hiking
27. jogging/running
28. doing nails
29. doing hair
30. building costumes/cosplays
31. soapmaking
32. play dnd
33. writing
34. poetry
35. web design
36. character design
37. graphic design
38. font design
39. make short films
40. make bath bombs
41. start tutoring people
42. join a new club
43. start a book club w/ friends
44. read a play
45. write a play
46. go see a play (support small theatres!!! wooh)
47. journaling
48. programming
49. design clothes
50. crochet
halfway through… ps, if you’ve had the energy to scroll this, you have the energy to start one. pick your battles!
51. knitting
52. cross stitch
53. beading
54. learn solitaire
55. typing
56. learn cursive
57. start learning a language
58. make a dreamcatcher
59. start making smoothies
60. take cute notes
61. photography
62. climb a tree!!!
63. swimming
64. press flowers
65. get a pen pal
66. make tea (the nice kind)
67. make coffee (same as above)
68. make bookmarts
69. annotate books
70. jigsaw puzzles
71. crosswords
72. sudokus
73. word searches
74. quilting
75. make perfume
76. make lightboxes
77. skincare
78. making jams
79. whittling
80. carpentry
91. tie dye
92. archery
93. axe throwing
94. martial arts
95. making ornaments
96. music writing
97. terrariums
98. gardening
99. scrapbooking
100. pottery
#study blog#wonyoungism#hobbies#pink pilates princess#it girl#that girl#self care#self improvement#well being#it girl lifestyle#it girl tips#self healing#glow up#lifeblr#advice#cosmo txt
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Want to participate in Marvel Trumps Hate, but don't know what to offer? Think outside the box!
Stumped on what to offer because you don't write fic or draw? Marvel Trumps Hate welcomes a huge variety of fanworks and fan labor (see our sign-up post), so there are different ways you can contribute. You'll be amazed by the breadth of skills, talents, knowledge, and types of creative expression found in fandom!
Here's a smorgasbord of offers that we've either had before or seen people discuss as possibilities for MTH 2024 or future years to help inspire you. What you can offer is not restricted to the list below; these are just examples to get you brainstorming about what you can auction off because trust us, even if you think you might not have something to offer, you probably do!
ART (VISUAL/ILLUSTRATIVE)
Drawings/illustrations
Single-page and multi-page comics
Pixel art
Paintings (oil, acrylic, gouache, watercolor)
Mixed-media artwork on canvas
Ink-on-bristol art
Embroidery on canvas
Pour paint/spin art
Rotoscopes
Digital coloring books
AUDIOVISUAL WORKS
Fan music or filk inspired by characters, ships, or fics
Podfics
Videos (fic trailers, themed edits, vids set to songs)
Animations (making original art/animation or turning existing art into animation)
BETA SERVICES
Editing
Cheer reading
Soundboarding/planning/development work
Fact-checking
Culture-picking
Sensitivity reading
Knowledge about specific topics or experiences (e.g., identities, lifestyles, professions, interests, fields of study)
Research
CRAFTS & MERCH
Candles
Lip balms
Soaps
Stained glass/suncatcher
Scented beanbag-style sachets
Candy/chocolate/baked goods/jellies/sweets
Fic/character/ship/theme boxes (like book boxes)
Pins, magnets, patches, charms, standees, key chains, ring holders, calendars, stickers, bookmarks, temporary tattoos
Sculptures and clay figures
Ceramic mugs and other ceramic items
Apparel/wearable accessories (shirts, jackets, scarves, gloves/mittens, hats, face masks, regular masks, cowls, pajamas/onesies)
Backpacks, tote bags, itabags with custom window shapes, leather dice bags, wallets, pouches/pencil cases
Plushie animal or Tsum Tsum versions of Marvel characters
Dolls (crochet, needle felt, matte board, hand-sewn)
Embroidery hoops/wall art and cross stitch pieces
Jewelry (diamond painting, macrame, metal, crochet, wire, beads)
Woodwork/wood burning (cheese board, box/chest, USB stick, coasters, photo frame, alphabet blocks)
Glasswork
Custom Funko Pops
Paper cut light boxes
Pillow cases, quilted pillows, baby blankets, dishcloth/washcloths, potholders
Handmade leather journals
Linoleum stamps
Dog/cat/pet toys
Artbooks, paper doll books, and coloring books
Hand-dyed yarn skeins
Custom tea blends
DIGITAL (GRAPHIC DESIGN)
Gifsets
Graphics/edits
Mood boards
Photo manips
Fic covers/posters/banners
Icons and headers
Webweaving
Tumblr or website layouts
Digital calendars
Wallpapers
Custom Discord emojis
FAN LABOR & TRANSLATION
Typesetting
Bookbinding
Recipes based on characters, ships, or themes
Names, tags, and summaries for fics
Audio/sound editing and/or soundscaping for podfics
Book cover design and printing
Art/comic/fic translation
Website/game/AO3 skin coding
Fic rec lists
Fic playlists/fanmixes
Knitting/crochet patterns
Art coaching
Help with launching and organizing fan events
WRITING
Fic
Poetry
Meta posts
Social media AUs
Physical letters written by characters to the reader or between two characters
Remixes of your fic or an existing fic with the author's permission
Whether you can do something on this list or something else altogether (we're sure there are a lot of other things that you can do that we haven't thought about or seen before), we hope you'll consider signing up before the deadline: September 28, 11:59 PM ET.
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Gotchu!
Synopsis: YN pranks Harry after he's returned home from the gym
Idea courtesy to @vrittivsanghavi
Series Masterlist | More of my work
It was a day off for YN, so she decided to spend it at home.
She has been making a crochet bag for her mother-in-law for her birthday which was coming up soon. She cosied up on the sofa with a cup of tea with a rerun of her favourite show on, taking in some alone time. She had dropped off Milo to the vet for his checkup, surgery and vaccine updates this morning, he's due pick up in the evening. And she went grocery shopping for few things she needs to try out this new baking recipe.
Though Harry will be home soon, he had to rush to a quick meeting and then he went to the gym for a little. He came home way too soon.
YN heard the door open and close as Harry walked in dressed in his workout clothes and cup of coffee in his hand. His tote bag hung over his shoulder.
"Hey baby." He smiled at her, "I'm just gonna go take a shower real quick and be with you, yeah?"
"Hi, yes of course." YN nodded, and sat there starting on her new project.
Anne loved one of YN's bag she made and wore on one of their girls day out, since then YN's been wanting to make one for her. Her birthday was coming up so it was the best occasion to take advantage of. Gift giving is really nit her thing, so this was a golden opportunity for her there.
Harry's been jealous. He wants one too but he steals her bag everytime so he doesn't really know how to ask for one. He felt stupid. But at the same time it warmed his heart to see how the women who raised him get along so well with the woman he fell in love with.
He's honestly got to up his game of birthday presents for his mum after this. It's always been his forte, but a handmade gift has special value to it to everyone.
YN had been asking him what colour he thinks his mum would like the bag to be. It was a tricky choice to make without letting Anne can not know about this. It is a surprise.
"It's coming along right?" Harry asked he sat next to her, freshly showered and shirtless with droplets of water still shining on his shoulders and chest. YN rught away snuggled to his side.
"This is the last square for the bag." She said as she continued to crochet.
"That colour looks very pretty by the way." He added.
"Yeah? I'm making you one too." She beamed at him in excitement, "you can take this one and I'll give Mummy Anne the other one."
"Oh, thank you love." He chuckled watching her go back to do her thing, "I've been wanting to ask you to make ine for me, but didn't wanted to bother you."
"Please, you're never a bother to me." She rolled her eyes.
"Yeah--" Harry realised something, "baby, where's Milo? He's usually attacking my feet by now." Harry asked looking around.
YN was too busy counting up the stitches on the crochet piece, or was she? Actually she was cooking a plan to prank him in that moment. She's the bored okay!
"He's in the Man Cave you built you or he must asleep in some nook." She shrugged, which had Harry immediately jumping up to go look for their fur baby.
"Did he eat McFish--" he checked the aquarium but the fish was the swimming around with the secure lid still on. "No, baby, did he fell into toilet bowl again?"
"You just came from the bathroom, didn't you see?" YN called from him as he frantically ran to their only bathroom to check.
Milo was just learning to adjust to the closed litter box, which was kept in the bathroom obviously and being the cat he is, he jumped on the box and accidentally falling into the toilet bowl. It was his fault that he didn't closed the lid.
YN had to bathe him twice after that, because well he doesn't let Harry give him the baths. Yeah, he's that spoilt. But Harry still loves him, he's just grown to bond with Milo. Even though the kitten always tries to trip and make him fall the best he could, or when he just attacks his dad's toes for no apparent reason. No, no, he doesn't do that to his mum, he's in fact very cuddly and sweet with her. Well, occasionally the cat likes to cuddle with Harry but that's very rare. That doesn't change the fact he loves that cat to bits.
"He's not there." He announced, "baby can you please put that down? We can find the cat!"
"Check in his man cave, dude!" She tried to break out laughing the best she could, acting nonchalant as Milo does like to be on his own sometimes.
Harry walked upto the little-- well it's not very little box fixed seven feet above the ground for Milo to sit in and rule over his kingdom along with wooden steps and comfiest bedding inside. The cat even sleeps in it at night. Harry had it custom made for just him, with facy ass design and his name plate on the front. Harry called it: Milo's Man Cave.
News flash, Milo isn't in his man cave.
"We have the balcony all netted and shit, where is he?" Harry was stressing out now. "Did you leave the door open by any chance?"
"Uhhh, no..." YN tried to act like she is not very sure and surprisingly it worked.
"Baby, no don't fuck with me like that!" Harry gasped as he ran into the bedroom to grab a shirt. He was soon heading out the door to check but YN's phone started ringing so he stopped thinking someone might have found him. He's microchipped, and got a collar with his name YN's number on it (not his for his privacy and as a prevention from getting his number leaks). He was teary eyed by now.
"Hello Ms. YLN, this is Amy from Medivet. How are you doing today?" The girl on the line spoke.
Now YN doesn't have her phone on speaker but Harry could hear the girl speaking through. It was Milo's vet. But he's still anxious.
"Hello, I'm good, thanks and you?" YN said politely.
"I'm doing fine. I've called you to let you that Milo is ready to be taken home, so you can come pick him up." The girl sounded very upbeat.
Harry immediately pulled out his phone to check, it was Milo's appointment day and his turn to tak him there. Fuck did she just pranked him?
"Yeah, I'll come pick him up in fifteen. Thank you, Amy." YN spoke before the girl was bidding her bye and hanging up.
"That was not good." He sniffled as he went on to grab his car keys with a puppy face on.
"Harry, I'm sorry!" She cooed rushing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"
"Got anxious!" He sighed, "he's just too little."
"I know, I'm sorry, don't cry please." She tried to hug him.
"God my heart in beating fast," he sat down on the dining table chair.
"Hey, I'm sorry I was just trying to prank you." She felt embarassing now as she now hugged him. With her hand rested on his chest she could really feel how fast his heart was beating then which made her feel even more mad and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Hazza."
"Just don't." He gently pushed her away. "This isn't funny, YN."
"I'm sorry." She repeated herself, now with her own eyes getting teary and a puppy face on she stood there in the corner.
Now, Harry doesn't usually get upset. He's just that caring and understanding but when he rarely does, he gets really badly upset. This seemed to be one of those rare times and he used her first name in ages. She just grabbed her car keys and slipped on her slippers to go pick up the baby.
"Hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding!" He rushed to pull her back giggling, "gotchu!"
"God you little shit, can't just turn this around on me!" She whined now crying like a baby in defeat.
"Don't you cry now." He wiped off her tears, "not going to lie, you did get me until I heard Medivet. Got you back though." He seemed proud of himself as he tightly hugged her.
"No, go away!" She tried to push him off but he barely budged.
"I'm sorry." He mumbled.
"No, move, I have to pick him up." She now managed to pull away.
"Hey come on, this is not fair!" He whined, "well... Baby I'm sorry." He grabbed her face cooing as he placed sloppy wet kisses in her cheek and mouth. It took him a second to realise that. "You sit and relax, I will make the trip to get him."
"Okay." She nodded.
"Am I forgiven?" He asked, to double check.
"Am I?" She countered.
"Of course you are, my darling." He placed another kiss on her mouth and got one right back.
"You are too then." She finally smiled.
"Okay, bet back in thirty, yeah?" He placed a few more kisses on her face.
"Yeah." She nodded.
"I love you!" And she recieved another kiss.
"I love you too!" She reciprocated, "now go bring our son home."
"Yes, yes." He quickly put his shoes on before he was headed out, "oh, keys!"
"Here." She handed him her car key as she was holding it, with that he was heading out again.
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N O T E :
This is not how I intended it to go but dayummmm this is hilarious!!!!!! *cries"
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