#donnie is always my muse for vent

[lil-beanz000]

"Trying His Hardest."

[ducknotinarow]

( Harassing meme- for Raph 2k12 ) Do you resent any of your brothers? It's just you & Leo always seem to butt heads. Do you think you could have been the better leader?

| harass my muse

A low growl came out from the back of his throat he always felt like the blood in his veins started to burn when he grew annoyed and flustered like this during training sessions. Of course, as predictable as it was it lead to another blow up from Raph. Hollering at his brothers before he stormed out from the dojo and made his way out from the subway tunnels. He needed one air and to get away from the rest of them for a bit just long enough to work out his anger. Of course because it was always him that was the issue wasn’t it? Pushing the manhole cover back into place before he made his way around the empty alley found himself in there was a fire case so he could sneak to a roof here in a moment. For not though? He looked around finding all kind of trash scarred around the perfect thing to vent out his anger on.

Most of the discarded stuff was busted already but it helped to bust old brooms over his knee and toss empty glass bottles against brick walls eventually lifting the tin trash can on its own. Lifting it high above his head to only throw it as best her could. His mistake as it came right back his way and smack aginst him.

Flat out on his back as he looked up ringing in his head as he took time to wait for his skull to stop throbbing. When the words came to him.

Do you resent any of your brothers? It's just you & Leo always seem to butt heads. Do you think you could have been the better leader?

He furrowed up his forhead and quirked his beak to the side chewing that all over. "I don't resent them..." He didn't of course he didn't. "They just know how to make me mad. That's all Mikey's always messing around, Don's always calling me a baby and Leo." There was a pause as he laid on the ground. "Yeah I know I butt heads with him all the damn time I can't help it he just gets under my shell so easy!" He huffs moving his hands to rest onnthe ground as he starts moving to sit up now. "Mister perfect. Splinter Jr more like it. Dosent matter how many times I bear him in a match Leo's already seen as the better one. Better ninja, best choice for leader, better fighter, better mediator, better skills, better focus, better student the better brother the better son!" He began to list off the anger in his voice growing as he had listed each thing that crossed his mind. He didn't mean for the last bit to come out but it did. Closing his eyes tightly as he tried to clam himself down.

He heard it all the time his anger was an issue. His biggest flaw but he couldn't help it. "I know somethings wrong with me it always comes up...I don't know why...they all look at me like it so easy not to be...me. especially stupid Leo. It's like it all comes so easy for him and I just..." letting his fave drop into his hands a moment.

"I don't think I be a better leader, I've tried being leader and I almost lost Mikey and Donnie I froze up...I don't know how Leo can make those choices." Dragging his hands down his face as he sighs heavily. "I see it all the time dad looks at me doset matter hiw good a fighter I am ill always come short..." deep breath taken in "I thibk it be better if o was alone cause I don't think they need me."

[paulcatania]

HOLY FUCKING SHIT, TUMBLR?!?!?!

Dear Tumblr, I am so sorry for everything. Really. I am part of the problem.

First off, I am sorry for the #PornVibesStrong moment that Twitter ROBBED you of during and prior to the Trump Administration (and who knows, perhaps now). Didn't Trump shut you down? Something happened. I can't remember. But I know that wow, what a time. This time however? This is another time. A time which feels like no time or space are we existing. Just maybe. If anyone can understand what that means of feels like to think or say. The post Covid existence being this constant alternate universe, time warp fuckery I can't quite seem to pinpoint with a term defining. Listening to "Head Over Heels" right now by Tears For Fears feels appropriate. It just has that sound to it ya know. Especially when it shows up in Donnie Darko. OMG. DOES NOT THE POST COVID WORLD FEEL LIKE DONNIE DARKO???? I know this much. Wait hold on..... Ok I had to go and quickly skim the lyrics to that song as final line of the song played... "Funny how time flies....". It really is all connected.

I haven't written in forever. Not like this. Not through the vessel that is you dearest Tumblr. I have abandoned my original venting/creative space-preferred via the digital realm. It's all beyond a bit much; to say the least. As of this exact moment, trying to rid myself of the physical foot print being my last four years. A mental health decline in late 2018 where life didn't seem one worth living, yet still trucking through creative projects and feeling connected to "the muses" whoever they are. Entities undisclosed, yet carrying me. An overpowering of dark forces bringing me to feelings of wanting to simply NOT EXIST. I wouldn't say I was suicidal, but how many steps can we possibly be before thoughts turn transcend actions. So I kind of acquired an art gallery of my friends in the earlier months of 2019 which then turns into my quite literally manifested 2nd Hand Shop which I simply called "Paul's Closet". In this post Covid world I am left with what seems to be endless items now making up my brand name switch to a less than desireable to some "2nd Hand HoE". I know right. Who doesn't want to shop there?

2nd Hand HoE is a less than acceptably managed resale shop out of my office space in my hometown of Gloucester, MA. Yup. This is where I'm at. I mean it's not THAT bad. I'm working the sidewalk/vestibule/stairwell which leads to a second-level office building consisting of office space for commercial use. It's been a long and wild 3 years being back and forth between here and my apartment in Peabody just about 15 miles away. A shared space with my ex partner. The poor dude. Sorry Alex. Haha. Yeah, No. It was a great 3 years. A wild learning experience with a friend unlike any I'd ever had. Relationships can be intense. Cohabited relationships even more so if not the right time and place. And space. Hold this space my dear lover. Ugh I'm gonna shart my jorts. Honestly. I'm so lost. Like what am I doing. WAIT, I know....... DUH. I'm reintroducing myself into the strong relationship I once had with the Tumbz. I see you Tumbzi, and I know you see #metoo.

Anyhoozers, I was all up in my feelitos, and I don't even know what the fuck made me think of it but I was like, what should I do? Just sit here anal cav deep in my iPhone swiping between apps slash doom scrolling and being envious of others' shit???? NO. Ufck That dumb stuff. I need to recreate my life. Will I this time? Well, hope the fuck so. The universe will always work out the shit it needs to but I would like to be a little bit of a commander in this simulation as well. I mean that's only fair right? Most would say so. I have discipline issues. I'm afraid to take chances. I'm afraid of what everyone thinks of me. It's ridiculous. I hate the internet, and all these things I hate and am afraid of are the things I'm supposed to connect to and through to be anything worth anything in a capitalist world right? I don't even know what I'm saying right now. I just know that I need to speak or type or write or whatever the fahhhhhk is on my mind or else the wheels will turn and spin right off the track. Or shall we say, Tumbl off course.

of course.

[remmushound]

Are you my dad part 4, The White Spector

“There we are.” Splinter heaved Picassio into the air, the red hatchling giggling at his new garbs. A diaper meant for a premature baby was provided for him, as well as clothes with the backs cut out to make room for his carapace, and a hat to keep the warmth from escaping his hairless head. “Nice and clean.”

“He’s kinda cute for a baby.” April mused, going the pinch the hatchlings cheeks until she was almost bitten by the furious creature. “Got a little attitude to him too.”

“The best ones do.” Splinter’s eyes seemed almost wistful as he planted a kiss on Picassio’s head before handing him over to Raphael.

The hatchling immediately nuzzled into his father-figure, crawling up the length of Raphael’s shell to rest in the big divot between the skin of his neck just hidden behind his plastron. He could hear Raphael’s heartbeat that way, and it was the safest and warmest place on the giant snapper's body.

April stood up on her toes to be able to look in at the slumbering baby. “What species is he?”

“Spiny turtle.” Donatello answered, “Heosemys spinosa— endangered like me.”

“Aww, well ain’t he just the cutest little thing!” April cooed, “And it’s lucky you found him when you did! But shouldn’t you be trying to find out where he came from? And how he got in the Hidden City?”

“Current theory is a yokai trying to be nice but in way over their heads.” Donatello said.

“Then shouldn’t there be someone missing him?”

“Listen— it’s late!” Leonardo said, leaning further back in his chair with his hands folded behind his head. “Let the kid sleep and in the morning, we’ll try and find anyone missing an egg. If not, then he’ll be here to stay. Easy as pizza pie!”

The next morning, the brothers did just as they said they would. With Picassio snuggled safely in the warmth of a heated blanket tucked against Raphael, the brothers took the hidden city in search of any reptiles that might be missing an egg. They found no such being, and as such returned home with Picassio. They searched the entire length of the Hidden City the rest of the week, from the boggy swamps to the dry deserts to the humid rainforest district. Wherever they went, the hatchling was denied by all. Finally, they relented in their search and returned home with Picassio in hand.

Picassio was there to stay.

A week passed of caring for the infant. Splinter helped out, and so did April, and the younger turtle brothers, but the brunt of the responsibility fell to Raphael. He didn't mind it though. The baby wasn’t particularly picky when it came to the foods he ate— he couldn’t drink formula, lacking a suck reflex to take on a bottle, but he had taken to the soft baby foods quite eagerly once his egg sac had receded and left him hungry. Other than that, all Raphael really had to do was keep him cleaned and entertained and safe; how hard could that be?

Two weeks passed. Raphael was feeling downtrodden but still hopeful, and Picassio grew attached fast. Now, Raphael could hardly get a minute to himself. Be it in the shower or in his room or getting a quick snack from the kitchen, Picassio was always right on his tail. Raphael was just glad that Donatello and Leonardo took over the night shift whenever the hatchling woke up hungry or scared or bored, and whenever Michelangelo took to playing with the baby it was a welcomed break for Raphael. When he wasn’t worrying for the baby's health and safety, of course.

The worst of it all was having to balance caring for the hatchling with his own training and with leading the team. Nightly missions became biweekly, and then once a week if he was lucky. Splinter had offered to take care of the hatchling while Raphael completed his rounds but being apart from the baby for too long was proving to fry Raphael’s focus, his mind still back in the lair and with his baby even when his body was out in the field. Soon, his brothers began going out without him, and Raphael, though sad, was partially relieved he could spend less time worrying and more time carrying for Picassio.

Three weeks passed. It was a night when they had no mission, so the twins were on babysitting duty. As far for caring for Picassio went, the two of them couldn’t be farther from each other.

“Ugh! Does he have to cry every night?” Leonardo groaned, covering his ear flaps and scowling at the howling newborn. “At this rate even dad’s gonna wake up!”

Donatello was gently rocking the newborn and humming a lullaby, his voice just as monotonous as ever despite the adoration he held for the baby in his arms. “It might help if you would stop shouting and go get our little pistachio peanut something to eat.”

Leonardo stared at Donatello for a moment shaking his head. He couldn’t remember the last time Donatello had looked at anything with such love and care as he looked at the turtle tot, tracing a smooth finger across the length of Picassio’s chest in soothing spirals. Leonardo stared a moment longer before rolling his eyes and creating a portal to step through, too lazy to walk the short distance to the kitchen to retrieve the crushed peaches from the fridge. They were proving to be Picassio’s favorite.

When Leonardo returned, Donatello was no longer humming or staring at Picassio, and the crying of the newborn had faded instead to churrs that Leonardo found himself returning. A familial churr, he recognized immediately deep in the heart of his being. Donatello wasn’t returning the churr however, his eyes fixed instead on something in the distant darkness.

“Donnie, what…?”

Donatello pointed off into the darkness. Leonardo followed the motion until his eyes became used to the dark and he spotted just what had Donatello frozen. There were three different ways you could enter the Lair: The main tunnel, the path the brothers usually took— a mostly empty drain tunnel that lead to the rest of the maze that was the sewers. The second entrance was through the vents, just barely big enough for a small human to squeeze through if they were dedicated enough. The last entry was one the brothers rarely used because it was almost constantly flooded, connected to pipes long since forgotten by the sewer workers and always filled with the stagnant water deep in the lowest depth of the New York City sewers. When heavy rains came, the tunnel would spill its water out into the lair like a temporary lake. And after a few days, the water would recede back into its depth like it was spilling out somewhere. It was in this small lake, at the very edge of the lair, that Leonardo and Donatello witness a large, white specter watching them from the shadows with glowing red eyes.

@thenicare @getacactus @digitl-art-monstr @sententiously-sarcastic @ilo-artistry @sammyheroes @raphael5sanzio @yarchurr

[glowinggator]

Insecure! S/O: Michelangelo

Request: All of these are unbelievably cute! I was wondering if I could request Mikey with an insecure reader? I know you already did Donnie but I would love to see Mikey in this situation, too. Thank you so much!! 🧡

Pairing: Michelangelo 

Content Warnings: None! Just fluff <3 

He doesn’t understand it. Like, at all. You’re so beautiful?? And so smart?? What is there to not like??

He’s not a huge fan of drawing people: Human anatomy is so varied, and it’s hard to capture their true beauty. Not to mention, any minor adjustment can make a painting go straight into Uncanny Valley. But for you? He’ll learn. You are his muse, after all.

He doesn’t understand why you’re so emotional the first time he shows you his work. He just. He made you look so pretty, but you don’t see that in yourself. Once you explain that you don’t feel that pretty, he puts his all into changing your mind.

Scars? Stretch marks? He’ll paint over them to show you how he sees them. Rainbow stripes and golden constellations litter your body, turning you into a living canvas.

He’ll also put stickers on you so you guys can match. It’s hard not to smile when you’ve got lightning bolts and smiley-face stickers on you, but it’s even harder when you match with your sunshine boyfriend.

If you ever vent to him about your insecurities, he’ll listen! If it’s something about say, your appearance, or a fault that you don’t actually have and that your brain just thinks you have, he’ll listen to the end. But at the end, be prepared with a “Babe, I hear you, but you’re just straight up wrong. I diagnose you with Perfectosis. Which, as you know, is official doctor-speak for ‘you’re perfect.’”

I mean, he is Doctor Delicate Touch. Can’t blame him for trying.

He’ll hug you afterwards and tell you everything he likes about you, though. You know he’s gotta throw at least one joke in there before he busts out Doctor Feelings.

He starts doodling you a lot more in his free time.

If anyone tries to cut you off, he’ll cut them off.

“I don’t like it when you cut my partner off like that, dude. Let ‘em speak.”

Second time?

“Ahem, maybe you didn’t hear, but my partner was talking.”

Passive aggressive king.

If they’re a common, repeat offender? There’s a 25% chance that he’ll pounce on them like a feral raccoon.

“Learn some manners!”

He likes to send you wholesome heart memes. They’re always followed up with at least one 🥺

He puts up orange sticky notes in random places around your house. Each one has a really nice, tailored compliment that makes your heart melt.

He’s your own personal hype man. Insecure about the way your clothes fit? He’s there. Insecure about your grades? The professor fucking sucks, your essays are bomb as hell. Art? Dude, your art is so pretty why aren’t you taking commissions? Hype Unlimited.

He’ll also help look for resources if you’re insecure about your proficiency in a skill. We can always get better at something! If we weren’t improving, what would be the point, right?

Honestly, he’s such a sweetheart. You’re an angel in his eyes, and it hurts him to know that you don’t see yourself in that light, too. He does his best to support you in every way possible, even if he doesn’t fully understand the reasoning behind it. The road to self-confidence is a long one, but he’ll be there to support you. <3

[writteninsunshine]

Step Into The Dark - Adam-Centric - NSFW

Title: Step Into The Dark Author: Donnie Fandom: Saw/Insidious Setting: The Bathroom Pairing: None Characters: Adam Faulkner, Lawrence Gordon, Zep Hindle, John Kramer, Specs (Insidious), Tucker (Insidious), David (Saw .5), OC: Matthew Faulkner, OC: Lukas Radford-Faulkner Genre: Angst/Horror Rating: M Chapters: 1/1 Word Count: 2006 Type of Work: One-Shot Status: Complete Warnings: Canon Character Death, Hallucinations, Sensory Deprivation, Adam Dying, AU - Canon Divergent, Adam just starves to death here, Vent Disclaimer: I don’t own anything except Matt and Lukas. Summary: Adam would have accepted anything to dull the pain, even death. AN: Lol just have to say this before I get into the meat of it, I checked, and 2006 was the original word count for this. 2006 was the release year for Saw III. I just thought that was funny. xD So… On to the real thing here. I’ve been doing not very good and really needed to torture Adam, I guess. I don’t usually write his death, or him being dead or whatever, but I guess I needed to vent pretty badly. I hope you guys enjoy! Edited by my friend, Griff, because I couldn’t do it myself.

Bye Bye Man/Insidious/Saw Fic Masterlist Step Into The Dark ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ While Adam was used to the clawing beast in his stomach, this was a new low for him. Dying in the dark, waiting for something that wasn’t coming. Lawrence had lied to him, and all he could hear was I wouldn’t lie to you. over and over again in his head. An endless loop, sometimes in slow-motion as if he could pull every syllable from Lawrence’s filthy, lying lips if he tried hard enough, and it was growing so old. The last thing he remembered seeing were those grotesquely bright blue eyes. They had been so handsome before the blood loss; it had made the incandescent fire in them scorch him, before leaving him to rot.

It took too much effort to be angry anymore. It took too much effort to even open his eyes, and he’d given up on trying to move his right shoulder at all. There was no escape this time, no way to duck under the responsibility and run. His own cowardice had landed him in the one place he couldn’t seem to leave. Even the acrid scent of his dead cellmate and the stench of shit didn’t register anymore. He had heard of the term ‘nose-blind’, but this was probably to a rather crazy degree. Old-Lady-With-Twenty-Cats crazy. Sunlight was a vague memory, something he couldn’t quite grasp anymore, and he yearned for one more sunrise. In his restless dreams he saw his family, his father’s crooked grin - passed to all of his sons, Lukas’ inability to stick to one person, David’s sardonic attitude, Specs’ nerd culture. They welcomed him back, Matt constantly babying him, much to his siblings’ chagrin, and even Lukas was being kind. That was probably the biggest tell that it was a desperate fantasy. Another bout of stomach acid shredded his throat as it leaked out of his mouth, and he didn’t have it in him to even move. Barfing on his shirt was something that, last month, would have been alcohol-induced. Here, he was so used to tasting acid and feeling sick that he couldn’t imagine ever drinking booze again. With his head pounding and his eyes, adjusted to the dark enough to see the vague shapes of the fixtures, pulsing, he closed them carefully, watching the spinning dots behind his eyes like an in-flight movie. When had his life become so bad that he wished for his shithole apartment, that he missed the days that he couldn’t eat because he didn’t have the money? Having the option sounded like it would be better than this. How long had he been down here? It could have been three hours or three days. That time was spent either pleading with God or hating him because that had always worked for other people. It wasn’t like he had access to anything else, either. The tap didn’t run, not anymore. Even the ticking of the clock had stopped at some point, leaving him in the dark in deafening silence. It figured that he wouldn’t be allowed to count the seconds by to try haphazardly to keep time. Worse than that, though, was when he could hear things. Little scampering feet in the darkness. They had to belong to rats, mice, things of that ilk, and if Adam knew these New York sewer lines, he’d be feeding mammoth rats before the day was out. It did enough to terrify him into stiffening until his shoulder quaked, but nothing ever ventured close enough to touch him. Maybe in his sleep, emboldened by his steady breathing, but never when he heard them when he was awake. Beady eyes in the darkness watched him, mocked him with their ability to come and go as they pleased. Rustling the chain did well enough to scare them off, and it was usually both a gift and a curse when he finally decided to move his leg. Restriction made comfort a far cry in any position, but even less so now that it felt like his ass had been melded with the broken tile beneath himself. Sometimes, he humored himself; which of them was really worse off, after all? At least Adam had both of his feet, the evidence was on the other side of the room. It was a poor claim to happiness when seconds later his traitorous brain replied with, But he has his freedom. That was, if Lawrence had managed to crawl to safety. For all Adam knew, Zep wasn’t the only corpse he shared a catacomb with. Anything beyond the bathroom was a mystery, and he’d go so far as to say that anything in the bathroom out of reach was a best guess, at this point. It was almost impossible to even tell which of Zep’s feet he had had to kick away from himself at first. Once the door was closed and he was, rather suddenly, left with the inability to take anything for granted, he took everything in his general vicinity for some semblance of safety. For a while, he had thought it was a better use of his time to try and find the key, to lay in the bathtub instead of on the floor. The less strength he had in his arms and legs to lift himself, however, meant he had wanted to get up and down less. Eventually, he parked back against the floor, and he wasn’t sure he’d moved much in the last millennia. He was a fixture of this bathroom, like the tub, the clock, Zep’s lifeless corpse. Sometimes he wondered if he’d been dead this whole time, if he wasn’t already gone and his soul hadn’t left, hadn’t been given the chance or the option to leave. Was this Hell? The question had crossed his mind on a few occasions, but he never truly entertained it. If nothing else, leaving the thought open-ended meant that there was a chance that this mind-numbing loneliness would leave, that the impending doom he felt looming all around him could end. Even if he didn’t live, which was looking like the only option, death would be a welcome reprieve. What had he ever done to deserve this? He supposed starving to death in a shithole you could leave wasn’t much better than starving to death in one you couldn’t, but at least he’d been able to try and change his situation before. That was his mistake, he mused absently, giving a breathless, mirthless chuckle. His only sin had been living, trying to survive. Had he gone back to his dad’s two-bit trailer and scraped up his pride off the floor for dinner instead, maybe this wouldn’t have happened to him. Hell, Lukas was better off than he was, and the man was a walking medicine cabinet if you were paying high enough. Why wasn’t Lukas tested? Or, maybe he had been. That Jigsaw guy was intent on cleaning up the under crust, and Lukas was as slimy as they came. Unbeknownst to him, David had been a player in his own game, just the same as he was, except for the thorny issue of him being the triplet that lived. David’s survival was the only thing holding Matt together, who pleaded and threatened God in equal measure to have his son returned to him. Much like an unimpressed Customer Service employee, God had deigned to do nothing but let him rant, so far. It almost hurt more that his dad might be holding out hope that he’d come out of this, but he would say it was a close second. This hurt like Hell. Whatever his stomach was saying, he’d almost forgotten the translation. Pain, sure, it hurt, but it always hurt. No matter how much writhing and pitching it did, it melted in with everything else that wore on him. Sleep was nonexistent for him, but there was occasionally a lull in the constant pounding of his head. Were his eyes ever even open, anymore? He could make out vague shapes but it didn’t really seem much different from when he closed his eyes again. A sudden rush of light plagued his tired eyes, and he blinked awake, lower jaw quivering slightly. “Adam, come on.” Lukas cried, and the eye roll could be heard in his voice as he slammed his elbow into the table, “Dad says we can’t eat if you don’t get your ass in gear, he’s gonna starve all of us because of you, lazy assh--” “Shut it, Lukas, don’t you have a ballet thing to be at for daughter number twelve?” Matt’s voice cut in, playful and sharp as a tack, and Adam felt a smile working onto his face. It turned to a full-on grin when his father could be heard smacking Lukas’ shoulder, “You watch your mouth. I’m your father.” “Pretty sure Adam’s the only one that matters to you. Davey and I’ll just have to go hungry.” “David’s a good kid, he can have as much KFC as he wants, too.” “KFC?” Adam heard himself before he could register that he’d spoken. His voice didn’t sound broken, it didn’t sound fractured or even quiet, it was just how it used to be. “The grilled shit?” “Yeah!” Lukas piped up again, peeking around the wall a little to give Adam a disapproving frown, “With mashed potatoes, macaroni, coleslaw, and biscuits. Get in here or I’m going to eat everything but the fucking slaw.” “You will not.” Matt snapped, before his voice turned soft and coaxing, “Adam, come on, baby boy. Got all your favorites.” “You did not,” Adam found himself giggling, elated at the idea that anyone would actually like coleslaw, “You got coleslaw, and not extra Mac.” “I know, kiddo, that’s the thing I got me that I know you brats won’t eat. Except maybe Tucker.” “Tucker eats coleslaw.” Specs supplied, already dishing out his plate of mashed potatoes, gravy and a single drumstick. “But he eats almost anything.” The mammoth of a man sat with his family around the coffee table in the dingy trailer he grew up in, on the floor because all of the chairs were too tall for him to still reach the table. Everyone was staring, expectant, as Adam shuffled in place in the hallway that lead to the bedrooms, biting his lip and feeling out of place. Was this even his family anymore? “Adam,” Matt’s tone took on a sugary sweet tone that had him wary, knowing he had probably done something wrong, “Come on, come eat. I know you’ve been struggling. You’re not in trouble, I’m your dad, I can do stuff like this for you guys now and again, even if you’re grown. Especially because you’re grown.” Acceptance seemed to wash over him in waves. Each step he took onto the thin carpet didn’t feel like anything, but he was moving forward, taking a spot between David and Specs on the couch. David offered a one-armed half-hug, and Specs barely tilted his head before demolishing his drumstick. Lukas shot him an expectant look but dug into the breast he’d pilfered from the bucket, eating enough that when Matt noticed, he didn’t do anything more than glare. “You know that’s--” “Adam’s, I know, I get it. We all know he’s your favorite.” Lukas groaned, “It’s weird to pick a favorite identical triplet but whatever.” “I don’t play fav--” “Dad,” Specs paused in his eating to look up, “You do, and it’s okay.” There was something in Adam’s hands. It didn’t feel like the greasy, delicious grilled chicken wing he’d picked up, it was soft, firm and bony. Cold, maybe, or just cool. It didn’t seem quite right, but he couldn’t exactly see anything wrong with it. Warmth blanketed his face as he took a bite, and something seemed to give. With a final sigh, everything melted away into nothingness, and he finally felt at peace. Matt never would get to see his son again without looking into the faces of the remaining triplets. ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ AN: I forget why I started this, but this happened even more because of some shit happening in my life right now and I’m just…. Trying to keep going. This sort of helped but I’m also more anxious, now.

[ducknotinarow]

[87 Don Raph]

Donatello's beak opened and shut, taking in Raph's words carefully. He'd seen them angry, he'd seen them upset, but to be brought to tears with worry? Well, it's not new, but it's always worrying. And the fact that it was Donatello that did it to his own twin only made it all the worst in his eyes,

"Raphael I..."

But what can he say to make it better? No, it's not words that need to be said, it's actions.

So he opened his arms wide, and wrapped them around Raph, hugging them as tightly as he can in that moment, simply holding them until they seemed to be calming,

"Raphael I had no idea," Don admits, "I never realised me running off after my inventions worried you so much," He manages a tiny laugh, "For the smart one, I sure am dumb huh?"

He swallows thickly, frowning. Don's grip on Raphael tightens even more, proving he's not going anywhere,

"I'm sorry Raphie, I really didn't think it would upset you this much," Don apologises, "I promise, from now on, when one of my machines goes haywire, or mission, I won't try and take care of it by myself."

Something that was going to be incredibly difficult for him. They were his machines, his responsibility. Besides, if his brothers see how many of his inventions fail, seeing as there's a few they don't need to know about, well, they may look at him differently. But Don has to try and ask for help, for Raphael's sake more than his own,

"I'll come find you, or Leo, or even Mikey, if I need help - I promise it," Donnie repeats, still refusing to let go, "I'm really sorry Raphie."

| Muse interaction [ part one ] [ part two ]

Raphael watched as his twin seemed stunned at his outburst just now. Left to open and close their beak a few times clearly left with no words to give. They weren't the only one to be a loss for what more to say. Raph soon lifted an arm and use it to wipe across his face trying to dry up the damn tears that just wouldn't stop. Fuck what was with him so suddenly?

"Raphael I..."

Raph hadn't meant for himself to snap the way that he had but he just couldn't stand how blind Donatello seemed to be when it came to this all. And that was what was getting under his shell was, they Donatello just didn't see an issue with how they were being. So when Donatello confronted him well maybe part of Raphael had been just waiting to vent it out to make it known how he felt about it all! How Don running off and risking his safety put fear into his twin. Every single time all he could think was about if they got hurt. He could so clearly imagine them dying even.

Before Raphael could think of anything more to say to what he admitted to though he felt Don's arm move to hold round him, hugging him close and tight. Raph stayed still a moment, before he curled his arm arms around his brother. Fingers took a moment to feel over their shell a moment as if needing to check for sure. Yeah he was still here. He dropped his face to rest against their shoulder and soon the water works were on once more. He hated crying.

"Raphael I had no idea,"

Yeah well how could they know Raph didn't exactly say anything to point to how he was feeling about Donnie's behavior after all. Slightly letting his face hide in against his brother's shoulder as he tried to clam down. The hug helped. Feeling his brother was here when that fear of his was working on him again? He just needed to keep that in mind, Donatello was okay he was alive. Raphael didn't need to be crying and getting so worked up like this. Cause Donnie was fine and standing right here with him there was nothing to worry about.

"I never realised me running off after my inventions worried you so much,"

"..Yeah well I kind of didn't either till it kept happening more and more. And it just got. Worse Donatello." Raphael manged to say voice a tad muffled as he spoke up, he could hear Don soon laugh a little, maybe trying to lighten the mood somewhat between them right now.

"For the smart one, I sure am dumb huh?"

Raphael manged his own chuckle just now "Yeah you're a real dimwit ya know Don?" His voice cracked a little as he cane feel Donnie's hold tighten he kind of understood what they were trying to say to him, So he relaxed his own grip just a bit as he rested in against his brother. Trying to clam himself back down.

"I'm sorry Raphie, I really didn't think it would upset you this much,"

Raph hummed a bit to show he was listening, as he sort of just stared over his brothers shell in thought. He guessed he should say it's okay to say he took their apology but, well it wasn't okay that Donnie didn't seem to even consider the risk to himself. Actually that brother him the most still how little his brother seemed to care for his own safety. If Raph was being the reckless once between them he was pretty sure Don would have a lot to say on the matter. Maybe Raphael was just being a bit too protective of them though?

"I promise, from now on, when one of my machines goes haywire, or mission, I won't try and take care of it by myself."

Raph's attention shifted at what Donnie had said just now he was a bit shocked how easily they took to what he said just now. Oh he was very aware how hard it was going to be for Don to keep to that promise of course. Raphael knew his twin well enough to know that they could be very prideful at times. And well pride could make it hard to admit you made a mistake. Kind of why Raph harped on his inventions so much as well. He was taking shots at their pride. No wonder Don couldn't take his hazing anymore but it was that damn pride that created this issue. Don would very well die over the matter of pride alone.

"I'll come find you, or Leo, or even Mikey, if I need help - I promise it,"

That did get a smile on his beak at least, despite their ego he knew Don was being sincere right now.

"I'm really sorry Raphie."

Raph sniffled a bit and pulled up enough to at least lifted his head, gree eyes glossy from the tears still in his own eyes despite his efforts to put on a brave face as he offered a faint smile to them. "yeah well you best be numbskull." he gives a weak laugh, and pulls an arm away so he can once more try to dry up his eyes. Jeez he cried more than he realized guess it was getting to him more than he had thought. "Ya better come get one of us or imma use that damn Casey single and tell that lunatic I need him to keep an eye on ya." he mildly threatened just now. "pretty sure he'll do it if I tell him a lawbreaker been followin' ya around or something." he had the dumbest image in his head of Casey standing far to close to Donnie watching them like a hawk, baseball bat in hand looking more like they were the one going to hurt Donnie over protecting them. And Donnie looking annoyed and worried at the same time he knew Donnie didn't hold quite same level of patience for Casey after all. "Don't think I won't I don't make my threats lightly after all Donnie."

He soon latches back on to his twin giving them a good hard squeeze between his arms. It had honestly helped to get that all out in the air, all that yelling when his temper flared. Might not be the take away he should be having but hey Don listened and heard him even so ya know maybe it was also the right take away. "Don, I meant it I dunno what I do if I lost ya like that so suddenly. I know ya could do real good for the world if you wanted but...well. I still need my brother too. So I mean you know I'm always here too even if your inventions don't work out." he tried to offer best he could hoping they got what he meant. "but..I'm sorry to for being a bit of a jerk." he thinks for a second before pulling back from the hug finally willing to let his brother go now. "Okay for being a mondo jerk. Even if i worry about you. Just well I rather have you around to piss of then the opposite of that okay? So I'll try to cool it with the criticism" Not full stop cause well sometimes he did truly dislike Donnie's inventions when they back fried or directly affected him.