#gotta drag my friend over to watch it with meeeeee

[speakyskelly-1999]

okay so i finally get to watch more sailor moon

but before then

i also started both kotaro lives alone and revolutionary girl utena

i'm just gonna combine a mini review of them here cos i've only seen 4 epidoes of utena and 2 oh kotaro and i'll just get them out my head quickly

oh and minor spoilers for both i guess

i lied

nah i'm just kiddeing this shouldn't be too long

utena first

so like it very much is what if we did avant guarde sailor moon with more lesbians. i already new some bits about it (for example the fact that pearl and rosequartz/pink diamonds relationship was based off of utena and anthy) but yea it's really cool. falling under the scope of left field magical girl (this also includes like kill la kill and little witch acadimia in my mind) it's very good. it's one of thoes shows that, cos some of it is up for interpritation, i had to double check some stuff on the wiki as to not confuse myself with the previous notions i had (like checking if two characters are the same or legit different people) which meant i got some minor spoilers but it's nothing i can't deal with. i'm very curious to see where it goes/how it gets to some rough stuff i know. i love the animation. like, and this goes for like sailor moon and cardcaptor sakura. it's really nice going back and watching the 90s style of anime. very satisfying. the music in the show wasn't what i was expecting but is a banger (i litterally have the appocolyse song stuck in my head while writing this). i really like utena as a protagonist. i love her drive and ferce sence of justice and the fact that she was like 'i respect this prince so mush imma become a prince' yas home girl wear that boys uniform and slay. anthy is interesting. she's very intreging, as she's meant to be, and i'm curious to see more of her personality as we've not seen to much of it yet due to her always trying to conform to what others want of her. nanami is a bitch and i love her. like in the same way people like regina geroge and hether. she;s such a bitch. i cannot wait to see where she goes (i'm ignoring her obsession with her brother. tbf it's very much one sided to the point where her brother just don't really seem to notice to berating her if she gets in his way but yea). then there are other characters. anthy's fience when the shows starts is an arse and is in the like the first two episodes and i don't wanna see more of him but i might have ot put up with him. nanami's borther, i don't remember his name, has a thing for utena and has decided to try and manipulate her. it's not working for him. micky is nice, genuinly thought he was a girl for a really long time, he's just oretty sweet so far. and that's it really. there's the animal side kick monkey. he's cute. 8/10 anime so far

err so yea

kotaro lives alone

so one of my friends said it was just really wholesome and cute while my other friend said that they couldn't watch past the fist episode due to the weird vibes. they're both right. it's a cute aime about a 4 year old boy who lives alone in an appartment block and the other tenant's become his family. why he lives alone... i don't exactly know yet and from the sounds of it why he either chose or had to live alone won't really be explored fully. like theres hints of what he endured (hell the show is rated a 12 which the tag of child abuse on it on netflix). the friend who has seen it won't tell me cos they're very none spoilery but i also have an incling that it would be talked about in that much detail. hell kotaro's neighbours won't ask him about it properly due to the fact that it could be quite unsetting for him to talk about/not really knowing how to bring it up. but asides from that it is very cute. the fact that he's able to get his family from his neighbours is great. the guy who lives next to him is his surragate dad, the woman next door again is becoming his mother figure, and the yakuza looking dude downstairs is his creepy uncle. every family needs a creepy uncle. (okay but in all seriousness he's not actually like creepy creepy, he has a kid of his own which he can't see cos i'm assuming previous gang affiliation so kotaro is like a suragate son for him but he goes too all in with it). it's only 10 episodes so i'm quite excited to see where it goes. okay but like the one thing that bug/urks me (and it's not the darker undertones of the show) it's kotaros eyes. idk why they're not even that creepy. and it's not like i'm not use to unusual eyes in anime and cartoons. my brain just really dons't like how his eyes are done. like this neighbour, who's like his dad, has a similar thing going on but without the pupils and that's whatever to me. it's kotaros eyes shape and stuff with the pupils that unnerves me so. i hate that it does so. 7/10

[remmushound]

Bay/rise 27!! @errorfreak88 @selfindulgenz. Special thanks to @brightlotusmoon for help with this chapter!!

Mikey’s eyes popped out of his hiding space to watch Raph do his reps, giggling like a hatchling. Raph noticed him, of course, but didn't give his baby brother any attention. He was winding down to hopefully catch a few quick hours of sleep while Leo meditated on their next move against this ‘Draxum’.. After nearly ten minutes of being eyed down like the last slice of pizza, Raph couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“Can I help you with something?” Raph put his weights up and sat up with his arms crossed.

Mikey finally came out from behind the weight rack without saying a word and collapsed onto Raph. Raph gave a grunt at the heavy weight, then scowled as the hug went on for far longer than he had anticipated.

“Whatcha doin’~?”

“Uh. Liftin’.” Raph answered, giving Mikey a pat on the carapace hoping it would dislodge him. It didn't work. “What are you doing?”

Mikey grunted and slid down into Raph’s lap, laying over his legs like a melting ice cream. “I’m boooooooored.”

“Whatchu want me to do about it?”

“Make me not booooored!”

Raph rolled his eyes and finally shoved Mikey off of him, laying down and trying to go back to his lifting. He didn't even see Mikey move, but by the time his hands were back on the handle bar, Mikey was perched on it staring down at him. Raph decided not to acknowledge him and proceeded to lift a few more times before Mikey slid down and plopped himself on Raph’s chest.

“Pay attention to meeeeee!” Mikey pawed him like a cat.

Raph lifted the weight back into its rack and picked up Mikey, putting him back in the rack as well. Raph left him there and went for the treadmill, but before he could even start it, Mikey ran and jumped on his back with his arms wrapped around Raph’s neck.

“What’s your problem Mikey?!” Raph snarled and spun around, tossing Mikey off of him and sending the smaller turtle to the ground with a hurt expression. Raph took a few deep, shaky breaths. “I just wanna be alone right now Mikey.”

“Okay…” Mikey didn't bother arguing, leaving Raph alone with his head hanging low.

***

“DON!”

Donnie screamed and almost dropped the orb, bouncing it a few times between his hands before he was able to get a good grip on it and then glare back at his brother.

“Mikey! You almost made me drop New York!”

“Did I scare ya?” Mikey slid in beside Donnie, resting his head and arms on the table.

“Yes.” Donnie huffed, carefully placing the orb back on the desk. “What do you want?”

“I’m bored!” Mikey sat up and rested his head on Donnie’s shoulder instead. “What are you doing? Can I help?”

“The other Donatello is letting me take notes on the mystic orb, and no you can’t help.”

“Why not?” Mikey rolled onto Donnie’s other shoulder, “My eyes are better than yours! I can help!”

“No, Mikey.” Donnie shoved Mikey off of him, but Mikey came back quickly.

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Would you please just leave me alone?” Donnie didn't mean for the words to come out so harshly, but they did.

Mikey pulled away and his eyes fell, shaking his shoulders and dragging his feet on the floor. “Sorry. Just wanted to help.”

Donnie tried to call back to his brother as Mikey walked off, but no words came out. A moment of regretful silence and Donnie turned his attention back to the orb.

***

“Hey Leo! Whatchu doing?”

Leo sat with his legs crossed on the floor, his eyes closed, and hands folded on his lap. In front of him were scented candles that filled the air with an alluring scent of lavender.

“Meditating? That’s cool.” Mikey sat down beside him, crossing his own legs and trying to copy Leo’s calm. “I think I’m gonna do that too. Ommmmmm! Ommmm!”

While Mikey hummed, tapping his fingers together in a stim, Leo slowly broke from his own state and opened an eye to glare at the loud turtle making a mockery of him.

“Mikey.”

Mikey’s eyes shot open. “Is meditation over? Sweet! That took forever! Let’s go play Super Mario brothers!”

“Mikey.” Leo’s patience was running thin.

“I’ll let you be Mario…” Mikey said softly— hopefully.

“Please leave me be.”

Mikey hung his head and gave a weak nod as he got to his feet and walked away to leave Leo to his activity.

***

“Hey!” Michelangelo’s chipper voice quickly turned solemn at the sad look on Mikey’s face. He pulled himself onto the bed beside the upset box turtle and stared at him for a long moment before saying, “You’re upset.”

Mikey nodded. “I don’t feel good.”

“How not good?”

Mikey shrugged.

Michelangelo hummed and rocked back and forth for a moment before giving an excited squeak and running off for a second. Mikey watched as he left but said nothing. Michelangelo returned minutes later, much to Mikey’s confusion, and offered him a giant hunk of clay.

“Here! Mold while we talk!”

“Thanks!” Mikey took the clay and almost immediately started to fiddle around with it while Michelangelo pulled himself back beside him, saying nothing. Mikey let himself play with the clay for several awkward minutes before suddenly saying, “You like pizza?”

Michelangelo beamed. “Ohhhh! I love pizza! My favorite kind is pepperoni!”

“I’m more of a meat lover's pie myself.” Mikey held a hand to his chest proudly.

“Oh that’s good too!”

Another silence followed. Mikey kept finding himself looking over at Michelangelo, expecting the turtle to say or ask something. But Michelangelo didn't.

“So…” Mikey whistled, trying to make the silence somewhat more bearable.

“Something on your mind?” Michelangelo prompted with an innocent smile.

“Um. Just… the silence is weird!” Mikey laughed, and Michelangelo giggled along with him, “Like, I feel like we should be talking about something!”

“Well, what do you want to talk about?”

Mikey only shrugged. Michelangelo let the silence go on a moment longer before saying,

“How… about what’s making you so sad?”

“Who said I’m sad?”

“You’re sitting here alone on your bed looking like you lost your best friend. And I saw how you were on the rooftop earlier… when they were talking about… you know.” Michelangelo thought it best not to mention the name. “Do you dislike hugs…?”

Mikey traced his fingers across a crack on his plastron. “I love hugs! I love giving them! Just… not getting them… not anymore...”

“So... you don’t dislike hugs. You dislike being squeezed. Because somebody hurt you like that on purpose…”

Mikey gulped.

“That’s okay. It’s okay to not like being squeezed.” Michelangelo said slowly, “Do your brothers know?”

“No. Then think because my cracks are healed that I’m healed...”

“Mm. Well, I won’t tell them if you won’t want me to. But you should. You have autonomy over your own body, even if it's against your family. Especially if it's against your family! If you don’t set boundaries, then they can’t know when they cross them.”

“But I don’t wanna upset them…”

Michelangelo scoffed. “Upset them? Our brothers are shinobi! They’re tough as nails! And if they can’t take you setting your own rules on your own body then they seriously need to reconsider their life choices. Your body is your temple to paint and restrict as much as you so wish! But I can tell I’m not getting through to you… so. How does roleplaying sound?”

“Roleplaying?”

“You pretend to be your Raph, and I’ll pretend to be you! Now: Try and hug me!”

“Oh— okay!” Mikey sat up a little taller and cleared his throat. “Hey bro! Come give Raphie bear a hug!”

“I would rather not be hugged right now.” Michelangelo stated calmly, “I will however accept a fist bump, high five, or pat.” Mikey held out his hand for a high five, and Michelangelo quickly obliged. “There you go! Now be more insistent! Demand a hug!”

Mikey was still in character, so quickly said, “Naw man, you’s gotta give me a hug!” And he moved to hug Michelangelo.

Michelangelo shoved him away and hopped back. “I do not consent to being hugged!”

Mikey withdrew at the sudden shout, bringing his hands back to his chest and staring wide-eyed. Michelangelo’s faux-rage quickly faded back to his gigglish state as he bounced back over and hopped on the bed.

“See? So next time he goes to hug you, but you don’t want him to, then try that!”

“That was scary cool!” Mikey laughed, “Where’d you learn how to do that?”

“My dad taught me! He always told me to stick up for myself and for those who can’t do it themselves! A bully’s just that. Except in this situation, your mind is the bully making you sick! And once you get it under control, you can manage everything a lot better! And the first way to do that is to set boundaries for yourself.”

“Your dad has such cool advice.” Mikey laughed, “My dad’s only told me that people fear what they don’t understand.”

“And they hate what they fear.” Michelangelo finished with a solemn nod, “That much is true.”

“Yeah…” Mikey’s voice was raw, stripped of stereotypes and mimics. Just… himself. “I just wish they didn't.”

“You can wish and wish and wish, but things aren’t gonna get better unless you make them that way. Little by little. But start with helping yourself, okay?” Michelangelo put a gentle hand on the giant mutant's leg. “Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot. Things aren’t going to get better; it’s not.”

Mikey was silent for a long moment. “Did you just quote Dr.Seuss—?”

“Yeah, I just quoted Dr.Seuss, you got a problem with it?”

Mikey thought a moment, and then only laughed. “Hey— no judgement here! Suess rocks!”

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Flood my Mornings: Hectic

This story takes place in an AU in which Jamie travels through the stones two years after Culloden and finds Claire and his child in 1950 Boston.

See all past installments via Bonnie’s Master List

Previous installment: Big Top 

Anon suggested: In FMM, how about a stressful day in the Fraser house? As much as I adore the fluff, I would love to see how they manage a more hectic scenario 

March,1952

It truly is uncanny, that supernatural power that comes with having children: the moment you endeavor to switch things up a bit, to invite friends over for dinner, to be just that tiny bit spontaneous, everything goes to pot in a New York minute. 

I’d seen Marian at the end of my shift and happily-heedlessly made the invitation for that very evening. She’d readily accepted, said she’d be there in a few hours with Tom, and that was that. I spent the bus ride home mentally formulating the menu, and thought it would be a relatively simple affair. 

Except, the bus ended up being seriously delayed due to traffic, putting me home extremely late. Penelope had been terribly apologetic about it, but had had to leave as soon as I stepped over the threshold. I hadn’t had even the basic forethought to phone ahead and get her to go to the market, so I’d had to bundle up both children into the car; haul them around the market while I tried to remember my mental ingredients list; apologize to the other shoppers for my brood’s caterwauling, for neither was on their best behavior (Ian was cutting a tooth and making sure the world knew it); apologize to the manager when Bree managed to upset a giant pyramid of oranges; haul both tiny terrors back to the house along with the groceries; unbundle both babes and bags in the freezing rain that had had the gall to start up during the drive; set Ian down for a nap; start preparing the recipe; set Bree up in the living room with a coloring book; greet Jamie as he got home from Fernacre; appraise him of the night’s plans, and ask (beg) for help in getting the house presentable; smell something burning; sprint back to the kitchen; try to salvage the burnt onion gunk from the stovetop.... 

....and that’s when Bree staggered into the kitchen, bawling her eyes out. 

“What’s wrong?” I said, glancing over to make sure she wasn’t bleeding, which was today’s bar for toddler catastrophes. I mean, she’d been howling in some fashion for the better part of the last hour, after all, so I didn’t feel too terribly about being rather cursory in asking, “Did you hurt yourself?” 

Sob. Cough. Sniff. Coughing sob of : “Noooooooo....” 

I transferred the hurriedly-scrubbed pan back to the stove. “Alright then, why are you crying?” 

Cough. Sob. Wail: “—the—CRAYONNnnnnnn—” 

I forced a deep breath. “What about your crayon, darling?” 

Higher, louder wail. “I DINNA—LIKE THE—GREEN ONE—” 

“You don’t—What??” 

Just then, Jamie walked in, broom and dustpan in hand, with a dustbunny clinging to his 5 o’clock shadow. At the same time, Ian started screeching from his crib in the room he and Bree now shared. Distracted by the chorus of cries now echoing round the house like some hellish opera, Jamie stared blankly at Bree for a minute before blinking and scooting around her, heading to the dustbin. 

“What’s got ye upset, cub?” he asked over his shoulder, for once sounding as impatient as me. Good not to be the only parent at the end of one’s rope. 

“That—GREEN—W—W—ONNNNE,” Bree sobbed, her face red as an apple and streaming with snot. 

Jamie threw a harried glance at me. “What’s she—?”

“A green crayon is upsetting her for some reason? I think?” I sighed as I tried to salvage my recipe. 

“Then dinna use the green one,” Jamie said, matter-of-fact, putting away the broom and looking for a clean rag. 

“I CANNA DINNA USE IT,” she wailed stamping up and down in her despair, “IT—NEEDS—A—GREEEEEEEN.” 

“Find another type of green, then, lass. There’s a whole box, no?” 

“NOOO, that’s not.... the thing!!” she cried, her hands coming up around her face, “I CANNA—”

“Brianna,” Jamie said sharply, stooping down and looking her directly in the eye. “Mummy and Da are very busy just now trying to get the house ready for Tom and Marian.” 

“I NEED A—” 

“—Ye need to go be quiet somewhere until we have things in hand, aye? Can ye be a big lass and do that?” 

She sobbed harder, her little mouth wrenching up into a perfect, comical rainbow arc. Jamie gave her a quick kiss on the head, then a nudge toward the door. “Go on, now, mo chridhe.” 

She staggered back out, bouncing off the frame in her distraught state. 

“Thank you,” I said, genuinely, if a bit frazzled as I stirred my new concoction. “I did not have the patience to coax out what exactly the green crayon had done to offend her. How much time do we have?” 

“Thirty-five minutes,” he said, checking his watch. “What else can I do?” 

“Oh, let me think...!” I had to raise my voice over the screeching of both children, which had suddenly spiked, persistent as air raid sirens. “The 12 or 93 other things I forgot were undone when I heedlessly invited friends over?”

“It’ll be an enjoyable evening, once it’s begun,” he said firmly, kissing me quickly on the cheek before moving to wash his hands. “It’s been too long since we hosted them.” 

“Let’s hope they like scalded chowder.” 

“They’ll be kind, no matter what, but I’m sure you’re no’ giving yourself enough credit.” 

“I’m SURE you’re wrong,” I groaned, wrinkling my nose as I lifted the lid off the pot, then replaced it quickly in denial. 

We both rushed about madly, trying to finish the final tidying, I to prepare the rest of the food. Que sera, sera on that front. 

I caught sight of Jamie’s watch and gasped. “DAMN it, and I still need to bathe, and....” 

“What is it?” he said warily, cocking his head at my abrupt silence. 

“.....Why is it so quiet?” 

“No, Ian,” Bree was saying firmly, pulling the cardboard book out of his mouth and lifting it back up above their heads. “Gotta read, no’ eat it.” 

We were standing in the doorway of the children’s room, unseen, getting to be flies on the wall for this tableau. 

Bree had apparently managed to monkey-climb up into Ian’s crib. She was down on her back next to him, her feet propped up against the back wall of the crib. She had brought a picture book, and was “reading” to him, a little schoolmistress diligently instructing her protégé. 

“And-then, the kitties all ran around the grass....Kitties say meeeeee-owww, okay? Say it!” 

Ian gurgled and cooed, entranced by his sister’s sense of command. 

“Okay, you can do it later....” A turned page. “But the black kitty was sayin’ ‘Meee-ow-halloooo, all the kitten-friends! Wanna come play on the treehouse?’ And-then all the kittens-friends say ‘AYE! LET’S DO IT!’ and-then they go over up the treehouse and they’re all excited to eat cookies and milkshakes, and THEN ac-shully what-had-happened-was—” 

Even though we were both sweaty from chores, even though guests would be arriving in a twinkling, even though God-knew-what-mayhem was unfolding on the stovetop, neither Jamie nor I seemed able to drag ourselves away from the utter sweetness of that little brown head curled right up next to the red one.