#how are kids NOT going to get splinters from that

[happypartytrain]

apollo had somebody who loved him enough to send him away to somewhere with people he doesn’t know, food he doesn’t like, holidays he doesn’t understand, and a promise that was as worthwhile as candy. it’s so, so sweet for a moment, but then it is gone — gone beyond his realm of understanding, blood shed while he lays awake feeling betrayed.

the days go by and suddenly you’re taller, stronger, and not really cute anymore

kids are so mean when you’re learning to be nice

they take your things because you’re smaller than them and hold them so high you have to stretch yourself until every muscle is screaming

they talk about their dads, they talk about their plans, they talk about their clubs, they talk about their girlfriends, they talk about sports, they talk about school, they talk about how useless you are on their dodgeball teams

but while it never stops, he’s brave enough to get your mother’s bracelet back from the kids that stole it. his timid face and his crooked bandage atop his nose warp into something unrecognizable. he’s so shy, so sad, so scared of life yet enamored by it — yet he pushes them over and before you know it you’re both high-tailing it out of the courtyard with bloody noses and their lunch boxes.

you’re crying. he’s crying. he jokes about stealing their cosmic brownies so that you don’t cry. you cry harder. you know they won’t snitch, but you’re a little scared of what’s to come. still, you promise to protect him, just like you have for the last few years. just like he protected you.

and you’ll see it until you die. you’ll see the light in his eyes, the gap in his teeth, the way he only smiles for you and his cheeks squeeze his eyes half shut

you’ll wake up one day and realize you can’t hear his voice anymore, but his smile is just as bright as the day you lost him

how could you even begin to think anyone, anyone at all, could remotely understand? how could you ever find solace in someone that isn’t him? how could you reintroduce yourself in the hopes of reliving at least a shred of that high, of being known, of learning how to be american, of hearing him burp in restaurants and then egg you on to try to do it louder, of spending late nights out when your parents couldn’t care, of stealing his clothes, of keeping his secrets, of this and that when there are wounds in you bleeding from everywhere he once touched? no one will ever love you enough to try to learn how the heck to make congee like you had over a decade ago when you can’t even remember what it tasted like. no one will ever love you enough to memorize the stars in your zodiac first when he had a full lifetime to absorb it all. no one will ever love you enough to protect you, not anymore. in a way, maybe that was the lesson you should have learned the second you got off that plane when you were so small and skinny you could barely hold onto your bag. this is the real world and no one will be there for you. no one will ever perfectly learn the shape of you.

but, with these wounds clawing you apart and the stars always watching, you vow to be all that and then some. you’ve got splinters in your hands from that damn prop dragon, you’re running out of pens because you keep trying to make it through the loops in her hair bow, you always get a large soda ‘cause someone in this weirdly close office is gonna chug half of it, and you always give it your all to paint the world screaming neon & clear up the clouds in the sky.

you love despite it all, all because he loved despite it all

[not-neverland06]

we're dating? ♡

logan howlett x fem!mutant!reader

One-shot A/N: I've decided using the same X-men name/powers for the reader in my Logan fics is easier because coming up with superpowers is hard and stupid. They call you flux, like once, it's really just a nickname incoming warning for fluff so bad you'll get a cavity Summary: You're on probation from the team and official house arrest after a little accident with your powers. Logan knows you're going stir-crazy so he takes you to the arcade for some fun. And then your friendship takes a weird turn. (80's timeline in mind, but characters not from the 80’s will be mentioned) Clueless!reader

You’d had an accident, a few weeks ago. Well, accident might be downplaying it too much. You’d destroyed the garden and left a ten-foot crater in the backyard of Charles’ prestigious grounds. In your defense, you had warned them all that it wasn’t a good idea to take your cuffs off. 

The metal bands are entirely necessary to make sure you can’t lose control and wipe out everything around you. Manipulation at an atomic level is beyond fatal. You don’t want to think about what would have happened if you’d had the meltdown and the kids were anywhere near you. 

Charles had been able to shut you down, but now he’s keeping you on probation. You’ve been locked up in the mansion, unable to leave until you managed to get your abilities under control. There’s never been a problem with wearing the cuffs before. You don’t understand why he’s so against them now. 

You’re going stir-crazy. There’s only so many times you can pace your room before you start to lose your mind. He’s not even letting you teach classes anymore. You’re stuck training, all day, every day. 

“Focus!” Charles snaps and you resist the urge to turn his bones liquid. Maybe that would get him off your back. 

Instead of killing your friend, you glare at the large tank of water in front of you. You do what you’ve been doing for the past half hour. It fluctuates from liquid to gas to solid, and then liquid again. An endless cycle of repetition that makes you want to melt your brain so you don’t have to do this anymore. 

You drop your hand and huff. “This is pointless, Charles. What’s this even teaching me?”

He crosses his arms, walks over to you, and pointedly glares at the tank in front of you. You roll your eyes and look back at it. “Shit,” you hiss. In your frustration, the glass has cracked and splintered into dust. Water pools around your stool and leaks through the wood of the floor. You flick your wrist, the glass swirling around you before reforming into the tank. The water follows along, droplets lifting from the floor and dropping back into the container. 

“One moment of frustration, of distraction. That’s all it took.” Charles shakes his head and walks back over to his desk. He picks the cuffs up and you slip them silently back onto your wrists. “How can you be trusted to protect your team on the field if you can’t control this? What are you going to do when you’re panicked and fighting for your life?”

Shame bubbles in your gut. It makes you nauseous and forces your eyes to the floor so you don’t have to face him. He sighs, placing his hands on your shoulders and squeezing gently. You glance up at him briefly and he offers a strained smile. 

“This is for your protection, as much as you hate it, Flux. It’s necessary.” You scoff at the use of your X-Men name. Not much of an X-Man if you’re not even on the field anymore. 

“Right,” you mutter. “Thanks for the lesson in incompetency,” you don’t let him respond and slam the door to his office closed behind you. You feel bad the second you get outside and onto the porch. He doesn’t deserve your bitchiness. It’s your own fault you can’t get a handle on this. You don't have anyone to blame but yourself. 

You let out a dramatic sigh, throwing yourself into a rocking chair and running your hands over your face. The once comforting weight of your cuffs is now oppressing. It just feels like a constant reminder of your failure. You should already have a handle on all of this, but you struggle to even manipulate water. 

“Rough day?” You don’t open your eyes as Logan walks by. He takes a seat on the rocking chair beside you, letting out a low groan as he stretches. 

You let your hands drop into your lap, staring at the sunset so you don’t have to face him. You’ve already dealt with enough dejection today. You don’t need to look at him and be reminded that you want him in a way you can never have. 

“Mhm,” you hum, propping your head in your hand as you watch the sun disappear behind the clouds. The sky is painted in hues of pink and orange that seem too hopeful for how you feel right now. 

Logan chuckles, the sound low and gravely. It makes your heart stutter in your chest and you cringe in embarrassment. You know he can hear the way your heart practically beats free of your ribs when you’re around him. You’re sure with that nose of his he can smell some sort of hormonal change in you every time you lay eyes on him. 

You swear you’ve never felt this way about a man before. You haven’t had many boyfriends before, it’s not really common among mutants. Not many people are accepting of you when they know what you are. And some people are too into you. 

But you've had crushes, and none of them have been as bad as this one is. You want to gnaw on him. It sounds fucking insane every time you think about it. But when you train with him and he tears his shirt off, you want to sink your teeth into him and never let go. 

You feel feral around him, a side of you surfacing that you’re not used to. Maybe it’s because of his mutant abilities. They are very animalistic, it’s easy to blame that on how desperately you crave him. 

You hate being around him and despise not being in his presence. It’s conflicting, and more often than not you sound like a bumbling idiot when you speak to him because your brain is going in a million different directions. 

You hear the familiar click of his lighter and then he shifts again. You risk a peek over at him and regret it the second you do. His head is tilted back, eyes closed in relaxation as he stretches across the porch. Smoke leaks out of his lips as he groans in satisfaction. 

You have to pick your jaw up off the floor and make sure there isn’t drool on your chin. This is insane. You’re a grown woman, how does he have this much of an effect on you? He’s not even doing anything! He’s just sitting there and you want to jump his bones. 

You whip your head around, mumbling incoherently to yourself to get it together. Logan peaks an eye open and you miss the mischievous tilt to his lips. “Something wrong?”

I need to have sex with you or I’m going to explode. 

You stutter for a few seconds, getting your mind back together. “Just training with Charles,” you mutter. 

He sits up a little straighter and quirks a brow. When you don’t continue he sighs. “And?” He prods, impatient for your answer. You hope you’re not reading into it, but you think he’s been as disappointed by your absence from the team as you are. He always complains about being partnered up with Scott. You like to think it’s because he misses you. But you’re probably just delusional. 

“And, nothing,” you sigh. Your hands flop against your legs and you glare at the bands on your wrists. “No progress. I still can’t control them without these on, and my abilities are watered down and useless with the cuffs.”

Logan huffs, you’re caught off guard by the sudden warmth on your thigh. You glance down, eyes widening ever so slightly when you see his hand on your leg. It nearly covers the whole thing and when he squeezes your thigh you think you’re going to pass out. 

You’re friendly. But you’ve never been touchy. At least not like this. The placement of his palm is very intimate and you are struggling not to just get on your knees and profess your undying love. You take in a deep breath, looking up at him so you can get your heartbeat under control. 

But looking at him just makes it worse. Because there is so much faith and fondness in his gaze as he looks at you. His lips are tilted up, eyes soft, and you’ve never had someone make you feel so warm and secure from just a look. 

“You aren’t useless,” he tells you. He squeezes your thigh again before he retreats back to his chair. You have to clamp your jaw shut so you don’t beg him to keep touching you and never stop. “You’re just stuck in this house all day. You’ve got nothing to do but sit in your failure.”

You scoff and throw yourself back in your seat. “Don’t remind me. I’ve begged Charles to let me out.” Your gaze drifts to the crater in the backyard. Some of the kids have been working on filling it in, but whatever energy you’d let go of has left a permanent mark. “He refuses to give me permission.”

Logan laughs, the noise teasing and a little mean. Your brows furrow and you glance over at him with a questioning look. He tilts his head in disbelief like you’re an idiot. “Seriously, Flux? Just fuckin’ leave, who gives a shit?”

“Uh,” you think on it for a minute before weakly settling on, “Charles?”

His face falls and you sink lower into your seat. He looks out at the yard, gaze distant. His jaw clenches a few times before he puts the cigar out on the ashtray beside him. He gets to his feet and you think he might just leave. Instead, he turns towards you. 

You’re caught off guard by the little smirk on his face. “Wanna have some fun?”

Only an idiot would say no. 

You grin and place your hand in his, yelping slightly at how easily he pulls you to your feet. You stumble into his chest and are hesitant to back away when his hand drifts to rest on your waist. He looks down at you, smiling, he squeezes your waist once before he backs up. 

“Come on, kid.” He tugs you inside the house, leading you downstairs to the garage. You already know what he’s going for before the door is even open. 

“Didn’t Scott tell you to leave his bike alone?” Logan takes a step inside. He pauses, glancing over his shoulder and grinning at you. It makes your breath catch in your throat, the happiness on his face. You never see him like this around the others. 

You hate thinking like that. Placing too much importance on your relationship with him will only lead to heartbreak down the road. But, you never see him act the way he does with you with anyone else.

“Since when have I ever listened to Cyclops, sweetheart?” 

“Good point,” you mutter, moving to stand next to him. 

He straddles the seat and looks over expectantly at you. “Don’t you need a helmet?”

You shake your head, “Oh, no, it’ll ruin my hair.” You laugh but he gives you a deadpan look. You don’t regenerate the way he does. An accident would be a lot more fatal for you than it would be for him. You huff, “Relax, Lo, I can use my powers.” When he looks like he’s not going to drop it, you let some energy swirl around your fingers. It solidifies the air around your skin, you reach up and flick at his skull hard enough to hear the metal ding. 

He grunts, glaring down at your hand while you grin. “See,” you whisper, sliding onto the back of the bike and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m perfectly safe.” He shakes his head and starts the bike. 

The ride to the arcade is spent in silence. Logan always seems to break every speeding law known to man whenever he takes Scott’s bike out. You’re not sure if he does it to purposefully piss the man off, but it makes you cling to him like a wild animal. You feel like if you hit one speed bump you’re going to go flying. 

By the time he parks your legs feel like jello. He laughs a little at the way your face has blanched. Again, he offers you a hand and holds the door open to lead you inside. You’re trying not to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this whole thing is odd. 

You guys are friends. And you’re friendlier with each other than most of the mutants in the school. But this feels different somehow. For one, Logan kind of despises the arcade. It’s an amalgamation of bad smells and loud noises, and it overwhelms his already sensitive senses. You’ve heard him complain about the smell of body odor and fake cheese enough times when you went on a field trip with the kids. 

Secondly, he’s being more touchy than he normally would. You’re not complaining. You weren’t exactly hugged a lot as a kid, mainly just passed between different mutant fetish clubs. Logan isn’t known for handing hugs out so easily. But right now, he doesn’t seem to be ready to not have at least one hand on you. 

Maybe he’s just cheering you up. You need to stop drifting so far into your mind and just enjoy the night. “Alright, what’s first bub?”

You grin and drag him towards the claw machine. “I’m horrible at these things,” you inform him as you put your quarters in. “But, I hold out hope that one day I’ll be able to actually beat this monster.”

Three failed attempts later, it’s become embarrassingly clear that you will never beat the claw machine. Logan isn’t even trying to hide his amusement as you become increasingly more frustrated. There’s a certain point where this game stops being fun and starts to be an affront to your character. 

Logan peers into the machine and asks, “What are you going for?”

“The pigeon,” you mutter. Your tongue pokes between your lips, and your eyes narrow in concentration. You aim the claw over the pigeon perfectly and slam your hand down on the big red button. 

You’re allowed five seconds of celebration before the damn thing slips out of the claws grasp and tumbles into the pile of stuffies below. “Dammit, Bart,” you let the ridiculous name you’ve come up with for the toy slip.

Logan snorts, leaning against the glass while you jam another quarter in the slot. “Bart?” He teases. 

You shake your head and give him a look out the side of your eye. “What, you think I call myself Flux because I’m good at coming up with names?” You give up after the last failed attempt and turn to face him with a huff. 

He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Tough luck, kid.” He slings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you towards the concession stand. 

“Shut up,” you laugh, slapping lightly at his chest. 

The rest of the night is nice. He doesn’t play much except for the strength-oriented games. And then you kind of just exploit him for more tickets. By the time you get back to the mansion, you’ve forgotten all about why you were upset in the first place. 

Nothing had gone wrong, you didn’t have a total meltdown and wipe out the entire arcade. You don’t know why Charles was so afraid of letting you out. 

Logan walks you back to your room, his hand heavy on your lower back as you head up the stairs. You’re talking endlessly, filling up any gap of silence with rambling you’ve lost track of. You don’t know what it is about him that invites you to yap the way you do, but you’re always embarrassed by it the second he leaves. 

You reach your door and smile up at him. “Thanks, Lo.”

He gives you a soft smile, his eyes wrinkling endearingly at the corners. He reaches up and brushes some hair off your shoulder. There’s a certain shift in his expression that has your breath stopping short. Whatever else you were going to say to him tumbles off into an incomprehensible whisper. 

He leans down and every inappropriate thought you’ve ever had about him suddenly surges to the front of your mind. Your lips part in anticipation, thinking he’s going to kiss you and your fantasies are going to come to life. 

His lips brush against your cheek so gently you almost don’t feel them. “‘Night Flux,” he leans back and your body goes with him. He backs off with a smile, walking down the hall to his own room. You feel dazed, eyelashes fluttering rapidly as you fan your cheeks and try to come to terms with what just happened.

He didn’t kiss you, but you oddly aren’t disappointed. You go to bed that night with a lovesick grin on your face. Well, you would have. Were it not for the annoyingly British voice ringing out in your head, “Training’s at four tomorrow morning. Consider it your punishment for sneaking out.”

“Fuck,” you hiss to yourself. Stupid fucking telepaths. 

You thought the arcade was a one-off moment. But Logan keeps sneaking you out of the mansion. Charles hasn’t officially lifted the house arrest, but he’s given up trying to keep you inside. Besides, you’ve essentially got a chaperone since Logan is always with you. 

You make lunch for the two of you and he’ll take you out to the woods for a picnic. Or you’ll go to the movies together. Sometimes you don’t even do anything, just linger around each other. You enjoy the company, and you love having these quiet moments together with no one else around. 

Your favorite part of all of this has to be the way he’s started touching you. He’s always got a hand on your leg or back. And if he can’t do that, then you’re tucked into his side. It’s feeding into a starved part of you that you’ve left neglected for far too long. 

It’s only been about two weeks of these fun little adventures and odd behavior. You’re dreading the moment they’ll stop. You’re not sure when Logan’s going to deem you properly cheered up, but you’re hoping it’s not anytime soon. 

There have been a few more moments where you think your friendship might turn into something more, and every time you’ve been interrupted. You’re actually starting to feel a little edged. You’ve been considering just grabbing him and planting one on him. But every time you think about it you get sick to your stomach. 

You don’t want to make a move on him and end up getting rejected. You know he’s just being a good friend and taking care of you so you don’t end up spiraling too far in your head. It’s happened before, when you’ve been struggling with your abilities. He’s just keeping you from shutting down again and you don’t want to make him uncomfortable because you’re hopelessly in love. 

When you walk out of your room this morning you’re immediately smacked in the face. “What the fuck, guys?” You yell at the two kids running past your room. Not the best language for someone who's supposed to be a role model. You can’t be bothered though, not when they’re running around throwing pink rolls of streamer at your face. 

“Sorry!” Mary calls over her shoulder, laughing as she pins a heart up onto the wall. You’re sure Charles won’t appreciate the hole in his old ass mahogany wood. It’s only as you watch her run down the stairs that you register just what is going on. 

There is pink and red everywhere. It looks like Dollar Store Cupid has thrown up all over the mansion. You’ve been so caught up in your attraction to Logan that, ironically, you’ve forgotten what month it was. 

You grumble bitterly to yourself as you trudge down the stairs. Another Valentine’s Day alone and single. How lovely. You spot two kids giggling to themselves by the banister, they lean in like they’re going to kiss and you gag. “Hey!” You snap, and they jump apart, eyes wide with fear. “Quit it, get out of here.” They scramble off and you feel just a little bit vindicated. 

“Not a fan of young love, Flux?”

You groan and roll your eyes, turning around to find a very smug Scott watching you bully teenagers. “Shut it, Summers,” you warn. You point an accusing finger at him and he raises his hands in surrender. Faux innocence played across his insufferable smirk. “When you’re in a committed relationship, you don’t get to judge me.”

His brows turn down in confusion, “Wait, but aren’t you and Logan-”

He’s cut off by the sound of a loud crash down the hall. You both turn around just as one of the classroom doors slams open. A bright pink explosion hurtles from the doors and a throng of coughing students follows. 

Jubilee walks out a minute later, a guilty expression on her face. “Sorry, I was just trying to make it more Vanetine-y.” 

You glance over at Scott, grinning widely at him while you pat his shoulder and walk past him, leaving him to clean up the mess. “Enjoy the young love, Summers.”

You actively avoid Logan all day. You’re already facing constant reminders of how lonely you are. You see kids walking around with baskets of bears and chocolates. Or you catch them passing notes in class with scribbled hearts all over the front. 

There’s only so much a girl can take before she loses it. The last thing you need is to be faced with the man you have the worst unrequited crush on in history. But he doesn’t seem to get the hint. He’s everywhere you go, popping up around corners and trying to catch your attention. 

You keep brushing him off and pretending like you have something urgent you’re going to be late for. Eventually, though, he was going to catch up with you. 

It happens in the kitchen. Most of the kids are in their rooms or the library. The noise has died down and you’re alone. You grumble to yourself, ripping down a pink streamer that keeps drifting across the top of your head and pissing you off. You grab a frozen meal from the fridge and are about to microwave it when he speaks. 

“Huh, thought you’d want something a little more romantic than a frozen burrito.” 

You gasp, clutching your chest and whirling around on him while your heart races. “Logan, Jesus, you scared me.” He’s frowning at you, eyes glaring at the frozen package in your hand. “Um,” you toss it back in the freezer but the look on his face isn’t going away. “Yeah, I might just go with cereal instead.”

He looks at you and then glances behind him. You peer around his shoulder but you don’t see anything. Without much warning, he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards the stairs. “Logan?” There’s no point in trying to resist him, he could just toss you up the stairs if he wanted to. Still, the silence is kind of creeping you out. 

You call his name a few more times but give up when he makes it clear he’s not going to be answering you anytime. There’s a rotten feeling in your stomach. You have this awful idea like you’re in trouble for something. Like a little girl who's gotten her hand caught in the cookie jar too many times. 

He stops you in front of his door and nods towards it. “You want me to go inside?” He crosses his arms and glares down at you. You huff and mutter, “Jesus, fine.” What the hell is wrong with him?

You grab the doorknob to his room, glaring at him while you do. You throw the door open dramatically, taking a step inside and surveying the area. “Wow,” you suck your teeth and shake your head. “You have not decorated at all.”

“Shut up, smartass,” he mutters in your ear. Chills prick at your skin from his proximity. A shudder goes down your spine as the low tone of his voice reverberates through you. “Look a little harder.”

You roll your eyes but acquiesce. Another run over the room finally shows you what you missed. You gasp and rush towards his bed, “Holy shit, Bart!” He chuckles behind you as you pick the stuffed pigeon up. 

“Went back for him after we left,” Logan tells you. 

You glare at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. “How many tries did this take you?” He mouths a smug one and you roll your eyes in irritation. You look back down at the pigeon and smile.

He smells like the inside of a claw machine. His head is sewed on crookedly and you’re pretty sure he’s missing an eye. But he’s absolutely perfect to you. You’re about to thank Logan when you spot something metal wrapped around the stuffie’s neck. “What’s this,” you mumble to yourself. 

You slide your fingers under the chain and tug it off Bart’s neck. Logan’s dog tags dangle off your fingers and you stare at him in shock. A sudden cold dread washes over you and you find yourself immobile. “Logan,” you trail off, an unspoken question following his name. 

He smirks, walking towards you and slipping the tags out of your hand. “I wanted you to have this,” he says, his voice low like this moment is too precious to break, “so you know you’re not alone. You’re always so afraid of what’s going to happen if you lose control out in the field. But you forget, you’re not alone. You have me, you’re always going to have me.” He places the tags over your neck, untucking your hair from the chain. 

You don’t even have words for him. It’s such a deeply personal gift. But this also feels incredibly intimate. There’s no possible way for you to reason this away. This isn’t something “just friends” do. 

He seems to prefer your silence, anyway. One of his hands drifts from your neck and cups your jaw. With the utmost tenderness, he lifts your face to his. “Wanted to do this for a while,” he whispers. You almost ask what he’s talking about, but his lips are already covering yours. 

It’s incredibly soft, this kiss, softer than you’re used to. He’s barely putting any pressure on you and it makes you realize that you’re still not moving. You’re just standing there in shock, eyes wide open while the man you’ve wanted since you’ve known him kisses you. 

You drop Bart to the floor and your arms come up to twine around his neck. You finally close your eyes, let your body melt into his knowing he’ll catch you. The second you reciprocate he really kisses you. Neither of you hold back, each of you pouring all the pent-up desire you’ve felt for each other. 

You’ve spent so long dancing around this, around each other. It’s like a missing puzzle piece is returned to you as Logan holds you. You feel full, complete, warmer than you ever have before. 

You part from him - needing air - painfully slow. You don’t want to spend a second away from him now that you have him. You wish you didn’t have to breathe. Wished you could have kept kissing him and never stopped. 

Logan chuckles, pressing a kiss against your forehead like he can read your thoughts. You can feel the dorky smile that’s about to split your cheeks. You bite your lip, hoping it might suppress it, but you know it’s pointless. 

You look up at him with a cheeky twinkle in your eye. “Are you asking me to be your Valentine, Lo?”

He scoffs and pulls away from you slightly. “Do you have to ask your girlfriend to be your Valentine?”

Your eyes widen and your mouth opens and closes rapidly. “I- Well- I mean,” you take a full step back from him and shake your head. “What?” You finally settle on. “I mean, I’m not objecting, at all, but what?”

Logan tilts his head, a disbelieving look on his face. “What do you think we’ve been doing the past three weeks?”

You shake your head, stuttering and struggling for an answer. “I don’t know. I thought you were being a good friend!”

He smiles, there’s no irritation on his face at your cluelessness. If anything he seems to be more endeared to you. “You think I take all my friends on romantic picnics in the woods?”

You sigh, letting out a long disappointed breath. You can’t believe you’ve been so blind. When you think about it, his behavior lately makes a lot more sense. You’re not sure how you were able to trick yourself for so long. 

“Well,” you start, walking back towards him as he pulls you into a hug, “certainly not Scott.” He huffs and shakes his head. You give him a sheepish smile, brows knitted together. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating this whole time.”

He just presses another kiss to your temple and shrugs. “It’s alright, sweetheart, you can make it up to me by being my Valentine again next year.”

There’s something unspoken in his voice. A promise that he’s planning to be around for a lot longer than a year. You smile at him, silently promising the same. “Only if you’re mine.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

a/n: i’m gonna gag actually. Made myself cringe there at the end. I want a valentine next year so bad, it’s sad. But what’s the point of a valentine if it’s not going to be Logan?

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

dividers by @/thecutestgrotto

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Lying

One day, Billy realizes he can just lie. To press, to the JL (only when they really ask about his identity), and to world. And the best part is that almost no one can prove him wrong, because what’s Black Adam or someone else going to do? Prove him wrong? (I kinda already talked about this but meh) Like here’s something I can see Billy maybe doing because one time and one time alone, a reporter asked and he quotes:

Reporter: “Captain, I’m sure many people are speculating, and I’m sure it’s a question asked often, but who is your Missus Marvel?” *holds mic to Billy’s face*

Marvel: “…Huh?” *Has confused expression* “Can you repeat that?”

Reporter: “Who is your Missus Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uh… Ma’am, there is no—” *Does air quotes* “—Missus Marvel.”

Reporter: “Then who is the mother of Captain Marvel Junior and Mary Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uuuuh… Me? Technically? They’re both made from parts of me, but not parts *gestures to his lower region* of me, no.” *He shook his head.* “If I remember correctly Mary was made about 10000 years ago when one of my arms were chopped off. (He’s lying through his teeth right now. The only reason he hasn’t been caught is because of Achilles allowing him to bullshit his was through without blinking.)

Reporter: “I- I see.” *stunned*

Marvel: “And then Junior’s a…” *snorts* “…leg.” *Muffles a laugh into his hand not realizing no one will get his joke besides Freddy and Mary*

Reporter: *confused by Billy laughing but doesn’t say anything* “Interesting… Are Mary Marvel and Marvel Junior your only children? Spawn? Wards?”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah. I could more though. Like, watch this.” *Literally breaks off his ring finger, splintering the bone and everything without a single flinch. Then drops the finger on the ground and it morphs into what looks like a four year old Marvel. Billy picks him up and holds him like a parent would their toddler.* “It’s super easy.” *He’s even doing the slight bouncing that parents do when they hold their kids.* “But I don’t know… now that I’m holding this one, I’m starting to get attached. We might keep him.” *looks down at the mini Marvel, who in turn looks back at him.*

Reporter: *still horrified she watched a man, if he even is one, snap one of his fingers off like nothing. Said man’s finger nub is also still exposed to the world in all its disgusting glory. Safe to say she’s looking a little green* “O- Oh really?”

Marvel: *moves Mini Marvel around in his grip, and then suddenly throws the toddler like a paper airplane. Thankfully, instead of falling on the ground and splattering like meat pie, Mini Marvel takes to the skies is flying over the nearby crowd and such. Marvel turns back to the reporter.* “Yeah, but before that happens, he’ll have to develop a consciousness and personality. It took a bit for Mary and Junior to develop their own. Now they have their own likes, dislikes, and feelings. Who knows how long it’ll take the little guy.” (Again, he’s bullshitting this completely. He’s mishmashing Solomon’s wisdom on golems with things he makes up on the fly)

Reporter: “That’s… amazing.” *looks greener now. Looks to cameraman and motions for him to cut the feed. As soon as he does, her hand moves to her mouth.* “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” *runs over to nearest trashcan*

Marvel: “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” *starts to float off the ground* “Thanks for having me, miss!” *Marvel then whistles and Mini Marvel immediately stops entertaining the crowd and flies over to Billy and they fly off into the sunset.*

Elsewhere… Mary’s working an odd job for some money when she sees a tv on the news channel. She nearly has a heart attack because for three brief seconds she thought her dad was holding a young Billy in his arms like he used to. Then she blinked a couple times and realized it was just Billy as Marvel with four year old dressed like him. Fawcett kids really love Captain Marvel, huh?

(Oh yeah, and as for how he made Mini Marvel, he’s my hypothesis. When he broke off his finger, he destabilized its form and it reverted back to a part of living lightning for a brief couple of moments. Then, in an effort to not return back to the rock, as it could sense part of itself still nearby, it stabilized itself once more and forced itself to take the form of a miniature Marvel) (and if anyone makes sense of that, I’ll be darned)

[awearywritersworld]

"do you like me?" "nope."

gojo satoru x reader summary: even yuuji realizes that gojo has a crush on you, but you're oblivious as ever w/c: 1.1k tags/warnings: ft. yuuji and megumi. fluff. super light angst. lots of banter. a lil mutual pining. yuuji and gojo being chaotic. gender neutral reader. a/n: not sure how this turned out, but it was fun to write! masterlist check out my latest work for gojo here

"(l/n)-sensei!!"

you're trying to relax and really, fifteen minutes is all you want, but these days that seems impossible.

you turn your head toward the sparring field just in time to see yuuji fly into a tree about 30 yards away. megumi is already on the ground struggling to get up.

meanwhile gojo is prancing, literally prancing, in the opposite direction. you walk toward the group with a mixture of annoyance and disappointment playing across your features, all your hope for some peace and quiet crushed.

"that was awesome!" the pink haired boy shouts from amid a mess of leaves and branches.

gojo gushes over the praise, his hands pressing against his cheeks. "thank you, yuuji! it's nice to know someone around here appreciates my unmatched strength."

"i don't remember offering to be a part of the demonstration," megumi grumbles, finally rising to his feet.

his demeanor is less than pleased and you glance at him sympathetically before turning to gojo. "you do know that you're an adult, right? like, as in, a fully grown man."

"(y/n)-chaaaaan, you're always so mean to me," he whines, grabbing your hands dramatically. "what have i done to deserve such cruel treatment?"

"today or in general?" you pretend to think for a second. "i seem to remember you waking me up at seven this morning so that you didn't have to go to your meeting with masamichi-san alone-"

"he was mad at me for skipping the last one i had!"

"-and then you hid my phone for almost an hour because i wouldn't give you my last candy bar-"

"i was starving, (y/n)-chan! it wasn't my fault, you know that!"

"-and then you destroyed that tree, which i really happened to like by the way."

his gaze flickers toward that direction, the splintered wood a sad remnant of what it used to be, then throws his arms in the air. "this is so unfair!"

"(l/n)-sensei! did you see?" yuuji calls out, already fully recovered and bounding toward you.

"i sure did." you chuckle at his tattered clothes and unfazed attitude.

"what'd ya think?"

you really can't bring yourself to scold him, not with all the excitement in his voice. "oh, it was certainly something."

"did you hear that, gojo-sensei?" yuuji lights up.

megumi disguises his laugh with a cough. "i don't think that was a compliment."

the boy visibly deflates so you ruffle his hair. "it was pretty cool, i just don't want you getting hurt." that earns a grin, to your relief.

"so i get yelled at, but you're nice to him?" gojo pouts indignantly.

"yes."

"ugh! this is killing me, (y/n)-chan!" he announces before promptly knocking you to the ground, the action something between a hug and a tackle.

"gojo, get off of me!" you yell, though there's a hint of laughter in your voice.

"i can't! not until you forgive me!"

your giggles ring through the air, music to gojo's ears, and your hands push him away as he tries to tickle your sides. you look like two kids, rolling around in the grass and shouting at one another.

yuuji leans in toward megumi, his voice hushed as if he's about to reveal the world's biggest secret. "i'm starting to think there's something going on between those two."

his friend looks at him as if he's grown a second head. "you're just now noticing?"

~~~

you're making dinner in your apartment while gojo sits on the kitchen floor, his legs splayed out and taking up nearly half of the small room. his blindfold had been discarded at one point or another, something he made a habit of doing when it was just the two of you.

"what are we having tonight, chef?"

"me? i'm having braised chicken thighs. i'm not sure about you though," you tease.

you didn't invite him to dinner, he just kind of followed you back to your place after sparring practice. you don't really mind, you never do, not that you'd ever admit it out loud.

"you wouldn't give me your candy bar and now you won't have dinner with me either? today is the worst! is this still about the tree? i told you i was sorry-"

"geez i was just kidding!" you cut him off. "of course you can have some, but only if you get the flour off the top shelf for me."

"i guess that's a fair trade," he reasons, rising to his feet lazily.

the cabinet is just to your left, so his body presses into yours as he reaches up, the contact making your heart flutter.

"thanks," you exhale when he sets it down within your reach.

he doesn't return to his sitting position, just leans against the counter and watches you carefully stir the ingredients in the pan.

"do you like me?" he inquires suddenly.

"nope."

"hm, do you like like me?" he suggests, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"gojo, that's honestly defamatory."

he rolls his eyes playfully. "c'mon, be serious."

"you be serious," you challenge the usually facetious man.

"i am."

resting your spoon on the pan, you turn to face him, unsure if he's just messing with you like always. the room is silent, save for the faint popping of oil, as he waits for you to say something.

"why do you wanna know?"

"'cause i like you, why else?"

your hands gather the fabric of your apron nervously, crumpling it between your fingers while you avoid his gaze. his words strike you as entirely implausible. after all, he's gojo and you're, well, you.

"you... you shouldn't joke about stuff like that."

he laughs at you and it breaks your heart a little, but then you feel two lithe hands on either side of your face. "(y/n), look at me."

you do, albeit apprehensively, and his eyes bore into your own with an intensity you aren't familiar with. it makes your knees feel weak. a smile tugs at his lips before they capture your own, the movement slow and soft.

your fingers reach up to wrap around his wrist, an attempt to steady yourself against him, before one of his hands travels down to your hip and gives it a light squeeze.

you taste so sweet, feel so perfect in his hands, that gojo kicks himself for waiting so long to kiss you. his lips move to the corner of your mouth, across your cheek, then begin to work their way up your jaw. he hums against your skin, satisfied with the breathy noises he's pulling from your throat.

then, the smell of burning invades your senses and you pull away from each other with wide eyes, exclaiming in unison. "the food!"

[bambiesfics]

Cock in a Gloryhole - Ellie x reader

𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ public sex, reader deepthroating Ellie’s cock (strap-on), Ellie cums untouched, Ellie yearns for readers lips, very hyper-sexual descriptions. Ellie’s strap is almost exclusively referred to as a cock/dick/etc, pining, missed connection. This is a filthy fic.

Ellie’s a slutty gay and very judgmental.

!!! [please help palestine] !!!

kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.

Ellie slid her converse off of the toilet handle. The brazen girl fished for her pants’ zipper. She held her cock in one hand, and fought with the zipper with the other. The cheap metal wasn’t fastening over the straps on her hips, it was catching on her harness. “Jesus fuck. Now? Seriously?”

She rolled her eyes and smoothed her bangs down. After a few beats, the bored brunette circled the stall, then slumping against the chipped navy door. Cock in hand, balls barely zipped up. She chuckled to herself, there was probably some stupid fucking metaphor for that out there somehwere. She wasn’t going to step out like that, with the veins of her dick saying “hi” over her half zipped pants? Fuck. No. It wasn’t in the cards. But the zip wasn’t budging. Ellie felt a scowl forming; The kid was pissed. She didn’t have time for this, not now. Not when there was a gorgeous service teller at the center that she’d been mentally undressing for the better part of her visit. A woman who belonged on her knees, in front of Ellie. A woman with the perfect mouth to suck dick clean. Ellie toe’d her converses on the dirty grout lines hatch marked across the tile floor. The repetition of it lulled her into a meditation as she contemplated how to escape this awkward mess she somehow tripped headfirst into. Getting into awkward shit like this was her forté, but the benefits of packing far outweighed the headaches.

The stall next to her swung open, the clacking heels were rhythmic and sharp. Feminine little steps. A woman sat down, and did her business as she hummed. Ellie scaled her eyes along the bathroom wall that separated her and the lady. The wall was grotty. Old and well worn from years of servicing and decades of business. The maintenance was abysmal on its best day, and it made for a pleasant surprise when Ellie’s eyes zero’d in on the hole carved out haphazardly. There were still pieces of drywall sticking out past the lament of duck tape all around the hole. Ellie chuckled grimily, just high enough that the woman paused her rustling once the realization that she wasn’t alone had settled. The prick-fucking developers who were responsible for this project definitely forgot to remodel this bathrooms stalls’ when they added a new male bathroom to the bottom floor of the building. The little glory hole had a glaring missing chunk of ‘wall’ from its separation of the two stalls, and it’d had that for years from the looks of it. It had a bunch of old thin splinters of amber oak and drywall sticking out. The eyesore pointed to the empty hole like a pair of flashing neon arrows pointing to a seedy Las Vegas strip club.

Ellie doubted it got used much, if at all. If any of the prissy women who sat down to release themselves understood why there was a giant fucking hole the size of a two baseballs stacked vertically in their bathroom stall. Nah, Ellie mused. They definitely just kept their gaze straight ahead if they noticed anything amiss. A prim attempt at respecting the other woman’s privacy. Except, the irony was in the fact that, the point of that hole carved in the wall, the hole yelling “FUCK ME,” was to trample all over another stranger’s privacy. To proclaim yourself a king with a heavy cock and see if they’d submit to it.

Ellie stroked her cock, squeezing the base then working her way to the tip, warming it up in her hands. She unzipped the rest of her pants, and let the balls spring free. The balls dropped a little past the zipper, it took the edge off the pressure in her leather jeans. Mmm, now this felt right.

She took a tentative step forward, debating her next step. But then she rolled her anxiety off her back. Undulating those fast twitch muscles that lined her back to stretch and warm, to relax. It wasn’t that serious. Call it “part of the plot,” call it whatever you want. But what Ellie wanted to do was going to be insanely amusing. She needed the amusement if she was gonna be stuck here until her zipper decided to cooperate. Ellie’s converses padded to the wall, it’s toe box lined up with the bottom of it. Nosing against the edge. She lined up her cock with the glory hole and slowly fed the hole inches of her cock, until she bottomed out and her balls were trapped between her hairy pelvis and the wall. She held her breath. Her palms scaled the wall. The woman on the other side gasped, Ellie could only imagine how she clutched her hand to her chest and scrambled to pull her bag up over her shoulder. Ready to run to building security and report the “creep” in the ladies bathroom stall. The creep was Elizabeth “I <3 pussy” Williams with her cock fucking a glory hole. This would make for a hilarious prank to joke about with Jessie later. Jesse would think Ellie was bustin’ his balls, making up some new lie to fuck with his head. And she’d revel in the way his face would drain of colour once he realized she wasn’t.

Ellie grasped the base of her cock and lifted it up a little bit, practically taunting “yoohoo!” With the motion. Letting her heavy shaft say “hi” to the poor woman who was facing it head-on. She grinned again, and prepared herself to tuck her dick back in her pants like a good boy and behave.

But then she heard clothes rustling, and the tug she felt on her harness made her eyes fly open. Her heart rate picked up. Blood was rushing in Ellie’s head. She didn’t actually expect a sweet lady to open up her lips and suck her off. But the eager lips on the other side, started sucking her cockhead before she could process it. The woman bubbled saliva onto Ellie’s tip to aid in the lubrication. Then the lady sucked Ellie’s fat cock in all the way to the hilt, until her nose bumped the soft skin shove Ellie’s groin. All that could be seen were puffy red lips and the tip of the girl's nose. But it made Ellie fucking sprung. Her mind was clouded with raging lust as the moans of “…fuck baby..” whimpered from Ellie’s lips. The rest of the sentence would’ve concluded with “…I didn’t expect you to actually blow me.” If Ellie could think straight.

The girl on the other side of the stall was enthusiastic to have cock in her mouth. She was sucking up and down Ellie’s full length. Using her sloppy saliva to help her lips slide up and down the length. Ellie shoved her pelvis into the wall until both of her hip bones were bruised and beat grinding against the wall. She was greedy to feel more suction. Ellie’s chubby cock had a puffy head, and a fat veiny shaft. Her cock was the color of obsidian, just like Ellie’s harness. And her wrinkly fat balls held her squishy testes. The ones she forced all girls to palm for reality’s sake. For all intents and purposes; this was Ellie’s fucking cock. And so she could feel it when the woman on the other side gagged on her dick so eagerly, it was as if she was desperate for Ellie to paint her throat in warm cum.

Ellie started moaning the more she heard the woman on the other side gag on her. She could just imagine the way her dick was creating an imprint in her throat, sliding down and bulging. Ellie was large, she’d seen her do that to a girl before. She couldn’t help but whimper at the image of a sweet girl impaling her dainty throat around Ellie’s thick piece, in a seedy business bathroom. God what a beautiful fucking piece of ass must on the other side of the stall. A girl with the lips of a killer, sloppy and greedy. Hungry to suck off a creep. Probably with a perfect vagina to match; a hole just as sloppy, just as greedy. A hole only fit for a King to thrust into. Good thing Ellie thought of herself as a King too. Ellie decided, as she watched your red lips deepthroat her length, that the very moment the girl on her knees was done digging her tongue into Ellie’s cock slit, she’d knock down the door of the stall you were in, and ram into your glossy pussy over the toilet. You would coat Ellie’s cock in the sticky saliva held inside your puffy little hole too. Two sets of lips for Ellie to abuse.

Ellie bit her fist to prevent herself from choking out a moan. God. You popped your lips off, and stroked up Ellie’s dick with your little fist. Up and down and up and down, before you put it back in your mouth to deepthroat one more time. You wanted to nose against the pale girl's skin again, feel her bush tickle the tip of your nose. Smell the soft patch of hair, the salt of her skin. The sexy art of her bush and happy trail. Ellie yelled out a hoarse “Fuck-k!” And you could tell she came. She soaked her black Klein boxers. Maybe she came from those eager motions grinding her harness against her swollen pink clit. Or maybe she came untouched, hole spasming scarily just because of how aroused Ellie was by you. You placed a gentle kiss on her cockhead with your red lips. Ellie bit down her fist, hard. She broke skin, and drew blood.

If you could’ve, you would’ve loved to have Ellie’s real cum dribbling down your tongue instead. You stood up to pull your panties flush against your plump cunt. Finished with your prior business. There was slick dripping in between all of your puffy folds, and you knew your panties would stay wet the entire rest of the day from just the way they were suctioned to your cunt alone.

You stepped out to wash your hands, heels clacking with an air of comportment. You waited for the girl whose cock you inhaled, to come out of the stall and address you. But she never came. Her back was pressed against the wall. Instead she slid down to collect herself. So you fixed your blouse, hid your cleavage, touched up your smeared lipstick after rubbing it all off on Ellie, and massaged your nipples so they wouldn’t poke so prominently through your blouse. You shimmied in your tight skirt and clacked out of the bathroom. Leaving the girl hiding in the stall, to catch her breath and will the staccato of her heartbeat away. Ellie wasn’t new to coming untouched, but coming from the visuals and motion of a stranger sucking her cock clean? That — that was a new one. She gulped and adjusted her boxers, because fucking Christ, they were heavily soaked from her own slick. With shaky hands the pale girl fished for her leather pants zipper. Pleading with the bitchy, cheap, metallic hardware over and over, until it finally pulled all the way up.

A rapid river of relief washed over Ellie, she couldn’t afford to be stuck in there anymore. Ellie stumbled out of the washroom, hoping to find you. She snapped her head back and forth, then stumbled around in circles trying to catch a flash of sloppy red lips. She thought of going to people and asking if they’d seen a lady with puffy red lips strut by. But then thought better of it. The idea sounded dumb as rocks, even to her own horned-out brain. Ellie rubbed her cock through her pants, feeling phantom sucks from memory. You were burned in her brain, forget the cute teller from earlier. You were her new Madonna, her new whore.

In your honour, she’d stroke her g-spot to a hot strap blowjob video tonight, to keep the memory of your filthy cocksucking mouth fresh.

Ellie hoped if there ever was a next time in that glory hole for her, that you’d line your little greedy hole right up in front of the glory hole in the stall, so Ellie could make you drip your cream down her cock. She’d love to pull her dick out of you, just to marvel at the beautiful rings of milk wrapped around her veiny shaft from your own sopping cunt. Ellie savored the idea of the screams she’d rip out of you, the cries and pleads you’d wail for her ears only. She’d rip you apart, and that would be the fucking cherry on top of her fucking birthday cake.

If she got the cake, she’d love to write “Ellie ‘Hung’ Williams” on the face of it just for shits.

[turtleblogatlast]

❕Rise comic spoilers❕

I am very unwell about alternate Leo.

[ cw: death / parental death / family death / implied traumatic experience / ]

I am going to be fervently talking at length about the fact that Leo mentioned he was sent bouncing across the universe and was missing for months. Like- at the time, Leo most likely would have been anywhere from 16-19 when an accident by his own weapons forced him into isolation.

He already knew his dad was deathly ill too, so how much more desperate was he to get back home, knowing he was on a timer? Moreover, what if Splinter held off on passing on for as long as he could, waiting for Leo to return, only to inevitably be unable to hold on any longer?

How did the others feel, as they were forced to grieve their father while their brother was who knows where? Hell, considering this is Leo - the one who already went through the Prison Dimension, who was already in a place his family couldn’t easily reach - how traumatic was it for all of them?

And god, Leo. What did he go through, all throughout the universe? What horrors did he come across? How lonely was he, so far away from home? For so long? At best, there’s some time dilation, and he himself didn’t realize months of time were passing - but even then, his wording implies at least some instances of him being physically somewhere else that he knew was very far away, so at the very least…he had to endure some time isolated from his loved ones.

It’s also interesting how the good future’s Leo still has the same (top surgery) plastron scars that bad future Leo does. I’d say things are destined to repeat, but his arms seem fine! We don’t get a good look at his shell or legs though, so it’s very possible one or both of those has an injury. Can’t imagine he doesn’t have much to show after being alone in the vast universe for potentially months on end as a teenager.

At least present Leo didn’t have to go through this, but…we don’t know what was up with his portals. We don’t know if it’ll still happen at some point. At least he got to say goodbye to his dad, but is he safe? The implications are harrowing.

This poor kid. This poor family just can’t catch a break.

[tblsomedoodles]

Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

[revelboo]

Your content is literally so good-- I'm seeing a lot of earthspark sprinkled in and so I throw my hat into the ring for some earthspark soundwave if you've got any ideas. He's so...aggressive and those curves can not go to waste. Peak slaying content

He is quite lovely…

Son Of A Gun

TF Earthspark Soundwave x Reader

• When you find the thing in the woods at the edge of your property, it’s damaged and you think it’s a kid’s toy. A toy that probably costs more than you make in a month considering it’s your size with cannily made joints and clever wings. A giant drone shaped like a bird. Smiling, you head back to the barn to find the wheelbarrow and steer it back down the hill into the woods, leaves and sticks noisy under your boots as you end up tipping the wheelbarrow on its side and awkwardly shoving the thing in. Righting the wheelbarrow after is even more of a struggle before you finally get it back up and you’re exhausted by the time you get back to the barn with your find. Something this expensive has to have GPS, so you’re sure its owner will come looking for it. Until then, you want to mess with it.

• Growling to himself as he picks his way through the woods, branches scratching at his plating, Soundwave tries to get a lock on Lazerbeak’s location. Ever since arriving on Earth, he and Frenzy have been more independent, relying on him less and less. No longer needing him and it leaves him feeling aggravated and unsettled. Because he knows that it’s not really that they don’t need him, this distance is because of the accident. Silently punishing him for his failure. But Lazerbeak had pinged him after getting in a fight with two of the terrans. Hurt badly enough to request help and there was no denying him. Because it’s a chance to mend the break between them. To fix things.

• Wrestling to get the drone out of the wheelbarrow, its head lifts, optics glowing. “Frag, you’re going to rip a wing off,” it groans and you backpedal, banging into a toolbox in your retreat. Head tipping to stare at you as you suck in a breath, it shifts. That’s not a drone- it’s one of them. A Cybertronian. An Autobot, though or a Decepticon? “Do you come in peace?” You ask and it’s head swings to stare at you. Maybe trying not to laugh, because that’s not at all what you meant to say, but you’d never been great under pressure.

• “Sure. Whatever,” it mutters, stretching out a wing and groaning. Making you fidget nervously, wanting to help but unsure how to. You can at least make it comfortable you decide, running for the house and grabbing a blanket and a pillow. The look the thing gives you is equal parts disbelief and amusement as you offer it the pillow and it lifts up enough to lay on it with a “Why the frag not,” and lets you drape the blanket around it. “Most of you lot run when you see a Cybertronian. It’s Lazerbeak, by the way.”

• Lazerbeak isn’t where he’s supposed to be. Head turning, he spots the human dwelling on the outskirts of the woods and the open barn. Striding out of the woods, his servos flex. Because if one of those squishy little savages has hurt him, he’s going to enjoy ripping them limb from limb.

• You probably should be booking it as far as possible and calling the cops, you’ve just never seen a real Cybertronian before outside the news. And that’s usually the giant ones duking it out. This one’s not as intimidating and honestly, it’s kind of awesome to be up close and personal with an alien. “You’re not that scary,” you admit, hearing it vent at you in exasperation as you tuck the blanket around it.

• “Heads up, the guy behind you definitely doesn’t come in peace.” He hears Lazerbeak say as he leans down with a snarl. Sees the human standing over his injured cassette and lunges through the too small door, wood splintering. Screaming like he already has his servos around your little neck, you run to the other side of the building, tripping over a pile of extension cords in your terror. Turning to study Lazerbeak sitting in the wheeled contraption in a nest of soft things, he turns his attention back on the human. What were you planning to do to him? Dissect him? Enslave him? “Maybe don’t stomp this one, boss? I’ve always wanted a pet,” Lazerbeak says, wings flapping for balance as he tries to see the human cowering in a corner.

Next

[divinesolas]

Can you write cregan x reader where the cregan's son calls the reader mother for the first time it's very emotional because she hasn't been able to get pregnant.

c.w: inaccurate tl of events, slight angst, fluff, not proofread, drabble !

a.n: this was such a cute little thing to write as i take a break from my more angsty, enemies to lovers slow burn fics 😭😭 tysm for the request <3

Your hands hurt. You’re sure you have probably over ten splinters in your hands, some of your fingers are covered in bandages and you feel like your fingers are stuck in place from how long you had been working on it but it was worth it.

The way his face lit up when you presented it to him for his nameday. He grabbed it from your hands eagerly and held it up closer to his face to admire it. “Its a direwolf!” You bend down to be eye level with the young rickon.

He was not your birth son, you were not cregan’s first wife. Arra was his birth mother who died on her birthing bed, but you met cregan years after he had healed from the loss and he quickly became infatuated with you, asking for your hand and you were married when rickon was five.

You loved the boy like he was your own, you would sit and read to him, you would play with him when cregan was too busy. He was adorable, having rickon in your life made you want to have more kids. It had been a struggle, its been over a year since you and cregan have been trying for a child and nothing.

You cried a lot, whenever you would leave the checkups from the maesters and shake your head it breaks your heart too see cregans face. You feel terrible and all you want is to have children. If rickon is truly the only child you end up having you would be content, as rickon is such a sweet child but your heart did long for more.

“Yes it is, Happy nameday sweetie.” You place your hand affectionately on his cheek and he beams at you, wrapping his arms around your neck. “Thank you mama.”

You freeze as you feel him grinning into your neck. mama. He’s never called you that before. He knows you're not his mother, He has always just called your name, or at least he tried to, coming up with a strange combination of sounds. But never anything paternal.

You feel you eyes well up with tears as you wrap your arms around him tightly, pressing a kiss into his curly hair. “I love you.” “I love you too mama.”

You look up at the door when it opens, seeing cregan look upon to the two of with alarm at your tear covered face. “Is something wrong?”

Rickon escapes your grip and turns to his father with a grin, obviously to the amount of joy he’s caused you, holding up the wooden toy you had hand carved. “Look what mama gave me!”

Cregan looks at you and takes a deep breath, “Yes it is wonderful, have you thanked your mama?” “yes papa, can i go play?” Cregan nods and rickon turns to you, giving you a wave before he runs out the room with a giggle.

You sniffle as cregan comes to sit on the floor next to you. “He calls you mama.” You laugh as a smile graces your face, “I am so happy, i love him like he is my own.” Cregan cups your face and brushes your tears off your face. “One day we will have more i promise you.”

“You say that as if it is your fault.” “You believe it to be yours?” “Why would it not be my fault? The baby would sit in my womb, it is nobodies fault other than my own.” He presses one of his palms against your stomach and kisses your cheek. “We will keep trying my love.”

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eleven

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

2K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Warnings: Horny (no smut, not yet), negative views of poly relationships (not my own views)

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

"What the hell are you doing?!"

Lando and Oscar had tried to be polite, tried to be normal about things. They went to the front door, knocked, and waited for it to be opened.

He had to make things right, Lando knew. He had to fix things with her before he inevitably made things worse.

While they were waiting for the door to open, they heard a noise. Both boys knew they wouldn't have picked up on it if they weren't... you know. But they both heard it, clear as day. "What the fuck?" Lando hissed as he looked at Oscar.

The front door opened as they disappeared around to the back of the house. "Hello?" They heard Mr Wolff call as he peered out into the night. He muttered something, something that sounded like damned kids.

But neither Lando nor Oscar were too concerned with what Toto Wolff had to say. No, they got to her window and immediately knew what was wrong.

"Seriously, what the fuck!" Lando shouted as they stared up at her, hanging from the window.

She tried to get some sort of grip on the wall, tried to find some sort of crevice to place her foot on, but there was nothing. "Don't worry about it. Can one of you just climb up here and help me?"

In the blink of an eye, Oscar was in her bedroom. Lando climbed up the tree but Oscar wrapped his arms around her and hoisted her up and back into the bedroom. "What on earth were you doing?" He asked as he pulled her inside and gently set her back on her feet. Immediately he had a hold of her hand, checking for any splinters or anything.

She shrugged her shoulders, stepping out of the way for Lando to climb his way in. "You guys disappeared out of the window and I wanted to follow," she mumbled as she folded her arms and sat on her bed.

In defeat, Oscar held his hand up. She was being as stubbornly annoying as Lando, but at least Lando had an excuse.

But Lando was just standing there, hands in his pocket, not saying anything. God, it was so damn exhausting. Oscar released a sigh and threw his head back. If left up to the two of them, nothing was going to get fixed.

"Lando has something he wants to say," he said as he leaned against the desk, arms crossed over his chest.

Lando sucked in a breath. He squeezed his eyes shut, nails digging into his palms. "I..."

The words died on his tongue. I'm sorry. It was so simple, two little words and he would be done. Why wasn't he saying it? The way she was looking at him, so ready to forgive him, but Lando just couldn't see it.

He was so damn infuriating.

Oscar released an exhausted sigh. "Lando probably should explain how the full moon affects people like him. He should probably explain to you that he's dealing with heightened emotions and that is why he snapped earlier. He got scared by the thought of you leaving and..."

The two of them were looking at him, waiting for him to continue. "AND..." He prompted again, eyes flashing at Lando.

"And... I'm sorry," Lando finally repeated. His gaze dropped to his shoes. "The way I lost it was stupid. I mean, we're adults now and we can drive to see each other and now that you've got us, you can't leave for four years at a time."

A laugh left her lips. She unfolded her arms and stood from her bed. "You got that right," she said and strode towards him, arms wrapping around his neck as she pulled him in closer.

Oscar watched as they, quite literally, kissed and made up. "You guys are something else," he mumbled as Lando leaned back, almost tumbling out of the window. But Oscar was behind him in a second, a steadying hand on his back, keeping the two of them safely inside.

But then they were turning towards him, on him in seconds. Thank God he was strong, steady on his feet and not human. The both of them demanded his attention, and Oscar was only happy to give it.

"Promise me you only snapped because of the full moon?" She mumbled as between kissing Oscar's cheek and neck. Kissing a vampires neck, it was a little funny, wasn't it? His puncture wounds had long since disappeared, not marring his skin like the movies made out it would.

Lando let out a hum, pulling away from Oscar's lips. "Promise," he said, fingers threading through her hair and turning her towards him. "All rational thinking goes out of the window when there's a full moon involved."

Don't tell them about the horny phase. Don't tell them about the horny phase.

He kissed her again, hands cupping her face. The whine it pulled from her was so damn sweet, it had Oscar holding back a shudder. And he wasn't even the one pulling those noises from her. He could only begin to guess the affect it was having on Lando.

But Lando pulled away from her, surprising them both. "Should we continue that date?" He asked, looking from her to Oscar.

The three of them climbed onto the bed. Oscar first, shuffling over to the other side and realising he probably should have just climbed in that side. And then her. She was supposed to climb into the middle, to lay between her two boys.

But she left that space free, left it for Lando. He swallowed thickly as he climbed between the two of them, settling down as Oscar put his arm around his shoulders. This was not going to help stave off the horny phase.

She picked the movie. Head on Lando's chest, she scrolled through her streaming services until she found something old. Another movie Oscar had seen in the cinema, this time in the seventies.

They were both tired, Oscar could tell that much. Maybe it was the way their voices were muffled and barely there. Maybe it was the way their eyes started drooping. But it also could have been the onslaught of yawns.

"You can sleep," he said, squeezing Lando's shoulder.

It wasn't permission; they both knew they didn't need permission, but they fell asleep not long after that. The two of them turned towards him, Lando curled against his side, her wrapping herself around Lando's back like a koala on it's mothers back.

Oscar made the great effort of kissing both of their heads and turned his attention back to the movie. He hadn't seen it since the seventies, hadn't cared to watch it for a second time, but he wasn't going to tell them that.

He watched them, watched as they slept. She gripped Lando's shirt so tight, almost as if she was afraid he'd disappear out of the window again if he let go.

But then the bedroom door opened.

If he'd been concentrating, he would have heard Toto coming. It would have given him time to jump out the window, or hide in the closet. Something so this looked normal. Because this wasn't normal, not even by their standards.

Toto stared at him. He stared at Toto. Like a deer caught in headlights, Oscar could do nothing else but stare. Even when Lando made that slightly distressed noise, he couldn't move to give him any sort of comfort (which was fine, because she moved closer, unconsciously pressing her face into his back).

Toto cleared his throat, but it wasn't loud enough to wake either of them. "I've leave you to it, then," he whispered and pulled the door shut.

His words might have seemed hushed and calm, but he certainly wasn't. But that was a conversation he could have with his daughter the next day. Or maybe the day after, the poor man needed time to process.

***

Let me tell you about the horny phase.

It wasn't a fun horny phase, wasn't sudden bursts of passion that overtook Lando, that led to them falling into the bed and messing up the sheets. No, it had him agitated, an itch under his skin that he couldn't quite scratch.

She wasn't helping, but she didn't know. Like that afternoon, when she was picking out an outfit for their café date. "I'm gonna roast in this," she said, changing out of the old man cardigan she had been wearing as Lando and Oscar climbed through the window.

He released an inhuman noise as she stood in front of her wardrobe, trying to pick something new. But that noise soon turned into a whimper as Oscar grabbed his arm, his free hand touching the back of her neck. "Calm yourself," he cooed.

But Lando was fidgeting, squirming in his seat. "Sweetheart, hurry up and pick something," Oscar called.

"One second," she called back, waving them both off without a care in the world.

She didn't know that Oscar had to climb on top of Lando, pinning him to the bed. Lando squirmed beneath him, seemingly enjoying it. "Stop," Oscar commanded and Lando stilled.

His lips, so sharp and so deadly, were so close to his neck. Lando tipped his head to the side, giving him more access.

He'd never tasted werewolf before. Would it be different to human? His teeth were so close to the skin, close enough to pierce. He touched, teeth grazing him, but Oscar pulled back. No, he couldn't. Not now.

"You're killing me, Lan," he mumbled and pressed his face against his shoulder.

Lando bucked his hips up. Well, as much as he could with Oscar pinning him. It was the smallest bit of satisfaction, but it was enough.

But then she turned around. "Oh," she said as she pulled her shirt down over her chest. "What's... what're we doing, guys?" She asked as she sat down beside them on the bed.

Immediately, Lando was reaching for her. His hand touched her hip before Oscar pulled him back. "C'mon," he said, his grip on Lando so damn tight. "Tell her what's going on."

When you looked at the two of them, it came as something rather unexpected, that Oscar was the one taking charge. But Lando was loving. He was loving it. He grinned as he wrapped his legs around Oscar and tucked his head against his neck. An act, one of innocence.

Oscar simply rolled his eyes. "You know how he was... emotional the other day?" He asked and she nodded. "Well, after the emotions comes the arousal," he explained.

Her eyes went wide. "A horny phase?" She asked quietly, fiddling with her fingers in her lap.

Lando giggled. It was that shrieking giggle she'd heard so many times growing up. But it was so damn unexpected, hearing it then, it that... setting. He reached his hand out again and, this time, Oscar let him.

At first, it was sweet, the way he kissed every single one of her fingers. But then he was nosing at her wrist before attempting to pull her into the two of them.

Oscar rolled away, but he kept one leg over Lando, keeping him from jumping at her. But Lando still lunged. He tried to dart towards her, nearly knocking his head into hers. He would have, too, probably would have knocked them both out if it wasn't for the way Oscar was holding him.

"No, no," she said as she settled on top of him as best she could with Oscar on the other side. "Let him go, I wanna see what he does."

"No way," Oscar answered instantly. But, the moment she pushed him, he rolled away, willingly. "What am I gonna do with the two of you?" He mumbled, his smile incredibly fond for the situation.

But neither of them cared as they sank into each other.

Taglist: @biancathecool

@rewmuslupin

@prettiest-at-the-party

@hellowgoodbye

@minseok-smaus

@formulaal

@darleneslane

@hiireadstuff

@urfavnoirette

@goldenharrysworld

@andydrysdalerogers

@llando4norris

@evlkking

@lilymurphy03

@hollie911

@customsbyjcg-blog

@honethatty12

@nikfigueiredo

@not-nyasa

@nurse-sainz

Series taglist (CLOSED): @cmleitora

@booksandflowrs

@evie-119

@annispamz

@neilakk

@ginsengi

@lighttsoutlewis

@charleslecler

@eviethetheatrefreak

@rbv3rstappen

@vicurious28

@val-writes

@lovecarsgoingvroom

@minmira95

@sophia12345678

@forza-dolce

@lindsayjoy444 (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@eclipedcherry (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@ophleiahome (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@cassielikereading (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@styl1shl1v (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

@ln4norizz (can you let me know if you've been tagged pls? Tumblr says you haven't)

[rocketbirdie]

Weird thing that bothered me about Rebirth and I want to hear other people's thoughts.

Um... Why did they gentrify Gongaga? I can't be the only one who feels cheated by the chummy suburban development vibe in Rebirth.

OG Gongaga is an isolated village deep in a jungle. It's possible to completely miss the first chance to visit, because it's practically unheard of. All the young folks fled to the big city. A reactor blew up and killed most of the inhabitants, leaving the town in a state of decay. The houses are falling apart, the people are desperate, it's derelict and miserable.

An understated theme in the OG is how life is difficult without modern technology. Avalanche sets out to destroy these reactors without considering the consequences for their own futures, thinking "well it won't be easy but i'm sure it'll be fine." Gongaga is the story's way of showing you just how fine everything is going to be— despite being in a lush rainforest, long since violently cut off from Shinra's influence, these people still suffer immensely.

I wanted to see it in hd so bad honestly. The splintered rotting wood, the furskin rugs, the dirty brick walls. The unspoken yet unignorable trauma. The mournful purple twilight that quietly hangs over the whole village. I wanted to see the survivors' spiteful determination to make things work without mako.

Instead we got a squeaky clean Crisis Core rendition of Gongaga, with its down-to-earth upbeat stardew valley soundtrack and generic hard workin' country folk. The houses are like... twice the size i expected them to be. Neat and tidy, no holes in the roofs, no dishevelled interiors. No sign of struggle. Everybody is content at worst.

The reactor may as well have never exploded. Nobody talks about it. We hear some bullshit about Shinra trying to "make amends" or compensate people for the damages, and that's about it. Apparently everybody's just fine with this, because all of the original version's resentment and grief is gone.

Don't even get me started on the barker stationed at the town entrance. "Come experience nature's bounty!" Man... why are we treating it like a goddamn hippy tourist attraction. OG Gongaga would have had someone knock this kid's teeth out.

Idk I'm just sad. The melancholy is what made Gongaga so memorable despite its bump-in-the-road identity. I wish we could have gotten that instead of one big callback to CC.

[goodlucktai]

9, raph and leo?

dialogue prompts

9. “I know, I know it hurts.”

x

When Raph was eight years old, the twins decided they needed their own bedrooms and, like with all other things they had ever decided, they made it everyone else’s problem. As a united front, the two of them had the capacity to wear down a squad of Navy Seals in a manner of days, let alone one overtired single father. 

The campaign for separate bedrooms turned out to be a long con. Donnie had been denied an evil science laboratory by Splinter multiple times, on the grounds of it being dangerous, and Donnie being seven, and evil being bad. But a room of his own could be whatever he wanted, and he wanted a lab. 

It took most of a week for Splinter to discover that the twins were still doubled up in the room that was ostensibly Leo’s while Donnie’s was being used for nefarious purposes, but by then Donnie had installed an electronic lock on the door that he built out of components gutted from old kitchen appliances and was fully ready to die on that hill. 

While Pops and Donnie were locked in a contest of wills that would ultimately go in Donnie’s favor (because Splinter’s achilles heel back then—and even now—was that he thought little turtles at their most sulky and unreasonable were just adorable) Raphie had looked at Leo with a confused frown on his face. 

“How come you went along with it, Lee? You didn’t even get your own room.”

Leo shrugged, bright gold eyes shining with interest as he watched his twin and his father argue back and forth. He was following it carefully, probably ready to join in if it looked like Donnie was going to lose—more engaged than he ever was playing video games or flipping through comics. 

At the time, all Leo said was, “Just wanted to see if I could.”

Raph thought it was because he was a troublemaker, and he maintained that idea up until Mikey—intuitive beyond his years, even as a sweet little six year old—said he figured it was just that Leo’s head went as crazy fast as Donnie’s did, only in ways that didn’t involve breaking and building things. 

A full decade later, Raph knows Mikey was right on the money. Looking back, he sees a kid who was wickedly smart and terribly understimulated. Leo didn’t create trouble for the heck of it, he just liked having problems to solve. He wanted conversations and tricks and puzzles, he needed hoops to jump through like dolphins did on TV, or else he’d get cranky and sneaky. 

Their world became a much simpler, more peaceful place once Leo got his first phone and discovered an online chess app with a leaderboard. 

All this to say, Leo has had a mind for strategy since before he could talk in full sentences. He’s a natural-born leader, and after the failed Krang invasion, he really stepped up and took it seriously. Raph is so proud of him he doesn’t have words big enough to contain the size and shape of it all. It isn’t as hard as he had imagined it would be to let go of the reins and give Leo the room he needs to shine. 

Some days are better than others. For the most part, Leo says jump and his brothers don’t even ask how high, they just shoot for the rafters. Their teamwork is cohesive, as solid as it was when they initially realized their ninpo, and Raph thinks he’d feel sorry for the Shredder if that guy showed his face in their town again. 

But there are also days like today, when Leo says something that Raph’s big brother meter pings as Leo being silly, stirring shit up for lack of better thing to do, and he doesn’t linger on it past that initial knee-jerk impression. 

They’re working with a group of mutants out of Hell’s Kitchen, mutants who are walking the line between vigilantism and outright crime. They’re rough around the edges, but good-natured for the most part. The turtles kept bumping into that other group as they crisscrossed around the city until finally their leader, Old Hob, said, “Why don’t we just get on the same program instead of stepping on each other’s heels?” and a tentative partnership was formed. 

It’s been a week since then, and in that time Raph and his brothers have been firmly adopted by the grown-up mutants, who ask pointed questions about what time they went to bed the night before and whether or not they had a decent breakfast and how their online classes are going. 

“This must be what having overbearing aunties is like,” Donnie said to April on the phone none-too-quietly, and Sally, feline mutant and aforementioned overbearing auntie, knocked her knuckles on his battleshell reprovingly. But that about summed it up. 

There was one spanner in the works, and that was Liam.  

——

“Anyone else getting bad vibes from that guy by the way?” Leo says one day. 

There’s something performative about it, his usual pomp and charisma with a plastic edge. Mikey tilts his head like a service dog who just caught the scent of a potential medical emergency. Donnie looks up from his phone, eyes keen the way they only are when he and his twin are about to communicate with the telepathy they’ll deny they have.

But Raph is having a bad pain day, and his well of patience for shenanigans is much shallower than it normally is. 

“Leon, don’t start,” he says, rubbing the slider’s head playfully to take any sting out of the dismissal. “If I have to put up with any middle child nonsense today I’m gonna scream.”

There’s a beat, his second-youngest brother visibly hesitating on a mental fork in the road. He’s gotten so good about being forthcoming but his first impulse is still to play along, deny, conceal-don’t-feel. He still has this idea in his head of what a good leader is supposed to be, and he’s still willing to whittle parts of himself away that don’t fit that mold. 

To his credit, Leo tries again. “I don’t like him,” he says with less certainty. 

“You don’t have to be best friends with the guy,” Raph replies. There’s enough warning in his tone that Leo knows to drop it. “Just get along until we go home.”

He works his shoulder, trying to do something about the solid ache it’s become, and Leo’s eyes drop to the mass of scarring there and then flit away. He starts to outline the route their patrol is going to take, reaching into his belt bag for the jar of Tiger Balm he’s taken to carrying with him and handing it over to Raph as he talks. 

Raph smiles, the warmth in his chest ballooning up to swallow the impending impatience and annoyance brought out by pain. That warmth stays with him through their whole run, even as Donnie video-calls April and deadpans “POV you’re tailing some guy who didn’t get the memo that armed robbery is cringe as hell,” even as Mikey goes out of his way to jump and tumble off a fire escape in time to give Mondo a high-five as he skates by in the opposite direction, even as Leo progressively gets quieter the closer they get to their two AM check-in at the Mutanimals’ railyard base.

Looking back, Raph can count all the red flags he missed and hates himself a little more for each one. Leo sometimes causes problems for fun, and he likes to see what trouble he can get away with or get himself out of, and he is a downright menace to society when he’s bored—but he’s good. He’s sweet, and charming, and wants to help. He wouldn’t have raised an issue with the other group of mutants, potentially cutting ties with useful allies, unless he had a decent reason to. 

And that reason, Raph discovers that night—after information has been exchanged and all that's left is to hang out at the base watching TV and playing table tennis until Splinter inevitably texts to remind his sons of their curfew—is Liam. 

He doubles back into the meeting room where he left his phone and sees the goose mutant has put himself between Leo and the only exit, head lowered on a serpentine neck, beak open to show a flash of sharp teeth in a display that Raph’s animal hindbrain reads clearly as threat. 

His grip on the doorframe causes it to crack. 

“Leo,” he says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. 

His little brother’s head jerks up, half-hopeful, half-disbelieving. Later, Raph will hate himself for putting even a sliver of doubt in Leo’s mind, for unknowingly invalidating his feelings. Leo should never be surprised that his big brother showed up for him. He should never have been left to fend for himself in a situation that made him uncomfortable, especially after he found the courage to be upfront about it. 

“C’mere,” Raph says, lifting an arm—a little turtle’s cue to tuck themselves safely against Raph’s side. 

Whatever his expression is doing, it’s caused dead silence to blanket the room like a foot of packed snow. Liam looks markedly unhappy to see Raphael standing there, but Leo runs to meet him. 

A strategist, a faceman, a leader, and barely seventeen years old. 

“We were just talking,” Liam says with a lightness that rings as false. 

“Next time I find out you and my brother were just talking, I’ll wring your skinny neck,” Raph replies, matching his tone. Liam may be twice Raph’s age, but he’s half Raph’s size, and Raph has gone head-to-head with the Krang general and the Shredder and walked it off each time. Raph is fully prepared, in this moment, to murder this fucking goose. 

Leo taps on Raph’s carapace, just as one of his violent inner voices is lifting its head in the back of his brain and considering making an appearance. On Leo’s end, a warning that someone else is coming from down the hall. On Raph’s end, a reminder that his first priority is the one he’s holding. 

He turns, keeping Leo beside him, in time to see Hob appear around the corner. The cat mutant stops dead in his tracks, slitted eyes moving from Raph, down to Leo, to the doorway beside them, and back again.  

“Problem?”

“We’re going home,” Raph says, a rumble in his voice he wouldn’t know how to temper even if he wanted to. “And we’re not coming back. Don’t call us unless someone’s dying or there’s another alien invasion.”

“Knock on wood,” Leo mumbles near-silently. 

Old Hob doesn’t answer right away. It’s impossible to tell what the older mutant is thinking on a good day, outwardly recalcitrant and unfriendly, even though he has never snapped at Mikey’s cheerful rambling or Leo’s wheedling attempts to goad him into yet another chess match or even Donnie’s accidental ninpo-related shortage of every appliance in the Mutanimals’ kitchen. He and Sally and Ray and Herman all go out of their way to make their base comfortable and accessible to the turtles and Mondo and Pete, like it really matters to them that the younger mutants have a safe place tucked away that they can fall back on. 

And Raph had appreciated that, up until now. Up until they proved it wasn’t safe, actually. Up until he’d seen a grown man leering meanly at his baby brother, just because he thought he could keep getting away with it.

When Hob does speak, all he says is, “Get home safe, boys.”

Raph shoulders around him, and collects Donnie and Mikey from the main room immediately. Mikey says, “Woah, are you guys okay?” and Donnie shoots a poisonous look behind them, like if he glares hard enough he can see back in time to what happened to put those expressions on Leo and Raph’s faces. 

“We’re peachy, Miguelito,” Leo says, disquietingly convincing. “Just had a difference of opinion with our hosts is all.” 

“Stay out of Hell’s Kitchen from now on until I say so,” Raph adds sternly. 

Raph tells dad about Liam when they get home, because there is no universe where that doesn’t happen, and Leo immediately gets hauled into Splinter’s room for what sounds like a very serious conversation. Raph, Donnie and Mikey cluster shamelessly outside the door to eavesdrop, and some frightened thing in Raph’s heart lets out the breath it’s been holding when Leo says, “Nothing happened, papa, I promise. He was just weird.”

“Let him be weird to my Baby Blue one more time and I will show him exactly why your father was the undisputed Battle Nexus champion,” Splinter says. He cups Leo’s face and rubs his thumb over a striped cheek, as if he’d like to keep his son right there where no one had the capacity to hurt him. “Thank you for telling us. I’m so proud of you. I will actually kill him if he looks at you again.”

Leonardo smiles brightly, daddy’s boy of the family and glutton for attention that he is, those leftover dregs of anxiety in his eyes finally melting away. 

“I think we should let dad kill him,” Donnie announces, eyes icy, tone flat. 

“Nah,” Mikey says, disingenuously cheerful. “Next time we run into Liam I’m setting him the fuck on fire!” 

“Language,” Raph scolds by rote, but his heart isn’t in it. 

He can’t get that scene he walked in on back at the railyard out of his head. He can’t help thinking what if something worse had happened because I didn’t listen? 

It feels like there’s a ghost in his chest, rattling his heart. He’s haunted by the what if. 

——

After dinner, Leo looks at Raph meaningfully and points at the infirmary. Doctor Leo’s orders supersede all others, 100% of the time, so Raphael sighs and surrenders his controller to Mikey’s grabby hands without bothering to make the token argument. He keeps driving Princess Peach off the track anyway. 

“Have you been stretching?” Leo says, feeling along Raph’s upper arm, where the muscles are visibly knotted. Even his careful touch hurts—that whole side of his body is tender with pain. Raph can’t help but flinch when his shoulder spasms and Leo hisses. “Shit, sorry, I know, I know it hurts. God, Raphie, you gotta say something before it gets this bad. I’m not afraid to bench you, big guy.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Raph says, amused by his little brother’s no-nonsense tone, warmed by the care Leo always takes with his family when they’re sitting in his infirmary and putting their hurts in his hands. 

There’s nothing performative about him here. It’s just Leo, stripped of every false layer. 

“Let’s try to massage it out,” Leo says, all his attention bent to the task. “Then we’ll apply heat.” 

Raph hums, watching him work. His arm radiates pain, and he has to grit his teeth as Leo goes to work on the knots and the ache flares close to unbearable and wanes to a dull throb and then flares again. 

“Hey,” Raph says before he can overthink it any more. “What would you have done if I didn’t see you and Liam?”

Leo pauses, but only for a split-second. He’s as good as cornered here, because there’s no way he’ll leave Raph when he’s in pain, and there’s nowhere to hide. Thankfully for Raph’s sanity, he doesn’t try to pretend he doesn’t know what they’re talking about, even if he takes a long moment to finally answer. 

“Would’ve made Angie make me a Portal Promise to never be alone with him,” Leo admits. Flushing slightly, he mumbles, “It’s, uh, a thing we do—we both make portals, you know, so—it just means we have to keep that promise no matter what happens or what rules we have to break, and we won’t get in trouble later as long as we’re honest.” 

Raph’s heart hurts. His little brothers are so sweet, and people exist in the world who would hurt them, and he has no idea how to reconcile that. He hates that both things could be true at the same time. 

“Tello doesn’t need to be encouraged to stay away from people, and I’m pretty sure he can read my mind? But I would’ve told him anyway,” Leo goes on. “I tell him everything. I’d try to word it so he didn’t get angry enough to do something drastic, like, cut the brake lines on Liam’s Toyota Corolla. And I’d have to make it sound like you and I were on the same page, otherwise he’d go to you about it, and you’d—uh, be annoyed that I didn’t drop it, I guess.”

Getting impaled by the Krang hurt less than this, Raph thinks. He feels sick. 

“Leo—”

“I know,” Leo says quickly, a little too loud. “I know that I don’t always take stuff seriously. It’s not your fault for thinking—you know. You didn’t do anything wrong, Raphie. I just gotta grow up.”

This kid, who—like the rest of them—has already matured well past his age, well before he should have had to. Who’s terrified of letting his family down, who has so much he thinks he needs to live up to. Any perceived failure weighs on him like the death penalty, and Raph knows he had a hand in that. 

He needs to listen. Even when he’s aching and short-tempered. Even when Leo is talking around something that scares him. Maybe especially then. 

“Can we make a deal?” Raph says, reaching up to hold Leo’s hands still under one of his own. Leo is staring hard at Raph’s plastron and doesn’t seem willing to lift his eyes for love or money, but he jerks his head in a nod. “Next time I’m not hearing you, and it’s something serious like today was serious, tell me, and I’ll stop.”

Leo’s mouth twists a bit. If it were for anyone else’s sake, he’d get in Raph’s face and make himself heard no problemo, but it’s an entirely different story when it’s his own safety in question. That part of Leo that wants to always rely on his brothers is constantly at war with the part that believes he’s not supposed to need anyone’s help anymore. 

It would be impossible for him to plant himself like a tree and refuse to be budged and demand Raph’s attention if he thought for one second that it would make Raph angry at him. 

“What if we came up with a code word?” Raph offers, squeezing Leo’s hands. “If I’m being a stubborn punk, you can tell me the code word, and I’ll listen, and I won’t get mad. Even if it turns out to be a mistake or a misunderstanding. Okay?”

He finally gets a peek of gold as Leo dares to make eye contact. He looks embarrassed, like they’ve made a huge deal out of this for no good reason, and hiding inside his shell until everyone promises to pretend like nothing happened is looking more tempting by the second. 

But he’s Leo, their fearless leader. He stared down that portal into the prison dimension without flinching. If he can do that, he can do anything. 

“What word?” he finally says. 

“You pick,” Raph tells him. 

A smile creeps onto Leo’s face, picking its way carefully across shaky ground. 

“‘Goose’,” he suggests.

"‘Goose’ it is," Raph replies firmly, committing it to memory.

He lifts his good arm and drags his little brother into a solid hug, ignoring the twinge in his back and side. Leonardo scrambles to return the embrace, shoving his face against Raph’s unscarred shoulder and clinging for all he’s worth. Which is a lot. He’s worth so much. 

Later, when Raph’s got the electric heating pad on his arm and he and Leo are watching TikTok compilations to pass the time, Mikey comes through the infirmary door at top speed, waving his phone above his head like a maniac. 

“Look what Mondo sent me!” he shouts at full volume. “I put it in the group chat!”

The video shared in the Mad Dogz chat shows Liam being kicked out of the railyard, his bags tossed into the road. Sally is going off at him at the top of her lungs, and Hob is standing by with his arms folded like he’s fully ready to let her maul the guy, and the rest of the grown-up mutants are making it pretty clear with their body language that the goose isn’t welcome anymore. 

“Dunno what they saw on the security cam, but they effin’ hated it,” Mondo says in the recording, unbothered by the absolute chaos unfolding in front of him. “Good riddance, Liam sucks. Oh, Mikester, Hob wants to know if you guys’ll be back in the Kitchen for Herman’s D&D oneshot on Saturday so he knows how much food to order. He said you should bring your dad around this time—as if we need another boring old man in the group, ugh. Anyway, let me know and I’ll pass it along, dude!”

A weight Raph hadn’t even realized he was still carrying melts off his shoulders. Leo huffs under his breath, a disbelieving little laugh. 

“Can we go, Raphie?” Mikey asks with wide eyes. “Don worked so hard on all our character sheets. He even 3D-printed custom figurines.”

“My bard is going to carry this team,” Donnie says loudly from the next room, because he’s never met a private conversation he wouldn’t shamelessly listen in on. 

It’s so important to the Mutanimals that their young friends feel safe with them, and here’s proof of that in Mikey’s hands. Raph doesn’t fully understand why they care, but he’s grateful that they do. It didn’t hit him until now how much it hurt to have the railyard taken away—and how relieved he is that they can go back, after all. 

He squeezes the arm he still has around Leo’s shoulders, prompting his brother to look up at him. 

“What do you say, Fearless?” he says warmly. “Your call.”

Raph’s listening this time. 

[bulbabutt]

okay. lets bite the bullet and talk about 2012. lets talk about child abuse, familial abuse, generational abuse, toxic family units, whatever you wanna call it. lets talk about it and whether it exists in this show. i actually encourage you to read this no matter what your take is, just to hear it out. let me be FUCKING clear: i love this show, but i get scared to talk about it seriously. everyone on every side is defensive all the time but i love every turtles show to no end.

this post is going to go over so well and not controversially at all.

precursor: every splinter is some level of shitty dad. he always has been. the fucking bare bones of the character is that he raised his children to kill the man who killed his own father. thats inherently fucked up. every splinter has some level of fucked up about him. maybe hes inattentive, or neglectful, or strict, or secretive, maybe hes just not very good at dealing with his kids. splinter is supposed to be far from perfect. thats what makes him splinter. maybe he grows over the course of a series, maybe he doesnt. maybe hes supposed to be shitty his whole life, maybe hes not. thats just splinter. each is adapted differently depending on the story being told.

and 2012 has a very interesting tone to its story.

lets start at the beginning, back in japan. this is season 3, was this story what they intended when they started writing the show back in season 1? probably not, theres probably things they would have written differently had they known this was where splinter's story started. thats kind of the way tv works, you add the details later. but for our sake of analyzing the character of splinter as a whole, it seems best to start here as if its all intentional.

hamato yoshi is a member of the hamato clan. theyre a very traditional old ninja clan in the modern world, they have old feuds and theyre trying to keep their culture alive. they're literally the last of a clan of ninjas like this, having (supposedly) defeated the foot clan (their generational enemies) back when yoshi was a baby. hes set out to lead next, and its very important to him. and yet hes married to a woman who works in the city, a modern woman who doesnt live the life he does. she even moved to be with him. i feel the need to compare this to how men in the real world who want traditional wives never go for women who are willing to be their housewives, always try to break down the independent ones. splinter seems unconcerned with how his wife wants to live. with how she wants their daughter to be raised.

im not necessarily saying this is how this comes off in the show, but i find it interesting to think about. this is absolutely the most rounded version of tang shen as a character (thus far) it stops her being just a name on a page "hamato yoshi's love and the object of his enemies affections who died" and turns her into a woman who has a stake in the story. gives her more agency.

its very interesting that this show implies an actual relationship between tang shen and oroku saki, albeit a one-sided one that didnt work out, but they do seem to have parted on equal ground. the pair of them discuss yoshi's inattentive duties as a husband and father, that he's too obsessed with the tradition and lineage of his clan. honestly, if this woman just took her baby and left no one would blame her! he has his priorities set, and it leaves no room for her and their newborn baby. if she ran away with saki at this point, the story would make just as much sense.

but then disaster strikes, saki learns the truth about his family, that he was actually a child of the foot clan (honestly i wish we saw this play out instead of jumping ahead in the story but thats not what this post is about) and he kills he and yoshi's father. revenge for him having killed his. cycles of abuse and revenge that never end. the pair of them were raised in this society that values lineage like this, that would kill for it. its no wonder they both grew up this way.

anyway, tang shen is killed by a blow meant for yoshi, and saki takes their child and raises her. based on splinter's lack of desire to be a father so far in the story, its honestly not one you can blame him for. its fucked up, but it makes sense. saki does to miwa exactly what his father did to him. cycles of abuse and revenge.

yoshi loses everything, and moves to america. he's turned into splinter the mutant rat, and gains four turtle sons.

so as established, he's not exactly grown up with a stable family life. he obviously, while human, wasnt acting as a stable father for the child he intended to have. so how good is he at this?

ive talked before about how the 2003 show treats the turtles as kind of one whole unit. they don't have individual relationship arcs, they dont have overarching storylines where they grow apart or closer, they're always in each other's corner.

2012 makes this more dynamic. here we see that 15 years seeing no one but each other, growing under this splinter has come with its own quirks. these brothers dont understand each other that well. they get jealous of each others treatment, some are left out, some are misunderstood. raph resents leo, none of them appreciate what donnie does, mikey bothers everyone else for attention, etc. it creates a really good starting place for this show.

(the issue i have with this show is more that they never really open or close any of these beats, at least not in ways that last. but boy does it make for some good dramatic scenes)

we see over the course of this first season that splinter treats his children just as he was, as little ninjas more so than sons. he raises them to follow his traditions, the ones tang shen never cared for. but this is all he knows how to be! you cant really blame him.

most people bring up mikey as the quintessential example when they talk about this, i dont want to do that cuz i know you've all heard it. while i think his father does disrespect him and i think it is paid forward and his brothers do too, i'd rather talk about raph for a change.

in one episode, raph loses his temper. to teach him a lesson, splinter makes his brothers pelt him in training while insulting him any way they can, and tells him to just... not lose his temper. this is a terrible lesson in general. instead of trying to coax out why he might be angry, it just plays up that if he loses his temper bad things happen.

splinter in this episode basically encourages bullying. this comes up a lot when it comes to raph. to compare, in 2003 when raph loses his temper, hes told to blow off steam which he does. his brothers don't blame him for having emotional outbursts, they know thats just how he is so they know how he needs to cope with it. he's given the physical space to let it out.

im not saying this show needs to be like that show, im just saying thats a version of this story where the outcome is better for raph as a whole. since this outcome is not as good for him emotionally, you can tell why he's still got these emotional issues. splinter never helps him more than that. thats more why this raph differs from that one, if that makes sense. one has his family in his corner more than the other.

speaking of. raph has a pet turtle. this turtle is the only one he can talk to about how he feels. why might that be? it's the only thing hes kind and gentle to, and he refuses to let his brothers make him feel weak for being kind to it. where did he learn to be ashamed of being kind and gentle? thats a learned behaviour. in a house full of other men... yeah, that would happen. but whos values start that?

when this turtle gets some mutagen spilled on it, it tries to get revenge on his family. there is such a resentment going on here, its extremely juicy. the show chalks this up to "post mutation insanity", but its just as easy to think that everything raph has experienced has made him seem angry and resentful and perhaps scared to his pet, and that former pet wants raph to himself so they can be free. the frustrated venting of a child complaining about how no one understands him in such a big way turns slash into a vengeful monster, cuz thats all he's ever heard. it makes sense, he went from a little turtle to a fully cognizant adult aged being in an instant. emotionally no one would handle that well, and definitely not someone whos only ever heard the worst about people.

he comes around later. notably by being on his own, away from the hamatos.

again, im not saying the show is writing this intentionally, but i think tonally its in the zone where you could see this analysis as being canon. that these little pieces of narrative fit the worldview of a toxic family unit that isnt dealing with its problems in a healthy way.

there's other small aspects. leo slaps mikey early on, having seen it on his favourite show be used as a way of getting someone to calm down. mikey questions this behaviour, leo seems to feel bad about it when questioned. if we know that that behaviour was bad, what other things might he emulate in a similar way?

there's things like donnie's predatory behaviour towards april. in a world where all they ever knew was splinter's stories of the outside world (and perhaps television from decades earlier), hearing splinter's story of his love for tang shen, his rivalry with his own brother over her, you could actually see why he would behave the way he does, why he claims her the way he does. not as an excuse, but as a reason he learned the behaviour. and there's multiple opportunities for his father to tell him off. he never does. why would he? he knows no better.

this splinter, unlike every other, is not old or disabled. he doesnt require a cane (at the start, but also was never a good cane) and its interesting that despite being like... a 40 year old man in the peak of his life he does not accompany his sons on missions. he sits around doing nothing and disproves of his sons heroic actions. april literally calls him out for this at one point. the show is actually telling us some of this man's behaviour is wrong.

one of the more upsetting things that happens in this household is a lot of physical hitting. "theyre training" you might say. understandable. but when you see a lot of hitting come from the father in this show, played for a laugh, when you see splinter play the "drunk master" bit it makes you think. is that okay? isnt that a bit much?

the end of the muckman episode is a freeze frame of splinter (after having knocked out all of his sons to punish them for leaving while grounded) turning his anger on april and her running away. idk thats just not funny to me. this is a bit of the dating of the show, 2012 was a time where character's in shows were meaner, less affectionate, more bullying in nature. that was the sense of humour at the time. that isnt me making a judgment, it's just kind of the era. a pre steven universe world, if that makes sense. so many of the jokes that end in a hit aren't funny in 2024. especially not when they come from a parent.

when this splinter speaks about his kids to their brothers he often ends up insulting them. "you should be like mikey, he never overthinks because he doesn't think", this would be a big reason the boys speak about each other the way they do to their faces. puts forward a bit more of that bullying thing i mentioned earlier. if their own father talks about them like this, of course their brothers do too. so of course they join in and give payback.

again. splinter wasnt raised in a normal family. he was raised in a ninja commune with a bunch of murderers. he wasn't great with his wife and baby daughter. its not surprising that he's bad at this.

so, ive just said a bunch of things about what's wrong with this household as a whole. i think ive explained why the family unit behaves the way it does: generational teachings of feuds and traditional values. i dont think this makes the show bad! i, in fact, wish there was more of it. i think theres so much low hanging fruit that the show kind of wants to play with, but cant fully bring itself to.

specific example: during the space arc on a planet thats driving all the characters emotions against each other we get this amazing scene where raph screams at leo for being splinter's favourite. leo responds by hugging him. its really well done!

however its never brought up again, never actually getting into the nitty gritty of why raph feels like that is exactly what i think makes this show resonate with so many people

its dark! it pulls at your heart strings! it makes people feel seen! we go in mikey's head at one point and see such splintered (lol) personalities in his head. he has a huge anger problem (much like raph) in there. he retreats into imagination land when stressed. the show kind of toys with "these kids are fucked up!" but never lets those character moments go anywhere. i love how fucked up this family is. its so complex, it feels real. at least real to me. i wish it went that little step further and let the characters talk about these things a little more.

maybe you have a different experience, and thats fine! but i wouldnt brush off people like me who look at 2012 and say "these dynamics make me uncomfortable". to excuse it by saying "my family is like that and we're fine" sometimes i just wanna say... <:/ are you? have you talked about that? and if that's your read on it is that its fine, thats great. but some people notice patterns and those patterns can make them uncomfortable. i hope ive explained the patterns here.

i think thats why the fandom is as big as it is. this show would lead to the most amazing deep introspective fan-works youve ever seen, it lays the pieces out so perfectly for you to draw your own conclusions about why they are this way. you cant really blame people for talking about it as if its got a way higher rating than it does. it feels like it does.

i should say, i dont even know if i blame the show on its own for leaving those pieces laying there, it was on nickelodeon. i sense studio meddling in the tone. i mean, given that the show wanted to end with the big mutant apocalypse storyline, and yet the network wanted to end it with the big 87 crossover..... yeah i think its safe to say nick would rather they keep it light.

which is funny, because i think the most controversial thing i can say is i personally love the finale arc as the mutant apocalypse. it so encapsulates my favorite part of this show. to end this show in the darkest timeline and say "even though these characters are so far removed from who they used to be and even though the entire world is over they still have each other in the end" and i find that so perfect.

so. i understand that this is always a touchy topic. i know people want to brush it off as "people say the 12 brothers are abusive to mikey but mikey is fine", and i think thats a really skewed version of it from both sides. first of all. mikey is not fine, look in that boys head. look how he copes. he's not. but also, mikey is not the only victim. they all are. these turtles are victims of their upbringing, victims of generational war. of men who didnt know how to be good fathers in the first place. and thats good writing! it feels deep! it connects!

for more context: any fucked up way you can think of karai being raised by shredder? its probably the same way here. splinter and shredder were raised the same way.

i guess i think about this a lot, cuz i always see things like "oh, rise fans write crossovers where the rise boys love each other and have to teach the 12 boys how to be nice cuz they dont like 2012!" and i just think to myself:

guys. do you understand why a person might do that? why would someone (likely a teenager) want 2012 mikey to be treated nicely by a kinder more openly affectionate version of his own family? do i need to spell that out for you? why do we connect with media at all, why do we write our own stories about it?

if you genuinely dont. i mean, im glad for you. but sometimes you wanna imagine a world in which your own family is more openly affectionate with you. where they hug and tell you theyre proud and love you and you never have to question it, never have to look elsewhere for that kind of approval. its less that they're idolizing rise, and more that they're looking at the two families and saying "this one is emotionally mature and in touch with their feelings more than that one. how would that play out?"

doctor feelings ass response.

look, im not saying everyone understands 2012, that everyone likes or needs to like it. im just trying to say that i think these fucked up parts of 2012 are all around my favourite parts of the show. its an inspiring story about this fucked up little family that has no one but each other, and they're not great about it. they try, but they don't always get it right. i just wish the show would have talked about that part more. but i think that since it doesnt people get to fill in those blanks themselves, and they do it so beautifully. and i really wish people on the internet would be more kind to one another when they wanted to discuss these darker themes they find in it.

these are the reasons i love this show. i think its so very interesting that splinter dies this fucked up father figure who never really apologized for his behaviour. i like that raph needs to be held to stop punching his brothers. that leo doesnt have a good grip on what it is to be a leader, that he tries bad ways of doing it. i like that no one copes well! i like that their relationships are so complex! this show is messy! its good! i wish it was more messy!

and id love if we could be more honest about these things and how they make us feel instead of just brushing each other off as "likes the show" or "doesnt like the show". the things that make me uncomfortable are why i love this show and i'm pretty sure i'm not alone there.

[laswells-ashtray]

I personally really like the idea of the Shadows being kinda like Phillip's lil family. So...

On an op before 141, the fucker gets injured pulling a Shadow away from a rotting patch of wooden floor while sweeping an old church. He lands himself a fractured ankle, splinters quite literally up the ass, and bruising like a bitch after falling through the floor himself.

So nothing too bad.

He comes off the comes off the painkillers to a hoard of puppy-eyed men in various stages of uniform dress.

Blah blah blah fluff happens

His ass hurts. It shouldn't be his first thought but his ass hurts. The same way it did when he took a drunken tumble down a flight of stairs as a teenager and bruised half of his damn body. He knows that after that shitshow of a job [that they'd been paid an abysmally low amount for given the conditions] he had showered, changed into sweatpants, taken some good quality fucking painkillers and he conked out on the closest surface.

Which he now realises is the old ass couch they all collectively refuse to get rid of despite its various stains and the knife stuck in one of its legs. He blinks before rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. There are at least five Shadows around him, maybe six. They might be multiplying.

Oz catches his eye and he looks far too amused for someone that still owes him ten dollars and a Costco hotdog, but he'll bring up that bet later.

"Feeling alright, commander?"

He stares back at the man with an unamused look, pushing himself up into a sitting position. He was being watched like he was holding a bag of fries and he'd just stepped into pigeon territory.

"Fuck are you starin' for? Oz, if there's a dick on my face-"

"There isn't, couldn't take one of the kids into doing it. Just wondering if you're hungry because you took those painkillers on an empty stomach then passed out half-dead."

Damn right, none of the younger Shadows would draw a dick on his face. They were too scared to, Oz? Not so much but he was stuck with the shithead at this point.

"Could go something. Mind telling me why you've got a small army of Shadows present for this conversation?"

"Well, Petrillo was here to look at your ankle while you were too unconscious to notice. Garfield is here to try and talk you into buying Chick-fil-A with company money. And-"

"My name isn't Garfield-"

"You hate Mondays. Anyway, and the kids are here because they've never seen you land on your ass like that before and wanted to check how you're doing but they're too scared to ask for themselves."

That checks. He looks around at the three younger Shadows who have all now decided to stop staring at him and instead at the floor.

"Christ, I'm fine. If you can't take a fall like that then you can't do the fucking job. And I'll pay for the Chick-fil-A but I ain't going to get it, drag your lazy ass to do it."

Only then does he notice the fact that there's a bag of frozen peas under his ankle.

[imagionationstation]

Something I was thinking about today:

The claim that Splinter “never feeds his sons human food” and they have to discover it upon reaching the surface is a curious one.

It makes sense given common information.

Let’s use our big brains. Reason out some more info.

Info like… Splinter must have looked up information about turtles before buying four baby turtles.

However, after getting turned into a rat and ending up a father to infants on the run from aliens, he probably never got the chance to go to the library or use the Internet to look up information on how to feed a half-human half-turtle hybrid baby.

(Not that the Internet had forums for that yet. Was the internet prevalent in 2012…?)

So he just. Fed them turtle food and hoped for the best.

(The Japanese are know for eating insects. And algae is commonly used in all kinds of their recipes. For Americans, it sounds crazy. For Splinter, it was just an adaption of his own diet in the hopes of providing his mutant children with safe, normal turtle food.)

By the time they were kids, they’d probably just gotten used to a routine. We really have no proof that algae and worms is bad for the turtles. Tastes yucky? Maybe. But humans eat plants and bugs too.

Splinter was likely just working with what he knew.

But I don’t think they only ever ate algea. Don’t get me wrong-

The theory is totally understandable. I was onboard for this claim for a while myself. Then, I rewatched Lone Rat and Cubs. (Bebés 🥰🥰)

And he definitely introduces them to foods.

I’m seeing noodles, gyoza, (bamboo stick?), and he also throws down something yellow that I can’t recognize. We also see him collecting bread for them and dangling food over the little piranha children.

He continues to collect products for them. Maybe not the healthiest because he’s literally raiding trashcans but… He’s trying.

And then we have some popcorn proof that he’s still introducing them to human foods when they’re kiddos, with Mikey happily snacking on some while they’re in the dojo.

During the series, we see very little new introductions to foods. They eat romen, icecream, popcorn, and drink milk, tea, and other human things without so much as batting an eye.

Ergo, they’ve had human foods. They’ve just never had pizza.

Why do they act like such goobers when introduced to pizza?

BECAUSE THEY’RE GOOBERS, YOUR HONOR!!!

Though- they actually act similarly when introduced to pizza gyoza.

They hesitate. And then something explodes with how tasty it is.

But because this list is far to short to be a proper analysis, there’s also the point to be made for the first episode where they have an entire kitchen set-up going around them.

And I’m no New York Subway expert, but do they normally have kitchens set up within them? Probably not.

Which means that Splinter (and/or his sons) must have set this up. Why set up pantries, a fridge, and a stove if you did not intend to house foods or make foods to cook on them?

After all, the food on the plates appear fresh and raw.

They have an algae pool for harvesting in the lab. Why would they need to create an entire kitchen set-up simply to prepare them?

Also, they know how to use chopsticks for big and small foods. If they’d spent their entire lives eating small foods, it would be a teenie bit difficult to change the method of picking up a fatter breading than a tiny greenery or worm. Especially with mutant hands.

But they don’t hesitate. As if they have picked up larger foods before.

Also, also, they know what a cake is. What it’s supposed to be made out of. Hence why Leo knows what “icing” is.

I’m not normally that excited to taste something that I’ve never tried before (unless someone is hyping me up). It feel implied that they have and that’s why they’re disappointed that Mikey made one of not-cake substances and why Mikey looks like he has regrets.

Also, also, also- considering Splinter eats the algae and worms too, I don’t believe that he has the turtles on a purely algae based diet because he’d have to stick himself on one too. Man’s not a fan.

And he knows that other foods exist. So. Why would he?

In other words, my favorite analogy:

I hate Spinach salad. My mother used to make us eat Spinach salad.

Were there better things to eat than Spinach? Yeah.

Did mom even listen to that point? Nope.

But was it still technically good for me so I was forced to stomach Spinach salad until I was old enough to design my own diet?

You betcha. And I hated every minute of it 👍

So, to end this, I have to say that while algea and worms could have been (at maximum) a common meal for the turtles, I don’t think it was their only meal option. I’m not necessarily saying it was the best idea or the tastiest meal for a birthday-type celebration, but the turtles definitely had outside food exposure.

Do with this knowledge what you will.

[strawberrymochin]

Unkempt desires

Megumi meets gojo again 20 years later after the big battle.

Genre/Warnings-: reincarnation au! Grownup! Megumi, he has a family, our gumi all grown up, crackhead yuuji, mentions of death, flashbacks.

Megumi looked over the sea. Its waves glimmering brightly as the sunrays dance shimmers along the tides.

Something about it was nostalgic, maybe it was the warm fuzzy smell or maybe it was the azure of the water under the bright sun, which resembled the eyes of someone, who megumi was once under the debt of— Satoru Gojo.

Maybe he is still in debt.

The scar from the battle on his face has now faded into a cream color slightly in contrast to his face.

He wondered how gojo’s scars would have looked if he were still alive now. Would those millions of cuts on his skin prick him with the memory of Megumi, unconscious, fighting with him under sukuna’s control? Will they prick him like splinters of iron, bringing tears to his eyes? Lol he would probably just laugh it off.

The fact that he even wrote him a silly letter apologizing for something as grave as murdering his biological father, with a pun and a silly doodle included.

Megumi chuckles at the memory of how he used to hate those eyes peeking on him, especially on nights when he had fever. Almost giving him a heart attack.

Ironic how he hated them back then, and how he misses them now!

‘Megumi, let's make a sand castle’ he would say, on his days off, when he forced the fushiguros to the beach, to have some family time. You would laugh with tsumiki on those castles which barely even looked like one.

“Hey, dad! Let's make a sand castle!!” A little girl ran up to Megumi, tugging his hand and dragging him.

“No need to hurry y/n, the sand ain't going anywhere.” Megumi said as the girl kept dragging him towards the failed attempts of sand castles she made.

He now had a family, a happy one. One lovely wife he fell in love with(which he never thought he would) and one daughter dear to his heart. He named her after you, the only mother figure he ever had in his life.

It's been 21 years since then.

You were no longer alive, nor was gojo. Still the memories were alive. The memories which he treasured with an uncertain fear in his heart, he didn't quite recognise, until his daughter started to look exactly like you.

Her eyes resembled yours, her lips resembled yours, your face resembled hers, so did her curse technique.

His wife said maybe it was a blessing, a reincarnation. She was happy, so was Megumi, but it would be wrong to admit he wasn't afraid.

Afraid of history repeating.

Afraid of his daughter's curse technique to evolve.

Afraid of an uncertain future even beyond his capacity to behold.

Itadori barged into his office, wearing nobara’s skirt.

“ I'm Kugisaki nobara!!!!”, he went to such an extent on detailing his look that he even stole one of her eye patches.

“You're gonna get your ass drilled by her hammer once she finds you.” Megumi drawled checking through the files of the freshers who are about to enroll into their school. He's a teacher now, continuing what gojo dreamt of, so did Itadori Yuji.

“You're not fun. And you shouldn't use such language, if you're raising a lovely daughter. Wouldn't want her to turn like nobara or maki senpai.” He said, pulling on the chair and settling on it with one leg crossed over the other.

“Well, why are you here?” inquires Megumi, already full of his drama.

“To inform you that we are going to get a kid off execution.”

“Execution?”

“Yes, a potential threat to higher ups and society.” Yuji tapped his fingers on the wooden desk polished with varnish, his face slowly adapting to the depth of his statement.

“To the higher ups?”

“Mhm, yeah the great stuff gojo sensei did…I can't believe I missed such a great show.”

Megumi was silent for a while. The last threat to the higher ups ever to be born was gojo and geto.

He could never imagine someone could be more of a threat to them. Until and unless they find out about his daughter's curse technique.

“Let's get going already, I don't think they will resist the urge of killing the kid for any longer.” Itadori got up from the chair, followed by Megumi. (And don't worry he was caught by nobara midway who kept the drilling ass move for later and let him go to meet the kid)

Itadori was reminded of a similar yellow hue and the fresh flood of memories following it, some pleasant, some bitter that made his throat itch. However, someone who was more pale in the execution room was Megumi. As something wasn't sitting right with him. Every single step he was taking was increasing the dread he felt for his daughter's reality to be discovered. And he didn't understand why he felt like that.

Finally they came to the familiar hall and in the center of it was a boy sitting in a chair, his back facing them. He wore a navy hoodie and his complexion was pale. Even paler than Megumi.

Itadori glanced at Megumi before calling out to the kid, who was unnaturally calm, as if he were about to watch a movie instead of getting himself killed for bearing a burden he never chose to bear.

“Kiddo! We're here to save your ass for getting killed…mind facing us a bit.” cold sweat broke out on Megumi, as Itadori let those words out his mouth. Even he wasn't feeling good. Something was so, so wrong.

The kid stood up. His hair, a familiar silver. He turned slowly, for what seemed a long agonizing time. And when he finally did.

Megumi was numb.

It was him. The same eyes. The same mouth. The same hair. But it was as if time got tangled in its own threads and somehow the gojo satoru, who was long dead, was in his child form in front of their eyes.

Itadori gulped, he glanced at Megumi, before getting his shit together and shutting his mouth, preventing himself from gaping at the kid.

“I'd prefer you save yourselves from me first. And I wouldn't feel any remorse for not having a better judgment." The kid spoke in a voice, a lot less mature than the boys remembered of gojo. Then they remembered, the kid’s just 12 years old.

And Megumi was right. Something was so wrong. Cuz’ even if the kid looked exactly like gojo, he wasn't any like him.

“You shouldn't mess with satoru gojo.” He said, his fingers forming a hand sign, with slight blue light sparkling.

“Sensei…” whispered Megumi, which was barely even audible, and yet nothing changed in the kid's demeanor.

He was gojo. Alive and reincarnated. And Megumi knew it. But gojo didn't.

a/n- I was nervous writing this, since i haven't wrote for so long, forgive me if this is shit!