#my lovely emotionally repressed touch telepaths

[frodispatch]

I need to stop making Vulcans more and more cat-like but it’s impossible.

i keep adding this shit to my personal k/s things and…

like…

obviously some of these are ones that have been in fanon for a while

but…

here’s ideas i’ve just kept for a while:

They purr. Since it’s caused by pleasurable emotions, usually they have to be pretty worked up, but purring is a thing Vulcans naturally do. (Romulans also purr, so says I, due to their shared ancestry). Spock has gotten more comfortable with it over time, as he has with other more emotional things, and he gets “bubbly” sometimes when he’s content and will let out the occasional rumble among friends.

Vulcans also rub. similar to the purring, it is an emotional reaction and is clearly not an “in public act” but they sometimes headbut and rub their faces on their partner.

this isn’t really a cat thing but on the themes of affection, Since Vulcans “kiss” with their hands, but that isn’t necessarily how they engage in sexual intercourse, (because the Saavik thing is in search for spock is so weird… for my own sanity i just see it as like, her calming down the ponn farr? so that spock doesn’t die as a 7 year old on Genesis??) i believe they wouldn’t naturally kiss on the lips like humans do. (just think: kirk gives spock a very human peck on the lips and spock does not innately know how to kiss back so he just presses his lips against Jim. and jim is just :O because it’s so cute. but spock is much more comfortable using his hands to show affection.)

anyway, there you go.

[yn-ymn-yln]

Hey there! Hope you're doing well! I'd like to request a Kol Mikaelson X reader where the reader is a child psychic (12-15) that Kol low-key adopts. Like the Mikaelsons find about this kid with "gifts" and try to locate her but when they do they find out that her parents are physically abusive and trying to repress her abilities. So, the Mikaelsons gang saves her and she lives with them and at first Lol only really cares to study her abilities but he eventually realizes she's kinda a mischievous little whack-job of a human and he's like: "This is my child now." You can choose what sort of psychic power the reader has. (Ex. Empathic, telepathic, telekinetic, foresight...) Thank you!!!!

*Thank you for the request and your patience love! I hope you like it!*

Black Sheep

Kol had been watching you for a few days now. He had gotten wind of your abilities from the witches in the quarter, but was determined to see if you were worth his time himself.

From distant observation alone he could tell you were an empath, though he wasn’t sure just how far your abilities could go.

Could you control other people’s emotions?

Had you even scratched the surface of what your powers could actually do?

Listening intently from the corner of your street he hears the disturbing sound of your pleading.

“I won’t do it again! I promise! PLEASE DON’T LOCK ME IN HERE!”

“You’ve left us no choice Y/f/n, you’re a danger to everyone around you, there are consequences to your actions.” Kol’s head lifts at those words, he had heard a rendition of that more than once, listening to you endure the same treatment cracks his inhuman exterior slightly. It didn’t take a genius to see that you weren’t dangerous, just different… A black sheep, like him. Without much thought Kol makes a decision, one that could very well leave him daggered, in a box for the next century.

“I’m sorry, you what?” Staring into the eyes of Klaus, Kol doesn’t back down from the choice he’s made, whether or not it was a mistake was still up for debate.

“They’re an empath, I figured they could be of use to us.” Without another word and before things could get heated, Elijah shows you to one of the many spare rooms that litter the compound.

“Did he kill them?” Your voice is soft and unsure, your age shining through despite your predicament. Although you were looking for reassurance Elijah was quite finished with Kol’s antics.

“Sleep. We can discuss things further in the morning.” He turns away at that, leaving you with the uncertainty of your parent��s survival and the unsettling feeling of a strange bed.

~~

As the months progressed so did your abilities, under Freya’s watchful eye you had learned more about your powers than you thought possible, which got you into trouble. A lot.

Running up the stairs of the compound you desperately attempt to reach your room before Klaus got wind of your little prank, though the vampire in your path did little to aid you in that endeavor.

“And where are you off to?”

“No time to explain, HIDE ME.” Jumping into the arms of your rescuer, your eyes widen at the vicious yell from the living room.

“Y/N!!” Glancing from you to the end of the stairs Kol immediately releases you, laughing loudly at your unceremonious landing. Within a second Klaus is in front of the two of you, eyes blazing with fury.

“You little brat.” Before things could escalate further you dulled the emotions raging through the hybrid’s mind, lulling him into a false sense of security.

“I’m sorry Klaus, I promise it won’t happen again.” Your smile to others would seem apologetic but to Kol was as mischievous as they came.

“It’s alright love, no worries.” Glancing at Kol you can’t help the small giggle that bubbles from within you.

“Your abilities seem to be coming along well.”

“Yeah… Freya’s really helped a lot.” It was awkward, Kol hadn’t spoken to you much since saving you, though you had spotted him watching from the door while you and Freya practiced on occasion.

“Better hide before he realizes what you’ve done.”

“Done again, you should say.” As if on cue Klaus’ booming voice rips through the compound for the second time.

“WHERE IS THAT LITTLE MONGREL!!!”

~~

Try as he might to keep his distance, Kol couldn’t help but feel a kinship towards you. You were a trouble maker. From playing pranks on Elijah, to dulling Klaus’ rage in the presence of his enemies, you were the culprit to some of Kol’s favorite crimes. Of course, a case could be made that you were certifiably insane, but what was the world without a little chaos?

“DON’T TOUCH THAT!” Jumping a mile Freya whips around to face you, eyes wide.

“Why?! It’s just a rock?!”

“My socks keep going missing, so I’m leaving an offering to the house troll.” Mouth agape, Freya isn’t quite sure if you were serious or not.

“Y/n there is no such thing as a house tro-”

“SHHHHHHHH! He’s always listening.” In true twelve-year-old fashion you bolt behind the couch, eyes constantly watching the rock perched on the window.

“KOL! COME GET YOUR CHILD PLEASE!” With a furrowed brow Kol enters the living room, eyes landing on your squinting form from your semi hidden position.

“Uhh…” Sighing loudly you go through the explanation again, never once looking away from your trap.

“That’s why I’m waiting here.”

“So the house trolls will leave you alone?” Kol’s confusion bleeds into his question.

“No! So I can get my socks back from the greedy bastards. They messed with the wrong kid.” Shaking his head Kol kneels next to you in your makeshift trenches.

“How long do you intend to wait?”

“As long as it takes.”

When Rebekah enters the war zone twenty minutes later, she’s greeted with a sight that melts her heart. You were fast asleep on Kol’s lap, mouth wide open, face pointed towards the ceiling. Kol wasn’t much better, head resting against yours with his eyes closed.

“So much for hunting trolls.” She can’t help the smile that forms as the words leave her mouth. Her brother truly was a child. Good thing he had you to play with.

~~

Your thirteenth birthday was something Kol was admittedly not prepared for, not because of the balloons or the obvious sugar rush you were sporting, no those things he could handle. What he couldn’t handle was the effects of time already taking their toll. You were a year older now than when he had saved you, features slowly morphing and changing.

How long did he truly have left with you?

That thought alone turned the cheery celebration into something much more debilitating. Somewhere in the back of Kol’s mind he’d thought about changing you, turning you in the middle of the night like his parents had done to him. Could he do it? Rip away everything you have ever known for his own selfish want to have you around forever? Watching the joy break out across your face as you open presents, he doesn’t think he could.

As the night winds down Kol goes in search of you, fully prepared to compel you to sleep off your sugar high. When he finds you fast asleep on the couch, stuffed bear he had bought you gripped tightly in your grasp, he lets out a quiet chuckle.

“Dad?” With your groggy whisper Kol’s freezes in place. You had never called him that, refusing to emotionally attach yourself to any one after what your parents had done, though your tired state didn’t seem to mind all that much.

“What’s wrong?” He doesn’t acknowledge your slip up, too concerned with the moisture building in the corners of your eyes.

“Bad dream.” Lifting you into his arms, he shushes you gently.

“It’s alright little one, I’m here. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Watching you sniffle quietly and burrow into his embrace, Kol knows no matter how much it hurts, or how little time he had left with you, he would never let himself be the source of your sadness.

After all black sheep had to stick together.

[good-beans]

An (updated) list of songs that remind me of characters that no one asked for

Edward Elric:

Pluto - Sleeping at Last

South - Sleeping at Last

Roy Mustang:

Rainy Girl - Andrew McMahon (for royai)

Point of No Return (I prefer the acoustic ver) - Starset

Anger - Sleeping at Last

Riza Hawkeye:

Hold my Heart - Lindsay Stirling (feat. ZZ Ward)

Link (any):

Annie's Song - John Denver (for zelink)

Avalanche - Walk the Moon (for zelink)

Link (botw):

Something Wild - Andrew McMahon

Open Your Eyes - Bea Miller

Seven - Sleeping at Last

Broken - Lovelytheband

Zelda (ss):

Sing Me to Sleep - Alan Walker

Heart - Sleeping at Last (for zelink)

Korra:

Show Your Colors - Genevieve

Serizawa Katsuya:

Nine - Sleeping at Last

Crooked Heart - Orlene (for serirei)

Teruki Hanazawa:

Telepathic - Starset (for terumob)

Minegishi Toshiki:

Force of Nature - Bea Miller (for shimamine)

Genos:

Touch - Sleeping at Last

Percy Jackson:

Rhythm of Love - Plain White T's (for percabeth)

10,000 Emerald Pools - Borns (for percabeth)

Nico Di Angelo:

Eight - Sleeping at Last*

*this song actually works for any emotionally repressed character, lol. I've thought about it in terms of others but I feel like the lyrics very much line up with Nico which is why I listed it under him

[getaroomyouheck]

wrote a review for Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished

“Shh... Do you want to hear a secret? I know one…” When you close your eyes, and remember the halcyon days of your youth long past, what are the emotions that spur most flagrantly? Is it a sense of whims and love for that which made you, the bruises and arguments and play fights , wonder for the love left behind? Subtle sadness for those days forever lost in memory, with friends you may no longer be able to or even want to be able to talk to? Are those memories something to even bring up, or was it all just too much to bear, whatever broken sordid past that's left you to this point of blocking it all out? Perhaps it’s all of these at once, whirling into a broken cacophony, a maelstrom of youth and fervor, all wondering when that young soul left for once and for all? No album asks or answers that question to such an extent and utter poignance, as Avey Tare and Panda Bear's Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished The tinkered child coming from then 20 year old Avey Tare (David Portner) handling vocals and lyrics, and 19 year old Panda Bear (Noah Lennox) handling percussion and production, is one of the most whimsical, harrowing, and utterly magnificent tapestries of emotion and sound ever released. Moments of utter splendor and beauty, moments of despicable and disturbing noise, moments of the darkest moments and most primal evil committed against man, all this and more is woven through this album and the 10 tracks composing it. From the title track Spirit They’ve Vanished to the near 13 minute odyssey that is Alvin Row, this album documents and details the disillusionment of childhood, growing up and leaving behind the innocence and whimsy and wonder you once held, yet also trying to grow past indelible, inescapable trauma. Wilted capriciousness and disturbed corruption exist within a fulcrum, from jangling piano chords and synths being sliced through by harsh shrill noise and feedback. With all of this starting with the ubiquitous title track, Spirit They’ve Vanished Spirit They’ve Vanished as an opener to this album is so off-kilter and bizzare, yet through its dizziness and almost headache-inducing telepathic rhythms, it sets the stage for the forest of souls, memory and childhood Avey and Panda give life to. Drifting among a cold, dead sea of distorted high pitched feedback and a whirling synth give life to Avey’s soft vocals, embodying the Spirit of youth and young fervor, singing lines like “Turn it fast, as one mild day steals someone’s soul into 20 years”. Untitled is the key moment to this album's aesthetic, as soft whirring piano melodies are cut through with vehementation by blood-curdling noise sounding of a child's utter panicked wailing and shrieking, droning and droning till the screams cease and sinewy vocal cords burst. The nigh-impossible encompassment of repressed trauma, of what exactly was stolen from you, all at once your life and blood essence, is never coming back; when the only thing that can be done is to shriek. Yet from Penny Dreadfuls onward, Spirit They’re Gone takes on a far more melancholic but gentle approach to its whimsy; subtlety and beauty become accompaniments for the harrow of the child's plea as opposed to his harsher cousin chaos, this track being the key teller of this shift in sonic palette Feeling almost as a lullaby for the broken child's spirit, warm piano chords drift atop swirling synthlines constantly ascending and descending in an interstellar loop. Smothered sounding drums chime out and pound their heart into oblivion among Avey’s soft, innocently spry vocals singing into the void for a memory no longer wanting to recall, of the friends lost that might never have been friends to begin with. Chocolate Girl is one of my favorites on the whole album, a beautiful highlight of delicacy and heartful cries of youthful recklessness. Frenetic vocal deliveries atop a beautiful whirling drone and chaotic drum passages give ways to a lavished chorus breakdown carried by acoustic guitar and beautiful synth passages dropping in and out amongst more and more prominent drum passages from Panda; the music itself sounds of fairies and wildlife dancing their merrytime in jubilee. Lyrically this song is an incredible standout, Avey through using the metaphorical concept of his “Chocolate Girl”, he describes a loss of innocence and a tranquil reminiscence of the folly he once held in his imaginary friend, singing for her and so that he might no longer “feast on folly”. In sharp contrast to the pleasantry of the prior track, La Rapet is a song embroiled in misery and darkness, with the spirit-forgone child approaching the Devil within a nightmarish dreamscape, with the protagonist singing of “touching angel shadows on the ceiling” and “starting to rot in their mind, pretty angel” as a means to call for the angels of youth to save them from this inevitability. The droning sounds all slowing and quieting into silence, an inexorable reminder that, even as a young child in a playplace unbeknownst to death, that it’s always guiding your staying hand. Bat You’ll Fly is one of the more disorienting songs on the album, at first sounding pretty and incandescent, but the admirable qualities of the album become discernible as it progresses. Overtop warm guitar plucks and a wonderfully gorgeous synth line comes a dual channel song, delivering 2 completely separate lyrics and stories on both left and right audio channels, whirling into a furor of passion and energy singing for the loss of life and innocence on one side, lines like “But you can still think back to the wild cause happiness was being a child”. Yet on the other fulcrum comes chaos and singing of fairies and the autumn cold, melded together into one binary piece of odd beauty. Now following a interlude-esque track with Someday I’ll Grow to Be as Tall as the Giant, comes the crescendo finish to this record, and one of the most emotionally charged pieces I’ve ever listened to, a song that never fails to render me to tears for the memories held within. This, is Alvin Row To be quite honest, this song is honestly hard for me to even speak about. It opens up a part of me, a damning qualm to my own failures as a person and all the demons in my heart I’ve yet to claim victory against, much in the same way a song like Wake by The Antlers does. Yet, there is no cry of hope, no resolution against the lingering pain in my heart inflicted by people who no longer even know my name; Alvin Row is an utter culmination of the sorrow I feel within my soul for that which has claimed my once childhood innocence, the monsters under my bed and the monsters I let grow closer to me than I ever should have, and for the spirits of death that touch my face every day I am alive. Each individual piano chord slammed down by Aveys manic performance, the multi-layered drumming that switches phase to phase showing the journey of the protagonist and their symbol of childhood manifested as Alvin Row, each beautiful synth passage and knife twisting drones of utter grief, each lyrical passage discussing the symbols of love and life forgotten by time, with Alvin slowly vanishing as our narrator loses the bewitchful youth that once held within them the spirit of love and life: From lines like “Words slip by when I’m silent I have to let so many people down”and “A new apartment and a heart don’t make me old”, all of Alvin Row rips into my soul in ways no other song or any real piece of media has ever done, and yet, I love it to bits. When I put this song on, and just tune out the rest of the peripheral sight, what billows up to the forward thoughts of consciousness, is the halcyon days I’ll never be able to get back, yet are always a part of me. Waking up excited to visit my grandmother who’s no longer with me on this Earth. Fighting shirtless in the rain with my best friend whom I haven't seen in at least 7 years. Sharing the beautiful words of this album's opener to a friend experiencing her own grief and learning to move forward. Crying to this album together with another friend who’s connection to this album is in many ways more ample than my own. Every insignificant memory, every minor embellishment to what makes me Aiden Shaw, is what is churned within me the moment I press play This is my answer to the question proposed early on, what Alvin Row and by extension the whole album, spurs within me the moment I listen, and I close my eyes and remember that which has led me to become who it is that writes this review you’re reading now. Maybe I have suffered in ways no one ever should. Maybe I have hidden parts of myself deep within my consciousness that Spirit They’re Gone has painfully ripped out, especially through La Rapet and Alvin Row. Maybe my sordid and ignominious past has indelibly made me relate with this album in ways not intended by Avey and Panda. Yet all of that is something so human and beautiful, that even when crafted from the broken tapestry of a childhood left fragmented by its own abusive remnants, the juvenile wonder of who I once was, surfaces, at least for a temporary time. My childhood is forever gone, but the memories from it that this album pulls forth show that it will always be a part of me. Even when my own spirit has forever forgotten me, even for the briefest moments, this album helps me remember that. Thank you, everyone who's read this and given this diatribe the time of day. Thank you, Avey Tare and Panda Bear, for culminating childhood agony and regret into a consolidated artform. Thank you, Spirit They’re Gone, Spirit They’ve Vanished, for making me feel, even for a little bit, that I’m not alone “Now my singing voice is gone, my singing voice is gone, my singing voice is gone…” Favorite tracks: Spirit They’ve Vanished, Untitled, Penny Dreadfuls, Chocolate Girl, La Rapet, Bat You’ll Fly, Alvin Row (standout) Least favorite track: N/A

[funeral-clown]

beth i diagnose you with baby syndrome ok anyway here’s part two of the trifecta aka cablepool

Nathan Summers was the most powerful telepath alive. He was more powerful than his mother. He was more powerful than her mentor. He could reach every mind on Earth at once. 

Every mind except one.

Wade Wilson.

Deadpool.

The one person he wanted desperately to trust the most, yet also seemingly the least trustworthy man alive. He was insane, truly insane, and his mind was a beautiful fractured thing. Nathan couldn’t touch it without cutting himself on stray shards of broken psyche. Wade was an enigma. Seemingly transparent, yet always a surprise.

Nate loved him. Did everything in his power to help him, in his own quiet behind the scenes way. Nothing about Wade was quiet or behind the scenes. Nathan appreciated that about him.

But sometimes he had to ask himself how much of it was real.

Wade flirted, yes, but Cable had once seen him flirting with a headless, armless statue, then crying when said statue gave him the cold shoulder. He was warm and convivial, but he shot people in the head convivially. He broke into his apartment regularly, despite Cable happily offering to provide his own on Providence, and he had the habits of a half feral cat. He would slink in at all hours, covered in blood and smelling terrible but still nuzzling himself under Nathan’s considerably large shoulders and practically purring. He kept odd hours.

Nate didn’t always know where he went, what he did, what he ate, but Wade had a habit of coming back after you’ve fed him once.

In a way, Wade reminded him of home. Not the mansion, not Providence, not even Greymalkin, but the war torn world he grew up in. The ravaged hellscape he learned to walk and talk and love in. It had no shortage of scars, of sick, of twisted minds. Wade was a walking talking reminder of the inevitable, if Cable ever lost sight of his mission.

But aside from all that, there was a man. Underneath everything, there was a funny, kind man, with a sense of right and wrong, who loved food and kids and  dressing up and watching Golden Girls marathons. And Nate loved that man. And Wade said he loved him, too. And he believed him. He really did believe him.

But he couldn’t be sure. No one on Earth could lie to him, except for one man.

Wade Wilson.

Deadpool.

He tried not to let that sting. He tried not to let it show. Wade, in his own way, deserved better than that. No matter what anyone said. He just wished he could be sure.

Apparently, despite his best efforts, Wade caught on.

He was at the large communal breakfast with his people, laughing, smiling, watching the children play. He was content, until he heard the noise of the teleporter belt. A heavy weight draped itself across his lap, and he looked at a familiar red masked grin.

“Did you miss me?”

Nate snorted, a fond smile teasing at the edge of his mouth.

“Why, Wade? Were you gone?”

The theatrical shocked gasp made him want to laugh and bury his face in his neck, but they were in public.

“Why, Priscilla! Was that a joke? I’m rubbing off on you! In more ways than one!”

Wade waggled his non-existent eyebrows and stroked Cable’s TO arm.

With a roll of his eyes, he adjusted his body to better support his companion while still allowing himself to eat. Wade pouted before digging into Nate’s plate of fruit.

“Aaaannnyway, Natey-baby, I come here on a specific mission.”

He grunted an acknowledgement.

“Very sexy caveman. But we have a problem, Cable.”

He froze, staring concerned into his eyes. Well, his eye holes. Wade broke into a grin, bottom half of his face exposed.

“Youuuuu don’t trust me!”

Cable blinked, pushing down his slight guilt.

“Wade,” he said softly, “I don’t know how you got that idea, but-”

“Shush your handsome mouth, you emotionally repressed beefcake.”

He snorted.

“OBVIOUSLY you trust me in battle. You know I’ve got your sexy backside covered. I meant emotionally!” He drug out the last word, making an arch with his hands. Some kind of joke, no doubt. “It’s not a surprise, Nate. You’re the world’s biggest control freak, and I’m the world’s biggest wild card. There was bound to be some issues. And don’t get me wrong, if Bea Arthur’s ghost looked my way, I’d leave you in a heartbeat. For at LEAST a month. BUT! That hasn’t happened yet, so for now I’m all yours.”

“You don’t have t-”

“Shushushushushushushushushhhh!” A gloved finger pressed hard against his mouth, contorting his lips. “I don’t blame you, lover! But!” He flipped open one of his many pouches. He pulled out a glowing container, twirling it in his hand theatrically. “Thanks to our good mutual friend, Doctor Strange-”

“You stole something from Strange?”

“I was GIFTED something from Strange! And not something! THIS, my overstuffed burrito of love, is a truth potion.”

Cable’s eyebrows creased.

“Do you want me to drink it?”

Wade snorted.

“No, dummy.” He flicked the cap off. “I’m gonna drink it.”

And with that, he tossed his head back and swallowed it down. Nate tensed, eyes scanning him for any adverse affects. Wade grinned lazily.

“Hey, there, blue eyes,” he crooned, “Were you worried about me?”

“You know I was,” he muttered tersely.

“Awwwwwwwww, Bable, that’s why I love you. I’m literally indestructible, and you still worry a silly old magical potion is gonna treat me bad.”

Nate’s shoulders relaxed.

“Wade-”

“That,” he continued cheerfully, “And your enormous dick.”

Nate choked.

“I mean. Talk about proportionate. I know you didn’t get THAT from your dad, me and Wolvie have been talking-”

“Oh my god,” he whispered, head starting to hurt.

“But baby, wait, that’s only one of the reasons I love you! I also love you for your stupidly naive plan that’s going to get you killed! I love that you think it’s going to work! I love your hope. And your hands. Just. Great hands. Can your TO hand vibrate? That’s irrelevant. But only sort of. I gotta say, I was disappointed that you didn’t have more metal on your, uh, ROD, if you know what I mean-”

“Wade.”

“I’m just saying, the writers are cowards for not going all out!”

“Wade!”

“Oh, right, I’m talking about your dick again. I really love your dick. And your everything. I even love that you’re a bossy jackass! ESPECIALLY in bed. Like. Yeah.”

Nathan’s eyes shut as his face burned red. Wade’s voice had a way of carrying, and several dozen people who had chosen to breakfast there were all staring. Their expressions ranged from shocked to amused.

“Wade there are CHILDREN-”

“That reminds me, it’s not weird that I want to call you daddy like burning, right? Especially considering my relationship with my father, and-” Wade’s own hand shot up, covering his own mouth.

He laughed, tense, before letting go.

“Right. Yes. Small children. Anyway! What I’m trying to say is, I don’t care if you can read my mind or not. I love you. Emotionally. And mentally. Ha, get it, because I’m cra-”

Nate cut him off with a kiss, chest warm with an unfurling emotion.

“Wade,” he whispered, “Thank you. Really. I love you, too. Emotionally.”

“And physically?” Wade shimmied suggestively.

“And physically,” he laughed.

“And I can call you daddy?”

“Why not.”

“And I get exclusive rights to your enormous pe-”

“Wade.”

��Personality, jeez, Nate, get your head out of the gutter!”

Nathan shook his head, grinning. The entire cafeteria was chuckling and avoiding eye contact, and his own face was burning, and he was in love with the man on his lap, and that man loved him. Enough to ask Stephen Strange for help proving it. 

“Wade,” he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too, big guy. I would even love you without the huge dick, because I love you that much.”

“Thank you. That means a lot.”

“But please don’t get rid of it anytime soon, I would miss it.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Ok. Good.” With a loud smack to the cheek and a not-so-subtle grab at the last of his breakfast, Wade got up and started to click through his phone.

“What are you doing.”

“I’ve got to buy enough glow sticks to refill this jar and put it back before Strange notices it’s missing. See ya soon, lover-boy,”

Nathan laughed.

“Good luck, handsome.”

Wade blew him a kiss, winked, and vanished.

Face still pink, Nate went back to his breakfast.

[brightlotusmoon]

I’ve gotten messages about being sent Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stuff. But if you guys really want to buy me something, I would love this specially made insole. I want to see if it will actually work on the Spastic Hemplegic Cerebral Palsy and Autistic Dyspraxia and Ataxia.

Plus I plan on taking up Tai Chi after 22 years. The Michelangelo in my head is my cheerleader. Speed up Tai Chi and it’s mesmerizing. When I dissociate and maladaptive daydreaming takes over, Mikey shows me his moves.

The two suburban fantasy futuristic novels I am writing feature disabled Autistic humans with psionics. The OCs in my Ninja Turtles fanfics help shape my protagonists. My publisher only accepts neurodivergent authors with neurodivergent characters because we are not represented enough. Eventually I might write a separate story about Gaia and her family and sumbit it as original. I love her that much. Summer is new but her background is fully constructed. She may be a OC for 2003 4Kids Mikey but she is completely her own. My lingering choices are making her demisexual and panromantic. If 2003 Mikey falls for her it wouldn’t be cliched stereotypical. I got over my “TMNT falls for OC” phase ten years ago. Now I am using my own life experience with my husband as inspiration. I need an easy gentle friendship with telepathic bonding first, even slower and longer than 2012 Mikey and Gaia. Summer isn’t as psionically powerful as Gaia but she has that same block Mikey had in childhood, prompting Bishop’s desire to acquire her because John Bishop played with her parents’ genetics. See, The Brightest Fire totally has multiple plots! And I do want readers to request and contribute though. I have the overall story. But each chapter will be both a continuous flow and a What If. I know @mysillylittlesoapbox assured me that the TMNT Fandom loves my stuff but would they be willing to contribute ideas to a 2003 4Kids Mikey-centric AU that might not end??

Cold Fire Rising clocked in at between 105,000 and 109,000 words depending on the publishing platform. I can see The Brightest Fire doing the same. I desperately want to show Michelangelo the way Mirage and Archie comics and the movies portrayed him. I want to undo the damage David Wise did with the 1987 David Wise series. I take a lot of inspiration from the magnificent @hummerhouse who writes Mike as a creative, intuitive, empathic, emotionally available, therapeutic voice who reads his family like a synesthetic natural psychic. His ADHD fueled lack of focus, his clueless accidental screwups, his mistakes in battle, his overly healthy ego that boosts others just by being loud and proud … those flaws are part of him.

See, I’ve got my own multiple kinds of neurodivergence, my own brain weasels. I see his character through my own lens of neuropsychology.

I see Michelangelo as easily prone to Major Unipolar Depression, C-PTSD, suicidal thoughts, Anxiety, Panic Disorder, fear of rejection hidden behind inflated self worth that is actually shattered. Specific to ADHD is Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria. Mike wears so many masks to hide all his hurt that the masks have become his permanent behavior. Not even he can remove them. He is the Comedian and the Prankster, he is the jokester who taunts and annoys, and even in his sleep he represses anything hinting at serious moods. He supports his team by being a pillar of light and joy. He can’t remember anything else. What would happen if those masks began to crack? How bad would it get if the hidden worlds of Michelangelo began to reveal themselves?

Where was I? Oh, right. Protalus insoles. That may help me do tai chi while I imagine the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles encouraging me. Without the childish surfer stoner foolhardy personalities.

Mikey is articulate, erudite, full of interpersonal and emotional and kinesthetic intelligences, his raspy rounded guttural tenor soothing like a fairy tale narrator and a sports commentator in one.

I imagine him showing my crippled me how to move, various dances and gymnastic exercises modified and personalized to fit my unique brain damage and its disconnect with muscles and nerves. Periventricular Leukomalacia. Hypoxic Ischemic Encephalopathy. Multiple cardiac arrests while my preterm newborn body was in the NICU. Being pushed from the womb at 26 weeks in 1979 meant that no one knew what they know now. Which means that my characters became my proxies if you will. I only write fanfics about Ninja Turtles because I see Too Much in them. I am grateful that 2003 Mikey was neglected an abused because I can take him and change it. The writers piling on the comic relief, not knowing what to do, making him The Chew Toy and The Butt Monkey and The Gadfly…. It gave me ideas and opportunities. The way Splinter seemed to physically recoil whenever Mikey cracked a joke, that got to me, the way the animators made Splinter’s lip curl in a snarl or sneer had me reading too much. Did Splinter dislike his youngest? How deep did that disappointment run? Was Mike oblivious? Those moments full of third hand embarrassment. And all the times his brothers slapped his head for saying silly observations.

His grudge match with Kluh showed how powerful he is, how much he loved his family. It was over too soon. Leo leading him up that mountain. It needed more. No one believed in him, no one thought his potential was worth anything. It hurt me personally.

After the battle with Ch'rell and Mikey’s wise speech defending Leo, I foolishly thought Mike would become that Sensitive wise one.

When they went to the future and Mike didn’t even take creating his weapons seriously I wanted to strangle the writers.

Cold Fire Rising (and its original) was my tribute to the Mike created by Kevin based on his friend, full of creative passion, dry wit, pure heart, shining optimism, empathy, organic intuition, comedic timing, athletic perfection, therapeutic touch. The Leader, The Muscles, The Brain, The Optimist (The Athlete, The Trickster, The Wild Card, The Artist, The Heart, The Empath) . Not the foolish, dull, dim, dense, pizza-obsessed, inept, useless according to both enemies and allies, background support, the designated youngest who didn’t know any better and needed protection.

Mikey The Lifegiver, which began as a oneshot exploring his role in the team’s psychology, quickly expanded into a powerful AU about Depression, being different, and struggling to both fit in and stand out while being proud to be different. The Sunshine Child took it even further. The Brightest Fire will be my reclaiming of a side of Mikey that should have always been there. Giving him organic psionics that were deliberately stunted, giving him genuine reasons to develop Depression and mood disorders and neurological disabilities, is a way of taking the Mirage Mikey, the Archie Mikey, and the Nickelodeon Mikey and merging them with the 4Kids Mikey via my headcanons.

I also need to figure out which brother really does fit best with 2003 Mikey and why. Probably Donnie. This is why I need reader opinions.

I’ll also work on the first oneshot for the new “reader requests” fic book soon just so my writerbrain can have some exercises. All universes, all versions, all genres, all tropes, all topics, all ratings, any characters, as long as Michelangelo is involved in some way.

[good-beans]

An (updated) list of songs that remind me of characters that no one asked for

Edward Elric:

Pluto - Sleeping at Last

South - Sleeping at Last

Roy Mustang:

Rainy Girl - Andrew McMahon (specifically a royai song)

Point of No Return (acoustic) - Starset

Anger - Sleeping at Last

Riza Hawkeye:

Hold my Heart - Lindsay Stirling (feat. ZZ Ward)

Enemy Fire - Bea Miller (specifically a royai song)

Link (any):

Annie's Song - John Denver (specifically a zelink song)

Avalanche - Walk the Moon (specifically a zelink song)

Link (botw):

Something Wild - Andrew McMahon

Open Your Eyes - Bea Miller

Seven - Sleeping at Last

Zelda (ss):

Sing Me to Sleep - Alan Walker

Heart - Sleeping at Last (specifically a zelink song)

Korra:

Show Your Colors - Genevieve

Serizawa Katsuya:

Crooked Heart - Orlene (specifically a serirei song)

Nine - Sleeping at Last

Teruki Hanazawa:

Telepathic - Starset (specifically a terumob song)

Minegishi Toshiki:

Force of Nature - Bea Miller (specifically a shimamine song)

Genos:

Touch - Sleeping at Last

Percy Jackson:

Rhythm of Love - Plain White T's (specifically a percabeth song)

Nico Di Angelo:

Eight - Sleeping at Last*

*this song actually works for any emotionally repressed character, lol. I've thought about it in terms of Link, botw zelda, Lukas, and a few others but I feel like the lyrics very much line up with Nico which is why I listed it under him