#no more! all shield? like turtle!

[whispering-about-the-tmnt]

Some headcanons regarding TMNT physiology

Over the years, I have come up with some headcanons regarding how I believe the Ninja Turtles' bodies work. I thought that perhaps it might be nice to finally share them with all of you.

These don't apply to all the iterations, of course, but they are pretty well universal in my mind, and I tend to incorporate most of them into my fanfics.

The Turtles (like leatherback sea turtles, echidnas, and some dinosaurs) are mesotherms, meaning they are neither warm nor cold blooded. They are, instead, in a middle-ground: they internally generate heat, but not to a constant temperature. In the Turtles' case, they will shiver when cold, and their bodies will not shut down right away when the temperature dips too low, though they may lose some energy and find it hard to concentrate.

Unlike many other modern reptiles and amphibians, who have a three-chambered heart, the Turtles have four-chambered hearts (like mammals and dinosaurs) that are larger and stronger than average human hearts and located at the center of their chests.

While the average human blood capacity is around five liters, the Turtles have about seven. Much of the blood flows under the shell -- a remnant of their lives as ordinary turtles, whose own blood does so in order to warm them when they bask. This means that the Turtles could lose close to three liters of blood before dying, while a human would only be able to lose two.

Their blood is also highly efficient at clotting, but that also means that storing blood for transfusions is difficult, and so must be directly transfused from one turtle to another in emergency situations.

Owing to their extensive circulatory system, they also have a larger lung capacity than humans and more oxygen-rich blood, and so are able to hold their breath for extended periods of time without adverse effects. Other than this, the Turtles' respiratory system is very much like humans', utilizing a diaphragm to inflate and deflate their lungs.

Like regular turtles, they do not have ribs, but rather their carapaces and plastrons serve that purpose, and they have muscles under their shells that keep their internal organs right where they belong.

Also like regular turtles, their spines curve along the insides of their shells. A direct hit on the center of their shells, then, could cause damage to their spinal column and nervous system, but fortunately their vertebral shields offer a fair amount of protection, so it would take quite an impact.

The Turtles are highly resistant to most infections and diseases, which increases their immunological responses. They do not get sick easily, and they recover quickly.

While their scales are not apparent, they are integrated into their skin, making it tougher than human skin. It takes a very hard hit to raise a bruise, and it is difficult to cut through without a very sharp or pointed blade.

Their bones are similar to humans, but are more resistant to breaking. They also heal quicker and stronger if they are broken.

Their muscles are also very close to human-like, but they are stronger than an average human due to compensating for the extra weight they carry in their shells. Because of this, their ligaments and tendons are also tougher, and it is difficult for them to have a joint dislocated.

Their sense of smell is more acute than humans, but not to an extreme degree. They are also not as bothered by foul smells (though this has more to do with living in a sewer than their physiology).

Their eyes are a bit tougher and more resistant to damage than human eyes due to a protective membrane that covers them. They see a bit better than humans in dark places and underwater.

Their hearing is somewhat more attuned to lower frequencies than human hearing, and is not dependent on external ears but rather an internal auditory system (making direct damage to their hearing unlikely).

They are capable of being knocked unconscious, but it takes a significant impact. Permanent or lingering damage to their brains is unlikely due to their structure, and so they also do not tend to suffer the same side-effects that humans would in the same circumstances (nausea, memory loss, etc.).

Although their nutritional needs are similar to humans, they do not need to eat every day, and in fact can get by quite well without food for a week if necessary (though they won't enjoy it). When food is readily available, however, they will eat as much as possible to store up energy. Their metabolism does not slow down when they do not eat, so overexerting themselves when they haven't had any food for a while can burn them out suddenly.

Their sleep schedules are much like most diurnal animals, though they are able to stay awake for extended periods of time and can get by on little sleep, if necessary. There have been times when they have been awake for days on end, getting by on short one hour naps here and there. In general, though, they like to have a regular sleep/wake cycle.

Like other reptiles, the Turtles never stop growing throughout their lifetimes; however their growth is slow, topping off at about 1-2 inches every five years.

Does anyone have anything they would like to add to the list? I actually had fun compiling it!

[princesseilish]

The One With the Late Birthday

Navy!Paige Bueckers x Mom!Reader Warnings: Heavy emotional moments, guilt, fluff, child angst, reunion tears, healing Synopsis: Post-deployment, Paige has just come home from 8 months away

The house had been decorated anyway.

A sad little banner from Target still fluttered above the couch.

The balloons had all deflated.

The frosting-stained paper crown Hazel had made for Violet was crumpled in the toy bin. And the “2” candle Y/N never lit still sat untouched on the counter.

Because Violet didn’t want a cupcake without Paige.

She didn’t want to sing without Paige.

She didn’t want to do anything without Paige.

And even though she was only two, the girl had made her heartbreak known—through tantrums, through refusing to say “cheese” for birthday photos, and most of all, through tears when the phone screen came on instead of her mom walking through the front door.

Y/N hadn’t known a toddler could grieve like that.

But Violet? Violet loved Paige in a way that was big and raw and entirely hers.

And Paige missed it.

All of it.

Now, eight months later, the hangar was loud with cheering, flags waving, and footsteps pounding toward long-awaited hugs.

Y/N stood at the edge of the crowd, holding Hazel’s hand, heart pounding so hard she couldn’t breathe.

And Violet?

Violet was clutching her plush turtle like it was a shield and refusing to let go of Y/N’s leg.

“She’s nervous,” Hazel whispered wisely, pushing her curls out of her face. “I told her Mommy’s still Mommy even if she missed the cake.”

Y/N blinked back tears. “That’s very kind of you.”

Hazel shrugged. “It’s just her second birthday. There’s, like, fifty more coming.”

But Violet didn’t seem to agree.

She hadn’t smiled all morning.

She hadn’t spoken a word.

And when the crowd parted and Paige stepped off that tarmac, duffel slung over one shoulder, grinning—Hazel sprinted.

“MOMMY!!”

Paige caught her midair, lifted her into a bear hug, and immediately started crying.

Hazel cupped her face and whispered, “You look like a grown-up again.”

Paige laughed wetly. “I missed you so much, bug.”

But her eyes drifted quickly to the still figure behind Y/N.

To Violet.

Frozen. Silent.

Eyes wide and wet and locked on her like she was watching a ghost.

Y/N crouched beside her. “Baby, you can go hug her.”

Violet didn’t move.

She pressed her cheek into Y/N’s shoulder, breathing hard.

Paige dropped to her knees a few feet away, suddenly not so brave.

“Hi, sweet girl,” she whispered, voice cracking. “Happy birthday.”

Violet’s bottom lip trembled.

“I missed your party,” Paige said, trying to smile. “I missed you. I—I hated every second of being gone. I thought about you every night. Every single one.”

She reached out slowly, not quite touching her. “You don’t have to hug me yet. I just want you to know I love you. So, so much.”

Silence.

And then—quiet, broken, and so, so small:

“You didn’t come.��

Paige flinched.

“I know,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

Violet’s eyes welled up again. “You said on the phone you’d try.”

“I did try,” Paige said, choking. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t want to miss it. I would’ve given anything to be there.”

Hazel stood behind her, arms crossed. “She cried when she saw the cupcakes. Didn’t even want the purple one.”

Paige blinked hard. “I cried too.”

Violet looked down at her turtle.

Then, slowly, she took one shaky step forward.

Then another.

Then another—until she was standing in front of Paige, hands balled at her sides, lip wobbling again.

“You forgot me,” she whispered.

Paige’s voice broke completely. “Never. I never forgot you. Not for one second.”

Violet looked like she might run.

And then she threw herself into Paige’s chest with a sob so loud it cracked Y/N open from the inside out.

Paige caught her like she was made of glass.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, again and again, kissing her curls, cradling her back, rocking them both to the rhythm of relief. “I’m here now. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

Violet cried into her shoulder. Big, gasping, toddler sobs—like all her heartbreak had been building up for months, waiting for her mom’s arms to hold it.

Y/N wrapped her arms around them both, Hazel weaving in too, a perfect little pack of four tangled in sun and sweat and forgiveness.

And finally—finally—Violet pulled back just far enough to look up at her.

“You still my mommy?”

Paige’s smile trembled. “Always.”

That night, Paige didn’t even make it to the guest pillow.

Violet curled around her like a baby koala in bed, hand resting on her chest, cheeks damp but peaceful.

Hazel had fallen asleep next to Y/N on the couch mid-movie.

And Paige—exhausted, undone, overflowing—whispered into Violet’s hair, “I’ll be there for the next birthday. And the next. And every cake after.”

Violet didn’t respond.

But her little hand clutched Paige’s shirt like a lifeline.

And Paige finally slept like she hadn’t in eight months.

7:04 a.m.

Paige woke up with a foot in her ribs.

Hazel’s foot, to be specific — her long-legged, five-year-old foot, sticky from fruit snacks and somehow wedged right under Paige’s arm like she’d been trying to stretch into another dimension.

Across the bed, Violet was still asleep, curled against Paige’s side, drooling into her shirt.

And Paige? Paige couldn’t stop smiling.

She didn’t even care that she had maybe three hours of sleep under her belt and a neck cramp from sharing a pillow with two chaotic children.

She was home.

The kind of home that breathed against you, kicked you in the night, and clung to your hoodie like it was a lifeline.

Y/N padded in quietly, already in leggings, two mugs in hand.

“Good morning, Navy wife,” she teased, setting Paige’s coffee down on the nightstand.

Paige groaned softly, sitting up. “Is it morning? Or a fever dream where I’m still deployed but also covered in children?”

Y/N laughed. “You’re here. And one of them snuck a graham cracker under your pillow, by the way.”

Paige fished it out and held it up like a trophy. “Violet?”

“Mmhmm.”

She looked down at the little girl still breathing softly against her chest. “She didn’t let go of me once last night.”

“She hasn’t let go of you since the tarmac.”

Paige swallowed. “Do you think she forgave me?”

Y/N knelt by the bed. “I think she missed you so much she didn’t know what forgiveness was. She just wanted you back.”

8:17 a.m. — Pancake chaos.

Hazel insisted on making breakfast.

She was now on a “Big Sister Chef” kick that involved an apron, two cracked eggs on the counter, and about three tablespoons of flour in Paige’s hair.

Paige was trying to flip pancakes.

Violet was trying to “help” by handing Paige random kitchen utensils.

At one point, she brought Paige a potato masher and whispered, “This one for the love pancakes.”

Paige kissed her forehead. “This one’s for the compost, baby.”

Hazel climbed onto the stool beside her. “Mommy, look! I made a heart pancake. Kinda.”

“It looks like a blob with ambition,” Y/N said gently, smiling over her coffee.

Paige laughed so hard she nearly dropped the spatula.

“I missed this,” she whispered. “All of it. Even the burnt ones.”

10:42 a.m. — The guilt.

Paige sat on the living room floor with Violet in her lap, slowly brushing her hair.

The toddler was unusually quiet, not even squirming.

Hazel was sprawled on the couch reading aloud from a picture book about ants.

Y/N was folding laundry nearby, humming softly.

“I feel like I missed too much,” Paige said under her breath, her fingers pausing in Violet’s curls. “I don’t know how to just…drop back in.”

Y/N looked over gently. “You don’t drop in. You rebuild. With them. Every day.”

Violet turned around, squinting at Paige. “You sad?”

Paige shook her head, voice thick. “Just really happy to see you again.”

Violet wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck. “No more leaving, okay?”

“Okay,” Paige whispered. “No more leaving.”

1:09 p.m. — Nap time negotiations.

It took forty-five minutes, three storybooks, one emergency stuffed turtle rescue, and Hazel gently whispering “Violet, you’re acting like a grumpus” before the toddler finally passed out on Paige’s chest.

Paige didn’t move for half an hour.

Didn’t even reach for her phone.

She just stared down at her daughter’s sleeping face, memorizing the weight of her again.

Y/N came in with a blanket.

Paige looked up, tearful. “She smells like oatmeal.”

“She missed you like air.”

3:47 p.m. — Backyard adventures.

Hazel made Paige wear a tiara.

“I’m the Bug Queen,” Hazel announced, “and you’re the royal guard. Mommy is the Queen of Snacks. Violet is the baby dragon who eats the strawberries.”

Violet roared softly and shoved half a berry in her mouth.

Paige saluted. “Yes, Your Bug-ness.”

They dug for worms, blew bubbles, and spent 45 minutes drawing sidewalk chalk murals of their “castle garden.” Paige’s drawing of Y/N got a mustache courtesy of Hazel.

“I was going for eyelashes!” she said defensively.

“Sure you were,” Y/N laughed from the porch.

Paige couldn’t stop watching her.

And when she met her gaze, Paige mouthed: thank you.

Y/N just smiled and mouthed back: welcome home.

6:30 p.m. — Dinner & declarations.

Violet climbed into Paige’s lap at dinner. Refused her own chair.

Hazel recapped every single bug fact she’d learned while Paige was gone.

Paige listened like it was gospel.

Y/N passed the salad. “You still okay being climbed on like jungle gym furniture?”

“I’ll take bruised ribs over eight months of empty arms,” Paige said softly, stroking Violet’s back.

Violet stuffed a piece of broccoli into Paige’s mouth and nodded. “Eat. Get strong again.”

Hazel added: “Yeah. Strong moms don’t miss birthdays.”

Paige winced slightly.

Y/N touched her knee gently under the table.

“She’s five,” she whispered. “And she loves you.”

8:45 p.m. — Bedtime, finally.

Paige lay between Hazel and Violet, both curled into her like gravity.

“Mommy?” Hazel whispered.

“Yeah, baby?”

“You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be ours.”

Paige blinked back tears. “I can do that.”

Later, when the house was finally still, Paige lay in bed with Y/N, arm slung around her waist, breathing deep.

“It feels like they grew up without me.”

Y/N kissed her shoulder. “They didn’t. They waited.”

And tomorrow?

Tomorrow would come with more mess, more noise, more hugs, more guilt, more healing.

But Paige was home.

And that was enough to begin again.

It started with a folded piece of paper.

Slipped under the fruit bowl between breakfast mess and crayon drawings, marked with a seal Paige didn’t want to see again.

She didn’t open it right away.

She just stood there, hands on the counter, eyes blurry, while the girls screamed in the backyard over who got to name the ladybug they found.

Y/N walked in, wiping her hands on a towel. She didn’t need to ask.

Her heart sank when she saw Paige’s face.

“Already?”

Paige nodded once.

Hazel’s laugh echoed from outside. Violet was singing something about mud and cupcakes.

The sound made Paige’s throat close.

“Not until October,” she managed. “But it’s real this time.”

They didn’t tell the girls right away.

They waited — until after dinner, after Hazel’s reading time, after Violet was tucked into bed with her turtle under her arm and one leg draped over Paige’s chest like always.

But Hazel?

Hazel was old enough to feel things in the space between words.

She’d noticed the way Y/N didn’t finish her tea that night. The way Paige kept zoning out. The way they both kept holding her a little too tight.

So when Y/N knelt beside her bed and brushed her hair back, Hazel asked:

“Is Mommy leaving again?”

Paige’s heart cracked clean in two.

She sat down at the foot of the bed and took Hazel’s hand.

“Yeah, baby,” she said quietly. “I will be. Not right away. But soon.”

Hazel was quiet. Her little chest rose and fell beneath her pajamas, and she looked so much older in that moment — like five had taught her too many lessons too fast.

“Why do you always have to go?” she whispered. “Why can’t someone else be brave?”

Y/N reached for her. “Hazel…”

But Paige stopped her gently.

“No,” she said. “It’s a fair question.”

She scooted up beside her daughter, folded their fingers together.

“I go because I made a promise. To help people. To protect people. Even when it’s hard.”

Hazel blinked. “But we need you.”

“I know, baby. And that’s the hardest part.”

Hazel’s lip wobbled. “I don’t want Violet to cry like that again. She cried for days.”

Paige leaned in and pressed her forehead to Hazel’s. “That’s why we’re telling you now. So you have lots of time with me before I go. So we can make happy things to hold onto when it’s hard.”

Hazel was quiet again, but then whispered:

“Can I make a countdown chain?”

Paige’s voice broke. “Of course.”

“With glitter?”

Y/N choked out a laugh. “Obviously.”

Hazel wrapped her arms around Paige’s neck. “If I hug you every day until you go, will it last long enough to get you back?”

Paige squeezed her tight. “It already will.”

A week later Violet found the countdown chain.

She pointed to it, blinking. “That’s a birthday?”

“No, baby,” Y/N said softly. “It’s for when Mommy has to go work again.”

Violet froze.

Her turtle dropped to the floor.

“Go away again?” she asked, so small it hurt.

Paige knelt beside her. “Just for a little while. Not forever.”

“You just got here,” Violet said, tearfully, accusingly.

Paige picked her up and held her close. “I know. I don’t want to go either. But I’ll come back. Just like last time.”

“You missed my birthday,” Violet sobbed.

Paige kissed her wet cheek. “I’ll never miss another. I promise. We’ll celebrate early if we have to. I’ll draw you a birthday card every day I’m gone if that helps.”

Violet cried harder. “No cards! I want you!”

Y/N crouched beside them, eyes shining. “We’re gonna make you a book, baby. One with pictures of you and Mommy doing all your favorite things. So you can look at it every time you miss her.”

Violet sniffled. “Even eating snacks?”

“Especially snacks,” Paige said. “And you can call me anytime. Show me all your bug friends and your pancake mess and your silly little turtle dance.”

“I mad at you,” Violet whispered into her hoodie.

“I know,” Paige whispered back. “And I still love you.”

Violet pulled back just enough to wipe her nose on Paige’s collar. “I love you, too. But I really mad.”

Paige smiled through tears. “That’s okay, baby. You can be mad. I’ll still come back.”

That night, Y/N and Paige lay in the quiet hum of the monitor, listening to Violet’s soft sleep sounds.

Hazel’s paper chain hung on the wall now — already five links shorter, already glittering with drawings of hugs and hearts and bugs.

“You think they’ll be okay?” Paige asked.

Y/N turned toward her. “I think they’ll miss you every single day. But they’ll never doubt you’re coming back.”

Paige stared at the ceiling. “Sometimes I feel like I live in two lives. The one where I serve… and the one where I belong.”

Y/N touched her chest. “Then come back to the one where you belong. Every single time.”

Paige kissed her.

And prayed October would take its time getting here.

did I eat or what ??

[hasmadara]

Some Beast Wars redesigns!! Annotations below :3

Edit: wow mobile quality is terrible, i hate you tumble

INFERNO

I went very heavy with the knight imagery, serving his rrroyalty!! Went with a mix between a trapjaw ant and turtle ant because I wanted a shield. He has dual flame-throwers on his back/shoulders connected to the ant-butt because might as well add another mix with the yellow crazy ant, that sprays acid (in this case flammable liquid) through it's rear!

Being grabbed by those extremely strong, extremely fast mandibles of the trapjaw ant before being blasted by a flamethrower to the face sounds like a wonderful time <3

RATTRAP

Rattrap I wanted it to feel like an Italian mobster, I think I went a little too on-the-nose but, I like it! He has a fedora-type helmet, with a lovely cigar alongside some hidden suspenders and I tried to make the rat head have a tie - on his wrists he has tools such as lockpicking devices, torch, other things ;)

In my continuity he's primarily infiltration and sabotage, with a heavy preference for explosives

RAMPAGE

Rampage was fun, I stuck heavily to his BW design but I wanted the mutant freak part of him to be more emphasised. So, the crab has teeth. And 6 legs? I gave him extra arms because it would be quite hard to grab things with those mega pincers, but also extra arms are cool as fuck. He also has spurs and leg-guns because, again, cool as fuck. I love how his biolights turned out!

I didn't want to spend time drawing massive guns but he does still have his rotating grenade launcher thing - it has all sorts: hellfire missiles, acid bombs, napalm grenades, and other nightmares <3

DEPTH CHARGE

Depth Charge was very fun also, I wanted his colouring to be extremely opposite to Rampage's so he has very muted cool tones while Rampage is blindingly bright. He has twin remora-shotgun things on his shoulders, and I wanted the manta to be more manta, less metallic. I enjoyed doing the gold highlights to add a bit of grandeur and elegance to him.

In my continuity his primary weapon is the Blades of Chaos from GoW :'))

[kathaynesart]

So I read your analysis of Donnie’s ninpo and I think it’s really interesting. I find it funny that the last turtle to hone his ninpo is now one of the top two skilled in it.

I did want to ask though, what’s up with the little Donnie projection he has flying around? I’m assuming he’s not actually doing all the poses the little guy does like laying on the ground when it lays on Mikey’s palms. Is this his Ninpo, or the visors they wear, or possibly a third option I haven’t taken into consideration yet? I imagine it’d be a little draining to make a perfect detailed replica (hehe) of yourself flying around with energy that could be going into shields and the sort. Also the little guy can talk to people! Is that their visors or can Donnie’s ninpo allow him to almost throw his voice literal miles away?

Just curious about how your Donnie works! Your AU is REALLY amazing and I look forward to every part! Genuinely you are such a big inspiration to me :3

Also feel free to ignore this if someone has asked it already <3

Ah-ha! Good catch. For the most part what we see is in fact a projection of whatever pose Donnie is actually making. It's basically just a hologram of him and uses minimal energy since the mystic fragments in the boys' armor is doing most of the work for him (this includes voice projection, because *mystic science* and I'm lazy). He just can't go very far from them since it's their armor that is projecting him.

However, we do get to see one other projection of him in the latest chapter. Namely the "Mini Donnies."

If the Donnie projection we usually see is similar to a "live feed" then these little guys are more like animated gifs. They're basic images of him used as indication markers for his brothers. Had this scene been fully animated you would have seen that these little versions of Donnie are just doing a back and forth 2 frame hammer animation. That way his brothers could see if he was mending all the spots on the shield. (Sure they couldn't see the backside of the shield but boy was panicking haha.)

As far as Donnie laying down that is TOTALLY something the real Donnie is doing right now. Bro went and exhausted himself then crawled back through Leo's portal in a much less flashy fashion. He's probably laying on Raph's pillow pile back in their dorm now. Thanks for your question!

[grilledcheese-savage]

Opposites Detract AU part 2

I left some things out but here’s a clearer picture of what the rest of the story would have been like.

Pls read the og post right here

https://www.tumblr.com/grilledcheese-savage/763805500110487552/new-au-idea-opposites-detract-i-came-up-with-this

For some reason it won’t let me link it normally

Ok so as you can see in the picture, Marinette is Multimouse… but is that all she is?

For the first “season” or less, she is a civilian. She is free to live her life normally without having to take any unnecessary risks. Until she runs into this old man (master fu) and helps him out. I always thought this would be during feast or a situation like that, where either he’s in turtle hero form and she acts as a shield for him, or helps him like the first episode as a civilian. Either way, Master fu remembers this. He tests her more than he did chat noir and la coccinelle because it turned out pretty poor last time. He has paranoia. But Marinette is a pure soul so he leads her to his shop and reveals the miraculous to her eventually, UNBEKNOWNST TO CHAT NOIR AND LA COCCINELLE. Because while he was hoping the next guardian would have been ladybug, he needed a person he could truely trust. And that turned out to be Marinette. She becomes the guardian for the same reasons in the original, it becomes to dangerous for him to continue and he loses his memory. But Marinette continues to work in his shop (a cover for guardian duties).

Lila and Adrien also “work” at his antique shop but neither of them know she’s the new guardian (yet) I’m not sure if they’d find out immediately after master fu has to quit, or Marinette keeps up the charade a little longer. I think it’s more fun to imagine her knowing more than she let on.

When she meets master fu at first and starts training under him, she doesn’t get to keep a miraculous. She works under a lot more conditions than the others do since her job keeping secrets is incredibly important and fu still struggles to trust her. Eventually she proves herself of course, but the pressure of being guardian is so much to handle.

Adrien was going to be a guardian at first since he gained more of Fu’s trust than Lila, but since he has the Kwami of destruction, just like that other guardian man that I can’t remember the name of, they all have some kind of bias against them. He couldn’t trust him not to take the miraculous of the ladybug and grant a wish, even if he kept that from him. He also just doesn’t get along with La coccinelle at all, so he couldn’t have someone with a bias be guardian (he’s hypocritical).

More about Adrien: As cat noir he doesn’t get to be his flirtatious persona he originally has, instead he takes on a more serious altruistic approach since he is pretty hated unanimously by the public. His persona becomes more of a lie, as he tries to undo all of the hatred that came from the destruction of Paris that first day. Think of goro akechi in persona 5; he learns to distain his constant visual presence, the fact on and off the job he is constantly being watched. There’s not a moment that either one of his selves is on tv. And because he’s being filmed there are quick moments the news capture of him being kind to the public and turning around with a resentful face on. He doesn’t totally get to enjoy his freedom as chat noir since the police always try to capture him. But they fail to, and there’s a still a small few of fans of theirs that defend them.

Basically he gets cancelled a lot. 😅

La coccinelle is allowed to pick a miraculous to help her ONE TIME by Master fu, and she picked Chloe Bougeious with the bee miraculous. Chloe accepted and caused a lot of mayhem. Which was fixed. But after that was when he met Marinette and started planning defense and strategy with her. So the next time they needed help, he sent Marinette as multimouse which pissed Lila off because it made her think master fu still didn’t believe she could handle it. When really it was a mix of both not trusting her, and the fact that Marinette was prepared for a lot longer then she was.

This makes lila have a one-sided beef with multimouse, even though she’s secretly her civilian crush Marinette. Love square? Ehh. What Lila doesn’t realize is behind the scenes Marinette doesn’t hold any ill-will for Coccinelle. In fact, she defends her to master fu and convinces him to give Lila more freedom more often. But of course, doesn’t know this. And the unspoken beef continues.

Now, for Kagami and Luka’s place in this story.

While Marinette is a civilian she meets Luka and they become friends very quickly. Same with Adrien and kagami. But at this point in time, Adrien doesn’t really have a crush on kagami, since the slippery slope of coincidences caused Adrien to have a crush on Marinette first. Kagami however seems to be the only one who sees this darkness brewing in Adrien (emo I know, but I digress) Kagami, does in fact, gain a crush on Adrien because she thinks he’s like her- lost in this world, without a lot of friends to help.

Luka and Marinette however, still get together but after Marinette becomes a guardian. They don’t last very long because of this, because her constant work between the bakery, the antique shop, guardianship etc. makes her late to everything they plan to do together. Luka ends things believing that Marinette only likes him as a friend and that’s why she puts work ahead of him everytime. This breaks Marinette’s heart, even though she understands, so she accidentally ends up saying in front of Adrien that she’s not dating anymore, and is focusing on her career. Marinette is oblivious to the fact that both lila and Adrien have a crush on her.

Marinette sees that Luka is responsible and puts his feelings aside for the greater good and chooses him to have the snake miraculous part time. When she is multimouse, she’s pretty awkward around him since things left off kind of sad, but since Superion doesn’t know that Marinette is multimouse, he just assumes she’s shy or doesn’t like him. This is obviously not true. In fact, Luka becomes the more “chat noir” type in this, teasing the group and very lightly flirting with her. BECAUSE IT WOULD BE FUNNY AND UNPREDICTABLE. I see him being very suave with his harp. Like every musician is lol.

Kagami and Adrien don’t work out either, because deep down, even if he is getting more resentful of being pushed around and molded into a person he doesn’t know, he still is naturally kind hearted and knows that his resentment won’t last….. hopefully. And Kagami only has that, and fencing in common with him, at least in this universe so they stay friends. Plus she meets Felix anyways.

Speaking of Felix. He.. generally stays the same? Here’s the difference, when he say them on the news on day he judged them. Then when he saw/ met more of chat noir, he started to believe that they were like him and saw the world the same way as he did and starts to commit similar atrocities in the show with the peacock miraculous in hopes that since they were the same, they’d leave him be.

Since chat noir is growing increasingly disdainful, he more or less does want to leave him alone, but the part of him that knows it’s his duty wins every time since he is , still, a little more responsible in this than the show.

Also a reminder, Adrien doesn’t start out like this, he’s still the show’s version at the beginning, he just changes with every situation they find themselves in. So when Felix eventually comes to meet him, he assumes Adrien is the same as always- a goody two shoes who does what he’s told. That couldn’t be further from the truth 😂

Adrien is similar to Felix but still mostly tries to act like his old self, since it’s easier and gets him places. But when Felix comes over and is cold, Adrien gets frustrated and his resentful, chat noir self comes to life. Felix was so stunned by the slip up that he just, shut up. And left. Very confused.

Anyways I have many different ways of imagining Felix seeing the more contemptuous Adrien. He becomes much more interested in him. He wants to learn more, because maybe he’s not alone.

Idk what do you guys think? Should Adrien be the guardian? What would Alya’s role be? Pls reblog more ideas and add on to the AU!

Thanks!

[hibiscusseaart]

Had a dream today and I'm evolving it as I go here

The main idea that Rin didn't die when she tried to unalive herself by Kakashi's hand, but Obito was already traumatized and got in with Madara's Moon Eye plan. So yada-yada, she's the jinchuriki of Sanbi. BUT the difference was that she decided to come out of the closet (a real tight one cuz of her clan but she almost just DIED what to regret now) that she's actually a guy. So FTM Rin guys. Rin is he/him from now on.

He wouldn't change his personality and crush on Kakashi much. Dude is a medic, have you met medics? My extended family has a lot of medics in ER and other and let me tell you, they're ruthless and give 0 fucks.

Oh and since he's a medic he has top notch access to remove his own boobs and change his hormones fucking manually.

I think he would rethink his crush on Kakashi, like, man, he's a loser, plus it's hard to crush on someone who you thought killed you (even tho you made him) AND Kakashi has doomed love with 'dead' Obito and it's a bummer.

Idk about his name tho, he probably would change it just to, unknowingly, create more confusion for poor Obito, who is SURE that Rin is dead-dead and fucking Konoha didn't even made a grave for her and Kakashi doesn't even VISIT.

Madara and Zetsu obviously don't tell him about his development. They don't need him to have a hope in this world again.

Kakashi is just glad that he didn't kill his teammate and maybe they connect better since "Rin" (listen i NEED a name for him, but i have 0 ideas about meaning or what ever. maybe he'd take something to honor Obito's memory?) doesn't crush on him anymore and maybe he's trans too?? idk about it yet but he might act warmer to "Rin" now.

So Obito is just confused, like WHO is this dude from Nohara clan who is now with Kakashi ALL the time (they're still best friends). He doesn't connect that this brown haired (!) medic (!!) from Nohara clan (!!!) with the same marks (!!!) same age as them (!!!!!) might be Rin. like no, nope, Rin a nice gentle lady, not this smoking dude who yells at Kakashi and curses at him cuz he run away from hospital again.

So yeah Obito is just not impressed. But intrigued. And jealous. He stalks Kakashi AND this guy all the time. May develop a crush on both, cuz "Rin" is still the same at his core.

Kakashi would still go in ANBU cuz Minato asked him (still not sure about it, like yeah lets put deeply traumatized 13 yo in assasin squad good job) and stuff.

So idk how canon would go from there, like i doubt that Minato would let 14 yo jinchuriki near another one at this tense situation, even tho "Rin" could've help.

So yeah Kushiha and Minato die, "Rin" barely holds onto the Sanbi but Obito finds out that the guy is holding them. He doesn't connects the dots. Or he does? His mind just CAN'T hold on to the fact that his Rin MIGHT survived.

But maybe "Rin" was closer to the place where they sealed Kuubi in Naruto (maybe he ran there cuz there's Kuubi rampaging and he HAS to help) so Minato entrusted Naruto to him, not to fucking Sandaime.

So yeah, now "Rin" is Naruto's legal dad at the age of 14 and no one can fucking take him away cuz a) it was Minato's dying wish; and b) just fucking TRY to peer "Rin" away from Naruto, you'll get your hand bitten off and NO arguments work, cuz "Rin", who was trained by Kushina in jinchuriki stuff, can make some sort of turtle shield and he hides in it with his new baby and no one can do anything.

And no one can protect baby jinchuriki better than the other jinchuriki so it's fine. Everyone just accepts it.

(Isobu laughs at Kurama cuz haha im the older sibling now :))

Naruto is bullied less but I think no one can tell him about his parents cuz Sandaime sucks ass. But "Rin" drops HUGE hints cuz he hates Sandaime now too. Like no shit Tsunade left.

Idk what would happen with Obito if he finds out about "Rin's" identity. he'd come back crawling and crying probably. Maybe try to kidnap him and cry more in Kamui.

update: added sketch

[stellaspectral]

I have two requests, both with the Bayverse turtles. This is the first:

Leonardo x Female Reader.

Angst with a happy ending, hurt/comfort.

She is a vigilante like the turtles and they met while they were saving New York from yet another enemy, after this meeting they all became friends. Some time later all of them undertook another mission together where the Reader was seriously injured and Leonardo blames himself for it + Some introspection from Leo on the dangers of their job and how actually easy it is to lose the person you love forever. You can decide if they are already a couple or if they haven't confessed their feelings yet ;). Thank you so much in advance if you decide to write it!

A/N: Hey, anon! I ended up going with Leo and the reader having not yet confessed their feelings. I think I subconsciously wrote it that way as an excuse to inject more angst 😂 (Also, I hope this is a happy enough ending for you 😅)

Enjoy! 💖

Cost of the Fight (angst)

💙 Bayverse Leonardo/Female Reader 💙

CWs: Description of injuries, blood mention, near-death experience themes, anxiety/guilt, angst, hurt/comfort. All characters are aged-up.

Pain is the first thing you register.

It’s a vicious, grinding ache deep in your left side, stealing your breath with every attempt to draw it in. It radiates outwards, a hot, throbbing map of injury beneath layers of gauze you can feel pressing against your skin. Cold sweat has plastered strands of hair to your temples.

The second thing you register is the smell—a sharp antiseptic clashing with the familiar, damp scent of the sewers. You force your eyelids open. They feel heavy, gritty like sandpaper. The low, ambient light of the lair takes a moment to resolve into familiar shapes.

You’re lying on a cot, tucked beneath a thick, worn blanket that feels surprisingly soft against your clammy skin. And as you take in your surroundings, your gaze snags on the figure sitting beside you.

Leo.

Though he’s not sitting so much as slumped, his frame coiled tight with tension. His hands are clenched into fists on his knees. Dirt smudges his skin, and a fresh scratch runs along his jawline. His gaze is fixed around your heavily bandaged torso, his brow ridge drawn together in a knot of worry … and something else.

Guilt.

Memories of the mission surface in jagged pieces. Rain, cold and stinging, slicked the rooftops like black ice. Chaotic clashes against remnants of the Foot Clan. You were covering Leo, trying to keep the smaller, more agile combatants from swarming him while he dealt with a heavier brute. Then, a blur of movement from your blind spot—and you shoved Leo out of the way, taking the brunt of the attack yourself, which sent you flying and hitting something hard.

The world exploded in agony as Leo reached you first. You remember his panicked voice, distorted by the rain and your fading consciousness, calling your name. You recall being lifted and him shielding you with his own body as he yelled orders, coordinating a retreat under fire.

Then darkness.

Now, in the relative quiet of the lair, his silence is deafening. You try to shift, a wince escaping your lips as pain flares. Instantly, Leo’s head snaps up, his eyes finally meeting yours. The shadows under them are stark, evidence that he hasn’t been sleeping properly—and you wonder how long you’ve been out.

“Hey,” you rasp, your throat scratchy. You try for a weak smile. “Didn’t think sewer tunnels came with room service.”

A small, humorless sound escapes him. “Don’t,” he says, his voice low, gravelly, tight with suppressed emotion. “Please, don’t make light of this.” As he leans closer, you see the maelstrom of emotions in his gaze: relief, fear, and a layer of guilt so thick it feels like a physical weight in the air between you. “How … how do you feel?”

“Like I argued with a freight train and lost,” you admit, wincing again. “But I’ll live. Donnie patched me up, right?”

“He did,” he confirms, but his gaze drops back to your bandages. “It … was bad. Cracked ribs, internal bruising, minor concussion … You also lost a lot of blood.” He swallows hard. “It was too close.” He reaches out, his hand hovering hesitantly over your uninjured arm before gently settling on your shoulder. His touch is warm, grounding, but you can feel a slight tremor in his fingers.

You see the self-blame etched onto his features, the way his jaw tightens. Know him well enough by now, after months of fighting alongside him and his brothers, sharing late-night pizza, and stealing quiet moments on rooftops just talking. You know how heavily the burden of leadership weighs on him, how personally he takes every setback, every injury.

You’ve seen him shoulder blame before, but never like this.

“It wasn’t your fault, Leo,” you insist, trying to project conviction through the pain. “You know it wasn’t. That attack surprised us all. My choice to move, my risk.”

“I should have seen it,” he counters, his voice tight with frustration as he lowers his gaze to your torso. “I’m the leader. I’m supposed to anticipate threats, protect the team. Protect you. I couldn’t react fast enough.” He balls his fists again before looking you straight in the eye; the vulnerability there makes your heart clench. “I watched you go down. I thought …”

You see the storm raging within him. The fear, the regret, the frightening realization of what could have happened. This life you all lead, with the constant danger, the line between success and catastrophe—it’s thin. You see him grappling with the stark reality of that one wrong move that could mean losing someone permanently.

Losing you.

The unspoken feelings that simmer between you—the charged glances, the lingering touches, the way your orbits seem to naturally pull towards each other—make this unspoken fear even more potent. He almost lost you before he ever had the chance to tell you … well, whatever it is he feels. Whatever it is you feel.

“You thought what, Leo?” you press gently. You need him to say it, to voice the fear clawing at him, because only then can you start to dismantle it.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he whispers, the admission ripped from him, raw and frayed. “Watching you fall, seeing you just lie there, so still … the blood …” He breaks off, shaking his head as if trying to dislodge the image burned into his memory. “I thought you were gone. Because of me. Because I wasn’t fast enough, wasn’t smart enough, wasn’t good enough to keep you safe.”

The weight of his words settles heavily in the quiet lair. This goes beyond leadership guilt. This is personal, deeply felt. He’s not just mourning a tactical failure; he’s mourning the potential loss of you.

You reach out, your fingers brushing against the back of his hand where it now rests on the cot beside your hip. He doesn’t pull away. Instead, his hand turns, a silent invitation. You lace your fingers through his, the contact sending a small jolt through both of you.

“Listen to me. What we do comes with risks. We all know that. Every time we go topside, we know things can go wrong. It wasn’t a failure of leadership. It was the enemy getting a lucky shot.” You squeeze his hand. “You got me out, got everyone out. Under fire. That’s leadership, Leo. Protecting your team even when things go sideways. You brought me home.”

He looks down at your joined hands, his thumb tracing a slow circle over your knuckles. “Had I not been there to cover you, what would have happened? What if that hit had been just a few inches higher? What if Donnie hadn’t been able to stabilize you?” He looks back at you, his eyes pools of fear. “We face death all the time. I’ve seen my brothers hurt. I’ve been hurt countless times. But you …”

He takes a shaky breath as you remain silent, letting him continue.

“It’s different. Because the thought of losing you—it’s not just losing a teammate. It’s … more.” The fragile admission hangs in the air. He hasn’t said the words, not explicitly, but the meaning resonates between you, clear as a bell.

Tears prickle at the corners of your eyes, blurring his image slightly. It’s partly the pain, partly the medication Donnie likely gave you. But mostly it’s the raw vulnerability in his voice, the confession wrapped in fear. “It’s more for me too,” you whisper, the words catching in your throat. “The thought of not coming back here—to you, your brothers—it scares me, too.”

His gaze drops to your injury again, but you tug gently on his hand, drawing his attention fully back to your face. “This wasn’t your fault. It was mine, if anyone’s. My choice. My move. Remember?” You try another small smile, this one a little less forced. “And apparently, I have a hard head. And maybe some cracked ribs to show for it.”

He brings his other hand up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead, his fingers lingering for a moment against your temple. “You scared me,” he says softly, the simple statement carrying the weight of everything unsaid. “More than I’ve ever been scared before.”

“I know,” you reply, leaning into his touch. “And I’m so sorry, Leo … So sorry I scared you.”

His grip tightens reflexively on your hand at your apology. “Don’t,” he says, his voice thick with an emotion you can’t quite place—frustration, pain, maybe both. “Don’t apologize for getting hurt. That’s not … that’s not what I meant.”

“But I am sorry you’re hurting because of it,” you clarify, holding his gaze, trying to anchor him. “I hate seeing you like this. Carrying the weight of the world, plus this.”

He shakes his head again. “I should have expected their pincer movement. I let the flank get exposed while I focused on the brute. If I had just positioned us differently, if I’d reacted a second sooner—”

“Leo, stop,” you say, cutting off his spiral. “You could ‘what if’ this until the sewers freeze over. What if I had hesitated before pushing you? What if that Foot soldier had tripped over his own stupid feet?” You sigh. “We analyze, we plan. But sometimes, unpredictability wins a round. So we adapt, we fight, we survive. And sometimes, we get hit. It just happened to be me this time.”

You watch him closely, seeing the subtle shift in his posture as your words land. He doesn’t immediately refute you this time. Instead, his gaze drifts away from yours, settling somewhere near the edge of the cot. The rigid lines of his shoulders seem to soften, just a fraction. The tension hasn’t vanished, but it’s as if someone has allowed a tightly wound spring a bit of slack.

“It shouldn’t have been you,” he finally murmurs, his voice quieter now, less defensive, more weary. He looks back at your joined hands, his thumb resuming its slow, comforting circles over your knuckles. “That’s all. It just … shouldn’t have been you.”

Again, the implication hangs heavy. Not just anyone getting hurt, but you. It makes a warmth spread through your chest.

“Maybe not,” you concede gently. “But it was. And I’m here now. Sore, probably going to complain a lot about sponge baths, but here.” You squeeze his hand again, trying to inject some lightness. “And you’re here. Not pacing yourself into a trench in the floor, which is good.”

A flicker of a smile, genuine this time, touches his lips. It’s fleeting, but it’s there. “Donnie threatened sedation if I didn’t sit down. Yours or mine, he didn’t specify.”

You chuckle, though it sends a jolt of pain through your ribs, making you hiss softly. Leo’s brief smile vanishes, replaced instantly by concern.

“Easy,” he cautions, his hand tightening on yours. “Don’t make yourself laugh.”

“Noted,” you breathe out, waiting for the throb to subside. “How long … how long was I out?”

“About eighteen hours,” he answers, his expression serious again. “Felt like eighteen years.” He shifts, leaning closer. “Donnie says the cracked ribs will take time to heal. A few weeks of taking it extremely easy. No training, no patrols, definitely no arguing with freight trains.” His gaze holds yours. “He means it. We all mean it.”

You nod slowly. The thought of being sidelined is frustrating, but the alternative … You glance down at the bandages covering your torso. You understand. “Okay. Easy it is. Couch duty?”

“Supreme couch duty,” he confirms. “Mikey’s already planning a movie marathon and stockpiling snacks. Raph’s, well. Raph’s mostly been punching the training dummy extra hard, but he keeps asking Donnie for updates every five minutes.”

It’s comforting to hear, a reminder of the strange, fierce family you’ve found down here. They care.

Leo cares.

You watch as the tight knot between his brow finally smooths out, and you meet his gaze again. The fear hasn’t vanished entirely; you suspect it will linger for a while, a ghost haunting the edges of his thoughts. But the tide of self-blame seems to have receded somewhat. You find him looking at you—really looking at you. His eyes tracing the lines of your face as if memorizing them.

“So,” you begin, “what’s first on Mikey’s marathon list? Please tell me it’s not one of those convoluted franchise superhero movies again.”

Another small smile flickers across Leo’s face. “Knowing Mikey? Probably. Unless Raph hid the remote again. But maybe we can find something else. Something … quieter?”

It seems he’s not planning on leaving your side while you recover. The thought sends another wave of warmth through you. “Quieter sounds good,” you agree, your eyelids feeling heavy again. The adrenaline, the pain, the emotional weight of the conversation—it’s all caught up to you.

Leo notices immediately. “You need to rest,” he says, his tone shifting from worried leader to caretaker. He carefully disentangles his fingers from yours, though his hand lingers protectively on your arm for a moment longer. “Donnie said sleep is crucial right now.”

You want to protest, to keep him close, to hold on to the connection solidified in the last hour. But the exhaustion is a physical weight, pulling you down. You manage a small nod.

He hesitates, then reaches out again, his knuckles brushing softly against your cheek. It’s a feather-light touch, tentative yet full of unspoken tenderness. “I’ll be right here,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate in the quiet. “If you need anything. Anything at all.”

You lean into the brief contact, soaking up the reassurance. “Okay,” you whisper, your eyes drifting closed despite your efforts. The pain in your side is still excruciating. But somehow, knowing he’s there, watching over you, makes it feel a little less consuming.

You hear the faint rustle of his gear as he settles back into his vigil beside the cot. The last thing you remember before sleep claims you again is the feeling of his gaze resting on you, watchful and infinitely gentle.

As you fall asleep, Leo watches the tension finally ease from your face, replaced by the slackness of deep exhaustion. He lets out a breath, a long slow release that loosens the knot still coiled tight in his own chest. The rigid posture he’d held for hours eased, muscles protesting the release. Seeing you finally succumb to sleep, the lines of pain around your eyes softening slightly, was like a physical weight lifting from his carapace.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’

He turns your words over in his mind. Part of him—the ingrained leader, the strategist—still rebelled. A dozen tactical errors, a dozen moments where another choice might have avoided this, readily come to mind for him. He should have seen the flank attack. He should have positioned you differently. The ‘should haves’ were a familiar, suffocating chorus in his head.

‘You brought me home.’

He looks down at his hand, the one you had held. He could still feel the faint impression of your fingers interlaced with his. That small act of connection, of grounding him when he was spiraling, had cut through the noise of his own failure narrative.

He flexes his fingers, remembering the fragile strength in your grip, the way you pulled him back from the edge of self-recrimination. He had been drowning for so long in the potential horror of what could have happened, lost in the grim playback loop of the mission gone wrong.

The lingering antiseptic smell is a reminder of the med bay, Donnie working frantically, and the coppery scent of your blood staining the sheets. He shivers involuntarily, pulling his arms tighter around himself. The image of your pale, still form on the rooftop has burned itself into his mind. The terror that gripped him in that moment was unlike anything he’d ever experienced.

Not even facing Shredder had evoked such a visceral, paralyzing fear.

Losing a brother would be devastating. But the thought of losing you—it carved a hollow, aching void inside him that felt terrifyingly vast. Because it wouldn’t be just losing a skilled fighter. A trusted ally. It’d be the silencing of your easy laughter in the lair, the absence of your sharp insights during planning, the loss of the quiet understanding that often passed between the two of you without words.

It’d be the extinguishing of a light that has, almost without him realizing it, become essential to his world.

He watches the rise and fall of your chest beneath the blanket. Donnie had assured him the worst was over. That recovery, while slow, was expected. He resists the urge to reach out again, to brush the hair from your face or simply rest his hand near yours. You need undisturbed rest.

Instead, he lets his gaze linger on your face, taking in the details he rarely allows himself to study so openly—the curve of your cheek, the way your lashes rest against your skin, the faint scar above your eyebrow from a training mishap weeks ago. Each detail feels precious, sharpened by the horrifying proximity of almost losing it all.

The guilt hasn’t vanished; he knows it won’t for a long time. It settles deeper now, a dull ache beneath the sharp relief. But your words, your unwavering insistence that it wasn’t his fault, chipped away at the worst of it.

‘It’s more for me, too.’

He hasn’t dared to hope, hasn’t even fully articulated to himself the nature of the feelings simmering beneath the surface of your camaraderie. Duty, friendship, respect … those are clear. Definable. But the terror that seizes him, the absolute, gut-wrenching certainty that losing you will break something fundamental within him—that goes beyond.

And hearing you echo that sentiment cracks open something vulnerable inside him.

A faint shuffling sound makes him turn. Donnie stands near the entrance to the makeshift med bay, holding a scanner. He approaches quietly, giving Leo a brief, assessing look before turning his attention to the small monitor beside your cot, checking readings.

“Vitals are holding steady,” Donnie murmurs, his voice low. “The pain medication seems effective for now. Sleep is the best thing for her.” He glances back at Leo, his expression softening with fraternal concern. “And for you.”

Leo just nods, his gaze returning to your sleeping face. He isn’t going anywhere.

Donnie hesitates, then places a comforting hand on his brother’s shoulder. “She’s strong. And you did good bringing her back.” He squeezes Leo’s shoulder once, then retreats as silently as he came.

He looks at the bandages covering your side. The injury is still severe, the recovery will be long. There will be weeks of worry. Weeks of keeping you safe, ensuring you heal. Weeks of sitting beside you, watching over you.

This time, fear won’t paralyze him. Guilt will not consume him. He will learn from this. He will be better. Not just as a leader, but for you. Because the thought of a future without you in it, without your sharp wit, your warmth, your unwavering presence beside him …

It’s unthinkable.

He carefully shifts his weight, trying to find a position that is more sustainable for the long hours ahead. He won’t sleep, not yet. For now, he will watch. He will guard you in your sleep. His gaze stays fixed on you, a silent promise hanging in the air.

I’m here. I’m not leaving.

[aleksiej]

does rottmnt donnie dislike touch?

i have rewatched all of rottmnt and am ending this debacle once and for all (at least for me lol)

based on the two seasons, the movie and the comics (tho the comics don't really bring anything to this conversation) i think i have the answer to one of the more controversial topics in this fandom

(no, it's not the yuichi vs usagi debate, usagi obviously wins that no sweat)

so, does donnie dislike touch?

in the series, he is shown being fairly touchy with his siblings throughout the series, with some exceptions i will try to list now, tho not with proper episode names as i am not looking them up, sorry not sorry:

pilot episode, captured by draxum in a cacoon with mikey he's visibly uncomfortable and tries to get away

mikey's solo mission, he doesn't look at any of the and in response to a hug he pats mikey's head with a metal arm from his battle shell.

glued together, he's showing visible discomfort at being forced into close (touching) proximity of his brothers, tho that discomfort is somewhat elevated when they do a second go-round after the sticky foam ball got crushed

that time splinter caught everyone in a trap hanging in the lair (i think it's the forest survival episode?), he's, again, uncomfortable and the first to find a solution to their entrapment, be it on his phone

there's probably more, but that's what i remember from the series and spread out on about 60 episodes it's noticeable, but not a deciding factor, especially since donnie's also seen being fine with touch. now, the movie offers us even more of a look into donnie's relationship with touch. this list will include every instance presented i can think of, in no particular order.

during leo and raph's fight after they lost the key, donnie jumps on raph's back in an attempt to stop him from advancing in the fight, as mikey tries to shield leo. it's a very quick decision and doesn't seem to particularly trouble donnie.

after the kraang come through the portal and the turtles escape-pod out, mikey's panicking and grabbing cj, also causing him distress. donnie grabs mikey under his arms like a plushie and is shown to carry him until leo gets back with a panic attack and news of raph, upon which leo starts at cj with a fight in mind and donnie and mikey keep him away. again, no distress is coming off of donnie, no more than the regular situation call for (although he gets more logic-minded and quiet as the movie goes on with only small donnie moments breaking it up, which seems to be how he reacts to stress, but that'll be in another fever post)

he's touching mikey sometimes during the subway battle, but it's most likely he either didn't notice or didn't care, considering everything else happening in that fight (ps the kraang train is my favorite villainous entity in the franchise, give me more of the kraang train and i will give you my soul)

he's shown very visibly having sensory issues (very relatable) throughout the whole movie because of the kraang. not necessarily to do with touch, oh except for the part when he had to get EATEN BY THE TECHNODROME THROUGH HIS BARELY TOUCHED AT ALL SOFT SHELL which is shown to be a sensory nightmare and awful to touch and yes, i had night terrors if that, thank you very much.

at the very end, they all hug with no visible problems except for the fact that they are on staten island. that is to say, there's one important scene still, it happens before the end, but i wanted to have space to gush about it so here we go.

the famous scene of raph grabbing donnie and mikey flying through the air, yelling "don't worry donnie, it's not a hug, it's a rescue". probably the most important thing said in accordance to donnie's relationship with touch.

in my personal opinion, donnie doesn't mask (i mean look at his behavior) or if he does, he does it, rarely in public and even rarer with just his brothers. so every one of the hamato clan knows at least the most important of donnie's boundaries, especially related to the autism, as it's handled well within their family structure (both donnie's and mikey's autism is) . so, if raph calls out to him to warn about the hug he's giving donnie and treats it like a potential bad thing, there are really only two conclusions we can get to.

one, donnie doesn't like/hates physical contact. disputed by just about everything else in the show, except for the listed above exceptions.

two, donnie being open to touch or not is conditional. and considering the mentioned exceptions and raph's rescue from the movie, there's one similarity we can notice between them.

the touch affecting donnie is happening without his consent and without a form of escape.

(except for when donnie's hugged by mikey in his solo mission episode, but considering he's already kind of detached, i'm assuming he's just not up to it and so he uses his robotic extra arms to give comfort instead of ignoring his little brother which aww)

that's the uncomfortable part, the unpredictability and lack of a way to detach himself. aka, donnie's just like me for real. lmao.

donnie probably doesn't mind touch and welcomes it, but needs to be in control of the process and be able to leave if he gets overwhelmed. and his family knows that, hence raph's words in the movie that led so many people astray...

this might just be another evidence of how well donnie is written as an autistic character, both with his low empathy not being demonized and not preventing him from creating bonds (tho sometimes making it difficult) and the fact that the most common opinion of autistic people (that they hate touch, which is something a psychiatrist brought up as evidence of me not being autistic) doesn't apply to everyone.

as a summary, rottmnt donnie is probably the best version of donnie right now and he doesn't hate touching, he just has to touch on his own terms. extremely valid, extremely relatable.

[itsyagurlchip]

To @shadymatmat: "I can write that he knows about human dating customs, but tries to pretend to reader that he doesn't. that's way cuter in my opinion."

☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Begging for Kisses☀︎⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

ᯓᡣ𐭩warnings: established relationship(!) cussing maybe idk I might not warn for this n e more (!) woah kissing, chip's experimenting now-(!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩I'm so sorry for not wanting to write your other ask, but I'm so glad that you'll take this one in turn!! (Making Donnie actually clueless is different from making him emotionally unintelligent so it felt kinda odd to write-) Thank you for the request Mat <33

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Donnie's bad at lying, you know.

A knock sounds out from my window. I groan and roll to my side, whoever's knocking on my window can promptly backflip themselves into a restaurant dumpster. My large comforter was doing its job: being warm, and safe. What time was it for someone to even be-

At my window!? I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion before opening my crusty eyes.

I adjust myself onto my elbow and squinted to see...Donnie? He knocks again, waving when he catches my eye. His face is darker in blush, but I'm not worried about that.

I stand up stretching, mumbling something about advanced robots and simple doors, before walking over my clothes to let Donnie in. I guide him to a bean bag, while I stand up at some attempt to stay awake enough for this.

"Yes Dee?" My eyes weren't really focusing on anything, but I knew i really wanted to go back to sleep- "I know you're like, nocturnal and shi, but what could possibly hold my attention at 3 in the morning." I rubbed at my eyes to get the crust away.

"I require assistance an experiment! Uhm, regarding human touch." He fiddles with his fingers for a bit, looking away.

"Right, the human that needs six to eight hours of sleep is the one to help you out." I sarcastically said, before looking at his face. I sighed, "Yea... sure. What are we doing?"

"Well, you see, as a man and a turtle of science, I have been pondering on a hypothesis about how physical touch... affects uh- humans!" I blink before gesturing him to carry on. "And since I'm mutant, only half-human, I figured that... maybe I needed a full human for this." He mumbled.

"There's many different kinds of stimuli, " I started. "Like holding hands, uhm, patting heads-"

"Can- can we just try a hug?" Donnie asked. "For- for science, of course."

I was genuinely confused but went with it. I walked over as he stood up, and hugged him gently rubbing his shoulders a bit. I'm sure Donnie understood what hugs are, and what they're for. If he didn't, then Mikey must've been fake hugging them all of those years. I hum softly in content, before letting go.

"Just! Just stay here for a moment. This is significant research I'm conducting, and any interruption of it would not be appreciated, he said, surely not having a secret motif." He said, pulling me back.

"Oh- okay." I embraced him again, this time rapping my arms around his mid section. I kept in mind to not put too much pressure on his shell, despite it already being shielded. My head rested against his shoulders as my eyes lulled off a bit. I let out a yawn as my brain was catching up with reality.

I noticed that there was embarrassment in his tone, and I began to hear a subtle purring-

I look at his tail to catch it wiggling a bit, only to see it stop as if he's forcing it to. And then it finally clicked in my sleepy brain.

"Mhm... yea, so what's your hypothesis again super genius? I'm completely being curious, by the way." I huff out a gentle chuckle.

"Well-well, if a human is hugged for a long time, then they'll..uhm..." Donnie mumbled something incoherent. "This is completely for science and not out of a personal inquiry...yea."

"Mhm, righhhht" As I let go and turned around, I finally let my smile grow big. I lead him to my bed, "You need data, right? I got work at 7, so that's a little less than four hours of it." I not so subtly looked at his tail again, to see it moving rapidly.

Donnie fiddled with his fingers, tapping them and then clenching them. I look at my sheets. He may not agree because of the texture of my blankets. I look back at him.

"You good with this? We can find a different way to collect your data, Mr. Science." I smirked playfully.

"No!" he blurted, I raised my eyebrow. "I mean- I'm good, cool cool cool, I'm fine! I think we should just do this a little longer." He began writhing his fingers together, with his face darkening in a blush again.

"It's just a cuddle" I laughed a bit, "It's like what we're doing but laying down. It's a win win, you get your data, and I get my sleep."

"Hmmm....." He hummed, clearly not opposing the idea. If he was gonna pretend, then I could too.

"You know, a good scientist changes the independent variable? Maybe the new dependent variable can help you... come to a scientific breakthrough?" I lay down on my side, and hold my arms out for him.

Poor guy, he looked like he's having a panic. Like the emotions in his head are running around his brain as an alarm sounds out.

"I suppose..." He says slowly, but I've known him long enough to know it's a yes. He was clinging onto me for pizza supreme's sake! And he says he's touch adverse? Sure. "But! but. Science only. No feelings." He said, gently pulling off his battle shell.

"You keep saying 'for science', you know." My smile grew wider as I made reaching hands. "Just lay down silly. C'mon Mr. Science, get your cuddle data."

He rolled his eyes and laid down. At first, he awkwardly held himself with his knees. But soon, he accepted my sleepy hugs and melted. His shoulders relaxed, and his eyes closed. A small, almost inaudible sigh slipped from his lips as I slip my arms around his shoulders.

"You know what would progress your experiment?" I asked softly.

"Hm?" He hummed, his eyes still closed.

I kiss his forehead gently, adding another long one for assurance. His eyes open as my hands slowly reach, just stopping at his face. Donnie's breath picked up and he bobbed his head, as if he were dumbfounded.

I held his cheeks, bringing his face to mine, and pressed our lips together. It was light, and feathery. Comforting. I could feel Donnie's heart pumping rapidly, but mines was beating strongly, painfully. I leaned back, and sighed deeply, looking into his eyes.

"Any other 'experiments' I should know about, Mr. Othello?" I quietly asked. He blinked as if coming from the back of his minds.

"I'll- I'll have to check in, uhm, with- the data results." Donnie gulped with a shy smile. "O-Or when the test subject begins to show a lack of..." He trailed off, going into mumbles again. I fully chuckled this time, still not calling him out.

"That's fine, I can be your assistant for a while." I said sleepily, before my sight gently faded, and my mind dreamt of a pink atmosphere.

imnotcringeimnotcringeimnotcringeimnotcringeimnotcringeimnotcringe posting this early bc I'm actually proud of this one-

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა tags: @kittykittyanon @bonefanatic @oleander-nin @towomatos @ziipzeepzop-eez

૮₍˶• .•⑅₎ა@wheezdostuff @spongejuice @cyb3r-st4r @matteo-hamato

@clown-froggi

if you would like to be added, check my blog. if you would like to be added, check my blog. SEE? I SAID IT TWICE!!

[felassan]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard - unofficial BioWare forums post - 'Gameplay Hot Tips from Dev'

Post under cut for length.

Luke Barrett: "So I've been watching a lot of streams and YT channels and many people are playing on the highest difficulty, not reading tutorials, and then just trying to buttonmash/dodge their way through the combat since if you're good at dodge/block you can muscle your way, painfully, through the beginning hours of the game. Anyway, here are a bunch of random tips from me. Also worth noting almost all of this except things I denote with an * are tutorialized in the game when you encounter them. I'll spoiler wrap it all just in case anyway wants to try to learn this stuff naturally (or not be overwhelmed)"

"BASICS - Light attack base damage is the highest dps (but you can itemize the others to be higher) however it deals reduced damage to Armor (yellow bar) and Barrier (blue bar) - Heavy attacks deal bonus damage to Armor (yellow bar) - Ranged attacks deal bonus to Barrier (blue bar). Super important note: when the text says "RANGED ATTACK" it's specifically the core attack type, not anything that attacks from range. So this is Rogue bow, Warrior shield toss, Mage beam. - Charged attacks deal bonus damage and stagger as well as break Block and certain channeled abilities - [MAGE SPECIFIC] The orb light attacks build charges (Arcane Marks) on enemies, on the 3rd one it converts into an Arcane Bomb which can be popped for bonus damage with the dagger heavy attack"

"ADVANCED - *during Ability, Ultimate, and Potion usage you have iFrames (immune to damage) for the entire duration getting new copies of items automatically upgrades them, unlocking the next item mod (stat property) - items can only rank up as high as your Caretaker shop level - new items you find are automatically ranked up to the Caretaker shop level, this includes things you buy - potion effects are controlled by your equipped belt and can add a wide variety of things later (something something bees ) - *Each ability has 2 ability tags associated with it, this denotes which upgrades and items will modify them. No 2 abilities have the same 2 tags but each tag type has 4 or 5 abilities for it - Staggering enemies allows you to immediately branch into a Takedown which will instakill normal enemies at <30% (some items modify this) - *Staggered enemies are stunned, you have until the bar goes down to use your Takedown which means you can just smash them for free and then use Takedown at the end (the duration of this is modified by difficulty) - *The debuff from Primers are VERY strong and scale well, as above don't feel like you need to detonate immediately if they have lots of health still, it's more optimal to leave it on for awhile and then detonate at the end"

"MATHY - Every ability you unlock grants additional ability damage and stagger (which also applies to ultimates) Every trait you unlock grants additional weapon damage and stagger - *All stat damage is sum'd together, the things that are multiplicative after that are: Crit, Weakpoint, Sunder (primer), Enhanced Damage (buff). This means the buff/debuff/crit are ALWAYS going to be a benefit whereas eventually somethingg like +20% fire damage will actually increase your total damage by less. (I can go further into this if anyone loves damage calc theory) - [ROGUE] *Short bows fire slightly faster and regenerate more but cant be charged as much (and have slightly lower weakpoint base damage) - [WARRIOR] *Round shields deal more damage and can charge up higher, Kite shields deal much more stagger (and usually have defensive properties) I'll add more as I see people struggle with them."

[source]

Extra comments and Q&As:

"Once you get further enemies all get unblockable attacks, and theyll be more likely to use them when you're turtling like that. The 'intro' enemies are stripped down to make it simpler." [source]

User: "Parrying: I'm playing on nightmare and one thing that is difficult to get used to is the parry window. When the UI goes from white to yellow, I'll press the parry button, but it will still be too soon. Is that by design? Am I supposed to hold the parry button?" Luke Barrett: "Depends on the class as they're all slightly different for this but yes the yellow just flashes a specific time before the attack comes down so you'll have to offset a bit on Nightmare. Iirc, you can disable those warning telegraphs in the options somewhere if you want, as its a UI setting not a difficulty setting." [source]

"stats and appearance are disconnected. There is a button in the character sheet that will also hide any overrides you have so you can flip back and forth between default and your selection. (It's a little box beside the larger item equip box)" [source]

User: "For the specialization trees, do you have to unlock the abilities next to them in order to activate the specialization once you reach the level requirement?" Luke Barrett: "Yes, they still require you to connect into them with adjacent skill purchases if that's what you mean. Keep in mind full respec is free so typically what I would recommend is just make a build up until you hit 20 and then respec and redo it for the specialization." [source]

User: "I have a question about a rune that makes your weapons deal cold damage. Is it only true for warrior and rogue weapons? Because it doesn't seem to work with staff and orb/dagger. Also, and i understand that you likely won't be able to answer that, but are there any plans to add presets that let you to save abilities/gear? Enemies' resistances being important means that you need to swap abilities and weapons and it's a bit annoying to do it manually every time." Luke Barrett: "It should be working for Mage too it just doesnt override the actual visuals. As for loadouts, tbh it's something we wanted to provide but it kept getting out of scope so I'm hoping there will be time post-launch for it but no announced plans as of yet, unfortunately." [source] User: "Yeah, i noticed that it applied Chilled status on enemies, but because visuals are the same, i got confused. Another question that i probably should've asked in my original comment is about Elemental Catalyst passive. It gives you bonus damage based on the damage type of your Staff and Orb weapons. Let's say i used rune that makes my weapons deal cold damage. Does it mean that my abilities that deal cold damage will also gain bonus?" Luke Barrett: "Nope, it'll still work. The way the rune actually works on the backend is we intercept the damagetype and just switch it in the calculation so anything relying on the damagetype for checks would still pass. Basically for all purposes except the enemies resistances, the damage is the original type. (Those runes were designed entirely for getting around resists fwiw)" [source]

User: "what's the gameplay design reason behind global cooldowns? Is it to emphasize the player needing to use light and heavy attacks, or to dissuade constant detonator spams?" Luke Barrett: "As a tl;dr it would have required a resource for each follower as well. When I do my stream ask me again and I'll go into greater detail. There are a lot of things I've seen suggested that are better ideas in isolation but a lot of times something is the way it is to support some other goal." [source]

User: "Are there any traits or perks that make charging either ranged or basic attacks go a bit faster? I'm doing a warrior and would love charging up the shield to go a bit faster." Luke Barrett: "For Mage yes (staff heavy specifically) for the other ones no, it's mostly because of interrupt spamming enemies. I would recommend using Time Slow, Taunt, or Invulnerable from companions to make it very easy to get off." [source]

User: "What's the difference between an agile attack and a light attack?" Luke Barrett: "Light attack is simply pressing that button (square on PS or X on Xbox controller). Agile attacks are ones coming from sprint, jump, or roll (regardless of which input you use to attack). So an attack can be both a Light attack and an Agile attack. " [source]

"And yes, all bolded terms should appear in the additional details section. There is also a section in the glossary that lists them all, along with what each of the enemy Enhancements do." [source]

User: "Noticed something possibly weird. I forgot to respec the skills on Neve and took an ability that wasn't upgraded, while removing the upgraded one (Glacial Pace) from the bar. And suddenly she still fires her unslotted ability (Glacial Pace) during combat. It has the upgrade for auto-fire randomly without cooldown. It happens regularly now. Is that a glitch or expected behavior?" Luke Barrett: "This is intentional, yes. Soon as you buy the autofire passive (each companion has one of them) they'll fire it regardless of what they have mapped." [source]

User: "Luke, the Warrior has a trait at the lower left section of the skill tree that allows you to follow-up a fully-powered Charged Attack with a Powerful Finisher attack. However, I can't seem to get the timing down on WHEN I'm supposed to hit X or Y (I'm on xbox) after the Charged Attack. Is it as soon as the final Charged attack hit lands, or soon after? I'm playing 2H warrior btw" Luke Barrett: "I believe I saw a bug fixed for the next patch where it was picking a normal light branch instead of the charged. Try it with the heavy attack but the timing is pretty tight for all those perfect timing ones." [source]

User: "Luke, I had two questions for you: 1) A couple weeks back, I believe before launch, I had asked about what went into the decision regarding global cooldowns. You mentioned that you had another system in mind, but couldn't answer at the time due to the game not having launched. Since we're nearly a year removed now, do you feel open to discussing what you had in mind with cooldowns? 2) A lot of people who like having the ability to use a large number of active abilities weren't too thrilled about Veilguard. At the same time, I've found that most people who fall into this group tend to be mostly concerned about what fewer active abilities means for mages. Since we now have two types of mage-based weapons, could one possible solution be to have the 3 active skills for the Orb & Dagger combo, but the Staff allows you 6+ abilities by sacrificing block or the ranged attack option? Maybe I should be more general here. Is it feasible for one class of weapon to allow for more active abilities than other weapons?" Luke Barrett: "Hey, sorry been on vacation. This will be long but I'll try to be as succinct as possible. To the first one, we actually tried a bunch of different options but ones that felt better for gameplay ended up being even more overhead on the HUD as far as bars and things (which we were already bloated on). I actually did a bunch of gameplay analysis stuff back at the start of Joplin, basically just modding DAI (internally) and assessing feedback. And this will sound obvious when it's spelled out but basically for any ability system it's good to use both a resource and a time based gating system. When you only have cooldowns you typically just spam abilities off cooldown (which is why followers went Global specifically) and when you have resource only you basically just spray your most effective ability over and over. Now, you can design your abilities around these problems, for example if you make all of them situational and only having a "correct" time to use them it will mitigate the issues. But, that assumes your game is complex enough to have that many different scenarios to help the abilities have unique identities. Additionally, and we ran into this early, having a correct way to use things also means there is an incorrect way so a lot of players who didn't quite get it just felt the abilities were flat and useless (I see this constantly about the uniques when people don't understand the synergy intent).As for abilities, yes one could probably mod that in - the hardest part would be the UI for mapping them but still doable with a mod. One big concern about us officially doing it, which we did talk about, is that all those abilities are loaded into memory when you have both sets. So for our minspec systems it would have been too costly on performance. We also had a gameplay guideline that we intentionally never wanted to promote weapon swapping mid combat and that went against it. When I was in charge of that kind of stuff on Joplin waaaay back we had 6 abilities mapped (2 were controlled by your equipped items) and I preferred that but it was a different game and different target markets." [source]

User: "If staff could have 8+ abilities, they could also take my runes. Edit: Also for staff it is very important not to limit mana so much at the beginning of the game. I disliked this decision even more than only having 3 spells because it was often like having no spells and made the game very frustrating at the start." Luke Barrett: "Yes, this was unfortunately a tradeoff for not having to make the Mage abilities do much lower damage and be spammy, especially when we added iFrames to ability use - the goal for abilities is for them all to feel powerful to activate so there was some limiting factors. We actually had the mana start at 0 and build up for awhile to help with that problem but people haaaaated it from an immersion perspective. I agree though, it doesn't feel great at the start from an ability power fantasy perspective, however the entire combat system ramp up hinges on Players learning light, heavy, charged, block attacks. As above, you could theoretically mod in 8 abilities by taking the Rune input over, unhooking block or radial maybe, and making another set of modifier buttons (or make it just KBM only mod)." [source]

[umbrella-show]

Platonic Yan Rottmnt

「 ✦ 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐘𝐚𝐧 𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐌𝐍𝐓 𝐱 𝐌𝐮𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐮𝐫𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐏𝐭.𝟑 ✦ 」

The final part of my short Yan platonic Rottmnt series :) THIS IS IN NO WAY APPROVING OF A ABUSIVE OR TOXIC RELATIONSHIP

TW: Kidnaping, Stalking

Words : 1661

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Here you go, birthday boy, enjoy!” You smiled kindly, placing a cake on the table where a young fish yokai sat with a party hat strapped around his head. He beamed at the cake excitedly, his friends gathering around his table to gawk and drool at the cake, eager to eat. You watched fondly, clasping your hands together behind your back. You watched as another yokai, made of green slime, hopped on top of the table. He shouted loudly from excitement, “Let’s get this party started!” Right at that moment you grabbed a spare menu from another table nearby, opening it in front of your face to shield your face from the sudden splat of Exploding Frankie’s famous party trick. The green goo clung onto the menu before it dripped off and all of the green slime came together to form him again. The kids cheered and you took that as a que you had done your job. 

You loved your job. You loved seeing the smiles on other mutant’s and yokai’s faces when you brought them their meal they had been eagerly waiting for. Your boss, Senior Hueso, was pretty cool. You are forever grateful for him. He took you in when you had nothing and gave you a job as a waiter. The pay was enough for you to buy an apartment in the hidden city. The hidden city was full of wonders. Shortly after you made your escape from the dreaded sewers you had made your way back to the city to find some form of refuge. You had watched, what you learned was a yokai, opening a portal to the mystical city through a graffiti drawing on a wall. You had followed after them and were amazed by the sight of other beings, like you, wandering a city full of mystic and magic.

It’s been 3 months since you escaped the sewers, and you haven’t seen those turtle brothers ever since. You supposed that was a good thing. You didn’t really want to see them ever again after they held you against your will. While living in the sewers wasn’t half as bad as you originally thought, it felt suffocating with all the attention you were given.

“Y/N,” you were snapped out of your thoughts when your boss spoke to you. “Mi amigo manchado, is everything alright.” You gave him a courteous nod, fiddling with the collar of your outfit.  He was always looking out for you. You were one of his most diligent employees, after all. He even told you himself. You did your best to put a smile on everyone’s face. Even the rude customers. 

“I’m alright.” You responded, “just thinking.” You watched your boss look at you with a curious expression as he patted your shoulder. He was always a little concerned when you spaced out to think. You weren't sure why.

“Well then, there are a few more customers you may serve before you clock out.” “I wouldn’t mind working overtime again.” You quickly responded right after he finished speaking. You could use all the extra money. Heuso frowned, shaking his head in disapproval. “Oh no, you, tortuga, need more rest. You have bags under your eyes.” He pointed out, causing you to deflate at his protective tone. However, you weren’t going to argue with him. You didn’t mind getting more sleep anyways. With all of the days you worked overtime, your sleep schedule was basically obliterated.

“Fine,” you muttered in slight disappointment, causing him to give you a proud smile and another pat on the shoulder before walking away and letting you go seat the new customers. You gave him one more glance as he walked. Probably back to his office to work on his miniature wooden ship. You dusted off your apron, making sure you looked presentable for the last customers you were going to serve before walking all the way back to your apartment and collapsing into bed. The more you thought about it, the more excited you were to get more sleep than you usually got.

You glanced at the entrance of the restaurant, about to greet the new customers. Your blood ran cold and you immediately turned around to hide yourself once you saw them. No. There was no way they found you. You dared to take another glance, begging that it wasn’t them. Maybe you mistook someone else for them. You were proven wrong when you took another glance.

The Hamato brothers. They found you. How did they find you? You left no sign that you were here? How did they know about the Hidden city? You thought this was a safe place. The only place they would never find you. You needed to leave. Now.

You began to walk away from them with your back turned to them. You tried to look as discreet as possible. You needed to get to Hueso’s office. Hopefully if you asked him if you could just leave a little earlier, he wouldn’t ask questions and let you. For now, you needed a distraction.

“Excuse me,” you quietly spoke to an unoccupied owl Yokai waiter. “Could you serve them?” You carefully pointed towards the turtle brothers who were already seated at a table. Luckily, by your nervous and uncomfortable expression, the owl nodded and didn’t say a thing as he walked over to serve them. You silently thanked him, standing there for a while. You didn’t realize how shaky your breathing was until now. Your palms felt sweaty and your hands and knees were shaking a bit. You closed your eyes and tried your best to take deep breaths and calm down. You had to keep calm. You needed to blend in. 

You felt a strong urge to check if the turtles were distracted so you could hurry to Hueso’s office. You slowly turned your head as little as you could so your eyes could see them. Leonardo seemed to be talking to the waiter, seemingly ordering for himself and his brothers. Donnie was distracted by his phone and Raph was idly sitting, listening to the waiter list out the food they ordered. Mikey looked especially happy, kicking his feet under the table. You could tell he was extra giddy, seeming excited to get pizza. 

You didn’t know why you continued to watch, most likely looking for reassurance that they were occupied and therefore wouldn’t see you sneak to Hueso’s office. However, just as you were about to turn away, Mikey’s eyes started wandering throughout the restaurant, and soon landed on you. You two engaged in a staring contest, you visibly paling as his face lit up. You tore your gaze away, turning around like it never happened and bolting to your boss’s office. Just before you turned the corner to where Hueso was, you heard a loud whisper from Mikey, alerting his brothers of your presence, you assumed.

You left through a different entrance of the restaurant, one you hoped the turtles didn’t know existed. You bolted to your apartment complex, weaving through the crowd of Yokai in your way. Hueso had graciously let you leave early. You mentally thank him for not asking questions, though he did look suspicious. You wondered if you should tell him some other time. If you did, that might cause the brothers to definitely know you were there. Though, you were sure it didn’t make a difference, considering Mikey already saw you. They all knew you worked here by now. Maybe you could quit and find a different job. Somewhere deeper in the Hidden City. The thought of quitting your job and leaving Hueso out of the blue made you sad. He was the one who took you in when you were desperate and in need of shelter. 

As you continued on to your apartment complex, there were less Yokai in your path and soon enough, you were alone walking through an alley between two other buildings. This was a shortcut you normally took, so you weren’t really on guard or alert. That was a mistake.

The floor suddenly felt as if it disappeared and you felt like you were falling. Your breath hitched, your eyes opening as your body braced itself for some kind of painful impact. Instead, you landed on your backside on what you thought was the floor. You snapped your eyes open and saw you were encased in some purple glowing sphere. You pressed your hands against the walls of your prison. 

“Hey, sib! I didn’t know you got a job at Hueso’s.”

Your blood ran cold at the sound of that voice from behind you, almost not wanting to turn around. However, you did, and stared with wide eyes wide in shock at the sight of the turtle in blue, followed by the rest of them as they stood around you. You pressed yourself against the wall of the round cage, shrinking down like prey to a predator. You watched Leo place his foot on the purple device trapping you.

“It’s a shame, I really thought you’d be able to get us free pizza, or at least a discount.”

You watched him playfully pout, faking looking hurt as he put his hands to his chest. Mikey suddenly hugged the sphere, pressing his face against it with no warning, making you harshly flinch and shrink away from them even more.

“Welcome home, Y/N! We’re so glad to have you back!!!”

You gawked at him, dumbfounded before finally registering his words. Home? You glanced behind him, seeing the familiar walls of Donnie’s lab with computers and machinery all around. You’re mind blanked, your ears catching onto bits and parts of Donnie speaking. Talking about new reinforcements being made to the lair to specifically make sure you don’t escape again. You stared aimlessly at the wall as the feeling of horror and devastation sunk in. 

You were right back where you started. Except this time, there really was no escape.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Random Headcanons (18+)

Mirage!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Last Random Headcanons (18+) for the Mirage boys! Feels like a milestone at this point, to be honest😂❤️

All characters are aged up.

Warnings: Uhm, sex, lol.

Even if Mikey’s surroundings were bleak and dark, leaving little to no light or happiness in his and his family’s life, he was surprisingly happy and positive. Even you, who lived a somewhat normal life (except for the fact that you were dating a mutant ninja turtle), at times had a hard time being as positive as him. And Mikey really brought that happiness and positivity into your relationship, and especially into your sex life.

Sex with Mikey was lighthearted and an absolute joy. It was exactly what you needed after a long hard day, where the whole world just seemed to turn against you at every corner. There had been times where Mikey took you from behind, with his arms wrapped around you, giving you slow and hard backshots, whispering the sweetest yet nastiest things into your ear, making you smile and blush at it all, at times making you wonder what you would do, had you never met Mikey.

Mikey didn’t really have any major dislikes when it came to sex. As long as you were okay with it, so was he. But if you wanted him to bend over backwards, as far as his shield allowed him to, with you on top bouncing on his member, he would do it. It probably would make you happy, and it would probably be a good story for the two of you to retell later down the line.

But though Mikey liked to turn sex into this fun orcation, with sweet, funny and dirty comments strewn about, he could very quickly turn a very passionate lover, being very focused on you, your beauty and your pleasure. You have once before found you and Mikey starting you lighthearted, with you riding him and making small talk, only to suddenly get flipped over when things started to get more intense, with Mikey pounding into you, all small talk being replaced with loud moans and encouragements to keep going.

It was very rare that Mikey didn’t stay for aftercare, and if he didn’t, it wasn’t his own choice. Mikey truly loved aftercare. It was soft and nice, and usually a perfect way to finish whatever kind of session the two of you have had that day. He was a real cuddler, clinging to you, enjoying the warmth of your skin against his, and if it was up to him, he would never have to leave you. But sadly, the life of a mutant turtle wasn’t always predictable, and as much as you tried to keep the dark out of your bedroom, Mikey sometimes had to leave you early, in order to fight the dangers of the night.

[tizeline]

I wonder how the movie is gonna go over since Leo lost the key

Hhhh the fricking movie. Again, I'm still very much figuring things out and this might change, but here are some of my thoughts.

I've already mentioned how I kinda want to focus on Mikey's and Donnie's relationship during the events of the movie, as opposed to in canon where the focus is on Leo's and Raph's. By the time of the invasion, the Hamatos and the Draxums overall get along well enough to hang out and work together, it's mostly Donnie and Mikey who don't really get along. Because of that, in the AU the four turtles team up and go after Warren and Hypno when they steal the Key like in the movie. But instead of Leo wanting to show off being the reason why they lose the Key, it's because Mikey and Donnie can't stop bickering for two seconds and that getting in the way of the mission.

After that I'm not really sure how the rest of the invasion plays out. I want, at the very least, for Mikey to have some type of arc where he starts out hostile towards Casey Jr purely because he's a human, and then throughout the whole ordeal learns to trust him.

....Mmh, maybe Donnie will get taken by the Krang while protecting Mikey... 🤔😈 Donnie, who's been treating Mikey with indifference at best and straight up contempt at worst, shielding Mikey with his own body to protect him from the Krang and being taken prisoner as a result, would probably not be something Mikey expected him to do.... Listen, I know this AU is mostly silly-goofy, but the angst potential here hell yeah 😈😈😈 Mikey would feel so guilty about it too, it's all fun and games to argue with Donnie when they're not in immidiate danger, but Mikey would never wish serious harm on Donnie. That's, despite everything, his brother!

In general, Mikey'd be struggling a lot more during the invasion considering how much he relies on his mystic powers in the AU and the fact that the krang can block their access to their mystic powers. He's decent at non-mystic combat, but this is THE KRANG we're talking about, decent isn't gonna be enough.

[asarigg]

Character Design: Part 1

KIMONO

What stands out the most about his design as soon as you see it is his striking red kimono. Most of you are probably familiar with this aspect of Japanese culture, which is also common all around the world, and that is the bright floral patterns are not commonly seen on men’s kimono, but women’s. Young women especially tend to wear more colourful kimonos with longer sleeves, called furisode, and older, mature women wear calmer colours and more subdued prints. You can appreciate this particular distinction when looking at maiko and geiko/geisha.

Kimono sleeves are sewn from top to bottom, leaving room only for the hand to come out, but Koujaku’s are not. Some people believe he could have cut his sleeves to make it easier to fight, but this doesn’t make sense to me, if anything it’s more annoying. Instead of having one fold of clothing flying around, there are two now. If he wanted to pull his sleeves aside to fight, he could use a tasuki to tie them back as this og post points out. The sleeves are also too short even for a men’s kimono. Compare these kimonos and then what Ryuuhou’s kimono looks like compared to his.

This same post theorizes that he probably cut the sleeves to make the kimono look more like a man’s kimono, but due to his inexperience he cut too much or didn’t dare to sew it back on, a theory I agree with. Even though it’s pointed out he likes traditional stuff, and that is specifically invested in kimono wearing he can still be inexperienced, or it could be a design detail to make it more obvious.

However in the original post they also theorize that he’s wearing his mother’s kimono, taking into account honyalala’s comment in the artbook where she says she wanted to include elements that reminded everyone of his mother everywhere.

And although I like this theory and think it’s adorable, I don’t think it should be taken into account. I get the feeling that they wanted to make the design itself have a lot of feminine elements or that remind us of the feminine, of women, and ultimately, of his mother. But he himself says in the Drama CD that the only thing he has left from his mother is the hairpin he gave her when he was a kid.

It could be questioned whether the kimono really belongs to his mother and NC made a mistake writing this, but it seems to me to be too much of an important and obvious mistake for them not to change it when they revised it.

There are symbolic elements that refer to certain themes to represent them visually, but they don’t have to be taken literally, so I think that even if there are many feminine elements in his design to remember his mother, it doesn’t mean they’re all inherited from her, but rather a representation of the relationship between Koujaku and his mother and how he remembers her and the impact she had on him.

So for me this kimono/furisode is a normal woman’s kimono that he chose because he liked it, then customized.

OBI

Let’s take a look at the obi. His obi is a male styled obi, narrow and placed over the hips. The female ones are much wider, decorated and placed higher, covering part of the waist and chest. But the knot he uses is a bunko knot, a typically feminine knot.

The pattern on his obi is a turtle shell pattern, kikko. Turtles are known for how long their lifespan can be, so it symbolizes longevity, a positive desire for a long life. Turtles can also protect themselves with their shell, it is their shield, so it also gives the idea of protection, a prayer for good luck. It could also allude to solidity, stability and strong power, given the nature of their sturdy geometric shapes. Apparently it was a very prestigious pattern when first introduced, even treated as sacred, becoming a pattern only the high classes could use.

The flower you see inside the pattern is a chrysanthemum, extremely simplified, like the family crest symbols, identical even, although the image quality isn't very good. This flower is the symbol of the imperial family of Japan, and I think they made this choice precisely because he is the heir of his family, of their criminal “empire”. The chrysanthemum is related to longevity as well, autumn, nobility and youth, as well as having ties to Buddhism. This flower in ancient times would repel evil spirits and bring prosperity, and it was first introduced as a medicinal flower.

COLLAR

I've always assumed that the flower engraved on his necklace thing’s decoration was a cherry blossom, given how important it is to his identity and his relationship with Aoba. But, although not always, cherry blossoms are usually depicted with this small gap on its leaves, but this one is round. I don’t know how much credit to give to it being a small decoration and not incorporating certain details because of that or if it could actually be a different, similar flower like an apricot blossom or some other small round flower. Apricot blossoms are related to resilience, indomitable spirit and the ability to overcome adversity because of their late winter blooming. Also modesty, timid love and a timid maiden.

[lackablazeical]

If the Addams were in the Krang invasion, who would die first? Is there a Casey Jr in your Addams AU? Would Casey be _Leo's_ student? How would he get along with the others And what does he think of them? Is his mother dead? What would his relationship with April be like? Do you have a design of everyone in that apocalyptic event?

(sorry for many questions)

1. I'd say maybe Mikey, just bc he'd jump right into a battle w/o thinking, but also Raph maybe while he's protecting his bros fr (for the bunnies, it'd be Kenichi EASILY)

2. Canonically no BUT I sketched a design for this (Casey would kinda be everyone's student, he learns from all of them, Leo would be the most affectionate to CJ tho)

Casey would get along pretty well with the others, he'd probably be a bit put off by Mikey and Donnie (Both of them thrive in chaos and CJ would be very stoic and a bit of a hardass), he admires Leo's fighting skill and undying loyalty, and he enjoys training with Raph

3. Cass would be dead yes, probably used as a meat shield LMAO

4. April would be a bit like an estranged step-mom to him, he's chill w/ her but they don't talk much

5. No bc. I'm lazy 👉👉 but I sketched a Leo idea

The turtles are built as war machines, they'd absolutely thrive in war (tho Leo would be even MORE sleepless and very underweight bc he wants his family to eat before him)

Also I do know that Donnie would be blind and Deaf in the Krangg war (he was too busy making weapons to follow OSHA) and Mikey would've unlocked his mystic ability but it would not be nearly as honed as it is in the movie, it'd be more like a wildfire type vibe LMAO

And a doodle of their reactions to the news ft. Rottmnt CJ

[brattyfics]

Swampbound I

Adla had lived in Florida her whole life, yet the strange debris that washed ashore after storms still startled her. Broken tree limbs and splintered pieces of homes were expected, but today was different.

Tangled in seaweed, she spotted frantic turtle hatchlings, frogs, and crabs struggling to reclaim their place in the chaos. But nothing compared to the sight before her: a bloody, mangled deer carcass lying in the tall grass, torn flesh and fur clinging to shredded cloth.

Her instincts screamed at her to turn back, but curiosity pulled her closer. Kneeling down, she caught the metallic scent of blood, and a chill gripped her. Something violent had occurred.

A gator? No, they dragged their prey into the water. Maybe a hawk? But even a bird of prey wouldn’t leave this kind of mess. Could it be a bobcat? They prowled these swamps, opportunistic in their hunting. But as she examined the prints—large, wolf-like, and deeper than any she’d seen—her heart raced. Four parallel prints faded into something far stranger: two flatter, elongated impressions.

Like feet.

Human feet.

The footprints were far too big to be hers, and she knew she was alone out there. The air felt thick, the swamp unnaturally quiet, as if the world was holding its breath. Her father’s voice echoed in her mind: “Never run from a person or an animal. Running makes you prey.”

She gripped her hunting knife, steadying her wrist, eyes scanning the brush for hidden dangers but there was nothing– no one hiding in the bushes, no animal stalking her. Just thick humidity, carrying the earthy scent of wet soil and decaying leaves. 

Time to head back.

As she treaded carefully over the spongy ground, the low rumble of an engine caught her attention. She hadn’t expected company—she rarely did. As a child, she’d hated the isolation of this place, but now it felt like a shield.

Rushing up the muddy incline, her boots kicked loose clumps of earth. At the porch of her old Cracker house, she leaned against the weathered wood, squinting down the overgrown path. A boxy, faded green Jeep Cherokee bounced along the uneven track.

Jesse Hampton. Of course.

He stepped out, scanning the trees before his gaze settled on her. His mahogany skin glistened under the humid sun, damp shirt clinging to his chest, hair wild from the moisture. Stubble covered his jaw—unusual for him but understandable after the chaos of the storm. Even so, he was as handsome as ever.

“Addy,” he called, voice steady but laced with urgency. “You shouldn’t be out here alone.” His gaze darted behind her, searching the shadows. “I know it seems all quiet and nice, but it ain’t safe.”

She rolled her eyes, not wanting to give him more reason to worry. “You’re soundin’ just like my father.”

Jesse’s expression tightened, something unspoken hanging between them. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Promise me you’ll be careful. You got a light in you that draws eyes—sometimes the wrong ones.”

His words hung heavy, and a flicker of fear flashed in her eyes. “You’re fussing over nothing. I’m just fine,” she shot back, but unease gnawed at her. Jesse knew something she didn’t.

“What you doing out here, anyway?” she asked, folding her arms.

“Do I need a reason?” he countered, flashing that charming smile of his.

“You always got a reason when you show up without warning. So, what’s the scoop this time?”

Jesse owned a busy convenience store in town but thrived on side hustles, always finding a way to get by. She admired his resourcefulness, but it was a reminder that he always had some angle he was working.

“Just wanted to check on you, see how you’re faring after the storm. But if I ain’t welcome…” He paused, putting on a mock-serious face. “I can just as easily turn right back around.”

“Yeah, right,” she scoffed, turning away as she ascended the steps. “You say that every time, but you always wind up inside.” She shot him a teasing grin over her shoulder. “You don’t even bother asking to come in anymore.”

“After all the times I’ve been ‘round, why would I ask?” He leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a playful spark in his eye. “Sometimes late at night, if I remember right.”

Adla shook her head, heading toward the kitchen. “That ain’t the same thing, and you know it.”

She opened the fridge and grabbed a pitcher of cold water, pouring a glass and handing it to him. Their fingers brushed, igniting that familiar spark that always hung in the air between them.

“Why you gotta say it like that?” Jesse asked, his brow furrowing as he took a sip from his glass.

“‘Cause you gotta get it, Jesse,” Adla replied, picking her words with care. “I ain’t one for surprises. You should’ve let me know you were coming before just poppin’ up like this.” She forced a sweet smile, hoping to ease the sting. Before anything, he was her closest friend, and the last thing she wanted was to hurt him.

He leaned casually against the counter, a sly grin spreading across his face. Adla considered asking if he’d been snooping around her property—Jesse had a knack for being sneaky—but thought better of it. Questions would only lead to more questions.

“I thought I was special,” he inched closer, a playful glint in his eyes.

“Oh, really? Where’d you get that idea from?” She raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching with amusement.

“Just a hunch,” he said, tugging at a tight curl in her ponytail, the spiral bouncing back like a rubber band. He leaned in to whisper, “I figured if I play my cards right and keep doing that thing you like, I might get a little something in return.”

She fought to hold back a smile. “Like what exactly?”

“Ain’t askin’ for much. Just the freedom to come and go when I feel like it.” Jesse leaned in for a kiss, his lips hovering just shy of hers. Adla pushed against his broad chest, stopping him.

Jesse was fine as hell—fit, sharp, and always finding a way out of trouble. She liked being around him, sure, but no one—not even him—was about to think they had a hold on her. She ran her own life, and settling down wasn’t in the cards, especially when she knew other women were likely getting a taste of that same charm and quick thinking too.

“Nope, not a chance,” she said, playful but firm, shaking her head. “But since you’re already here, I could use your help with something.”

“Oh really?” he replied, his interest piqued. “What you need?”

“Help me set these traps and see what washed up after that storm,” she said, stealing a quick sip from his cup. She wanted to catch some crabs and fish to fill up her freezer, and the thought of going back into the woods alone made her uneasy.

“Aww, man,” he groaned dramatically. “I should’ve known coming over here meant I’d have to work. You’re a real slave driver, you know that?”

They settled into a rhythm, working side by side, their comfortable banter broken by the silence of the storm’s aftermath. They inspected her garden for damage while Jesse filled her in on town gossip—apparently, Mrs. Flowers had been caught in Mr. Jenkins’ house by Mr. Flowers. Uprooted mustard greens littered the ground as Adla pulled them up, but thankfully, the okra and sweet potatoes had weathered the storm. She just hoped the excess moisture wouldn’t lead to rot.

Moving on to the fishing nets and traps, they stumbled upon something concerning.

A mountain of fish heads littered the reeds where she usually set her traps, alongside crab shells stripped of their claws and backs. This wasn’t the typical damage—something worse lurked here, disturbingly messy and uncharacteristic of the area’s usual predators.

“What in the world?” Adla muttered, her heart racing as she scanned the ground for prints. “You think it was a gator?

“A gator wouldn’t leave pieces like this,” Jesse replied, his brow furrowing.

“Something else made this mess,” she finished, feeling her skin prickling as those unsettling feelings from earlier came rushing back. She described the strange prints and the shredded carcass she’d seen to Jesse, who listened closely, rubbing her shoulders to calm her down.

“You shouldn't be out here tonight, Addy. Why don’t you come stay with me?”

Apprehension settled in her gut about what the darkness might bring, but she couldn’t accept his offer. His grandmother’s old house might be just down the road, but it felt wrong to spend the night in another woman’s home—even if she had adored Adla.

Plus, sneaking around with Jesse where anyone could see was out of the question. She refused to give anyone the chance to stir up drama or question her independence. She couldn’t bear the thought of becoming the next Mrs. Flowers, her good name dragged through the mud for all who would listen.

“No one—and nothing—is going to run me out of my house,” she said, half to him, half to herself. This place was her sanctuary, the fruit of her struggles and her ancestors' labor. They had fought hard for this land, and she felt a fierce pride in maintaining it. Out in the wilderness, peace was something earned, not given. She would defend her home if it came to that.

“You don’t know what’s lurking out here, and you think it’s smart to be by yourself? That don’t make no sense, baby doll,” Jesse insisted, his usual persistence edged with urgency.

“Don't call me that. I’m not your ‘baby doll,’” she shot back, irritation flaring. She knew what was good for her better than anyone else ever could. Jesse had been testing her boundaries too much lately.

“I already told you—I’m staying. You should head out on out here before dark.”

“Don’t be like that—” he started, his voice smooth and sweet like molasses. Today, though, she wasn’t falling for it.

“Go on,” she said, stepping in close to block his path. “I’ll finish up and lock everything up tight, but I need you to leave now.”

Jesse met her eyes, noticing the resolve etched into her expression. Adla stood firm, arms crossed, one hip jutting out, her nose wrinkled just so. She had made up her mind, and he knew he’d already pushed her enough for one day.

“Alright, I’m on my way,” he agreed. “But you promise me you ain’t stepping outside tonight. Whatever you do, don’t go crossing that threshold.”

Adla frowned at his strange phrasing. “Why would I be out here? I ain’t foolish enough to roam around at night." His shoulders were knotted with tension. "What’s got you so riled up?”

“Just trust me on this,” he insisted, locking eyes with her, his expression serious. “You’ll be safe, no matter what, if you just stay inside tonight.”

Last she checked, danger didn’t give a damn about doors, windows, or any other barriers. But it was clear he wouldn’t leave until she agreed.

“Alright, fine,” she said, stretching out the words, “I’ll stay in tonight. Not like I was gonna be out and about anyway.”

“Good,” Jesse smiled, wrapping her up in his arms tight. “I’ll call you later, and you better pick up. If you don’t, I’ll be back, whether you want me to or not.” As he turned to leave, Adla couldn’t help but smile after him. Jesse could be a handful, but beneath his cool front, she knew he cared for her just as fiercely as she did for him. In the wild expanse of the Florida swamps, that bond meant everything.

He lingered in the driveway while she hurried to gather crab shells, tossing them into the compost bin—no sense letting them go to waste. He didn’t start his engine until she was safely inside with the door closed, waving goodbye from the street as she watched from the window.

After locking up, she sank into a well-deserved bubble bath, a sweet reward for a hard day’s work. The clawfoot tub, older than her but still in solid shape, had become a cherished fixture in her home. The bathroom, filled with the scent of incense and candles, wrapped around her like a familiar hug. After her father passed, her first goal had been to breathe life back into the old house, make it her own.

Reminders of him were everywhere—the doorframe where he marked her height on the first day of school, the cast-iron pans he used for dinner. But mostly, the house was hers now—weathered, yet undeniably new in its own way.

Her time in the city felt like a world away from the peace she found here. Juggling multiple jobs just to make ends meet, she was always surrounded by nosy neighbors and men who didn’t know how to take no for an answer. But the worst part was the stalker—a shadowy figure who slipped chilling notes under her apartment door. I know who you are. What you can do. It left her confused and drained, but she didn’t tuck tail and run back home until her father passed away.

The guilt of not being there at the end haunted her, so she kept busy. Her part-time job at the new bed-and-breakfast in town helped pay the bills, and on weekends, she sold her art—sculptures made from found objects—at a flea market a couple of towns over. Every spare moment was spent creating with her hands. Her life wasn’t glamorous, but the peace and was worth more than anything else.

“When You’re Young and in Love” by The Marvelettes played softly on the record player, one of her mother’s favorites. She couldn’t quite relate to the notion of being swept off her feet but it sounded good, romantic even. Her daddy had been left in pieces when her mama died, never even thinking about finding another. She yearned for a love that strong, but the idea also chilled her to the bone.

She had only a handful of pictures, but from those, Adla saw the resemblance. She inherited her father’s level-headed temperament, but her rich skin tone, flat nose, and wide, expressive eyes—all of that came from her mother. Those features made her feel close to the woman whose absence she felt deeply.

With a sigh, Adla rose from the cool water, wrapping a towel around her waist. Her earlier worries faded as she slathered on cocoa butter lotion and slipped into a floral-patterned cotton nightgown.

After her nighttime routine of checking the locks and lights, she settled in. The old wooden floors creaked softly underfoot—a comforting sound that added to the home’s charm.

Just as she was about to crawl into bed, faint sounds from outside caught her ear—rhythmic scraping and thumping carried on the wind. Strange noises weren’t rare out in the boonies, but this one sent a shiver down her spine. Something was different. She paused in the hallway, glancing toward the door.

A tug, almost physical, pulled her toward it, despite Jesse’s warnings. It was as if something—someone—was calling her, and the urge was too strong to ignore. 

The door creaked as she pushed it open. Through the screen, she squinted, trying to make sense of the dim shapes outside. A flicker of movement caught her eye, and in the cool moonlight, she saw it—something massive. A shadow loomed over the porch, too large to be any regular animal.

A knot twisted in her gut. It wasn’t a bobcat. This was more like a coyote—if coyotes were massive. No, this creature looked more like a wolf, except wolves didn’t roam Florida’s saltwater jungle.

Its amber eyes glowed like lanterns in the dark, locking onto hers with an intensity that left her feeling ice-cold. Jesse’s warnings echoed in her mind. Was this creature more than it seemed?

I know this fool ain’t lookin’ at me like I’m dinner. Adla squared her shoulders. “You don’t belong here,” she hollered, “Now, git! Get on outta here!”

The wolf growled low and deep, the frightening sound vibrating through the night air. It took a shaky step forward, and she noticed it was limping. A deep, ugly gash ran from its back down to its hind leg, blood darkening the wooden porch.

She didn’t move. Something about the creature—its pain, its presence—held her still. It was more than an injured beast. She couldn’t explain it, but she felt rooted to the spot.

A wave of instinct surged through her, a primal warning that clashed with her fear.

“Don’t you dare come any closer!” she warned, reaching for the shotgun above the door, her gaze locked on the approaching creature. She raised the gun, aiming through the screen, her finger on the trigger.

If it took just one more step forward—

The wolf paused at the door’s edge, held back by something unseen, something stronger than the flimsy screen. Her eyes flicked to the threshold, recalling Jesse’s cryptic words about things not crossing certain lines.

This was it. A choice. But Adla hesitated, her finger hovering over the trigger. She couldn’t pull it.

The wolf whined, collapsing in a heap at her feet, its strength giving out. Its amber eyes, still glowing, held no aggression—only a silent plea. The sight tugged at something deep inside her, stirring memories of her own struggles.

Her father’s words echoed in her mind: “Respect the creatures out here, just like you respect yourself. Life’s tough enough without us makin’ it harder on each other.”

Adla sighed, lowering the shotgun. The wolf’s blood was already drying on the porch. Tomorrow, she’d scrub it clean, but for tonight, she’d let the creature stay. She hoped it would make it through the night.

After triple-checking the locks, she placed the shotgun within arm’s reach and settled into bed, the creaking floorboards beneath her a familiar lullaby. Yet, the strange pull toward the wolf lingered in her mind. Maybe it wasn’t just an animal, but something deeper—a reflection of her own struggles, a sign from her father. Whatever it was, she’d reckon with it tomorrow. For now, she surrendered to sleep, trusting that both she and the wolf would survive the night.

Chapter Two.

@nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @sageispunk @megamindsecretlair @blowmymbackout @kindofaintrovert @avoidthings @zillasvilla @insidefeelingofanadult @theereina @slutsareteacherstoo @babybratzmaraj @senajaiaspeak @princessmakipala @writingsbytee @planetblaque @liquorlaughslove @judymfmoody @playgurlxoxo @theescorpiolovechile @keyaho @gg-trini i @vivaalenaa @li-da-savage @ash-ketchumzzz