#thank you Lou you are awesome!

[ssreeder]

Hi ssreeder, this isn't really a question, and I have never used tumblr before, so I'm still getting used to it... but I made an account because I wanted to let you know that I've been reading the LIAB series. I'm finishing the last chapter in book 2 tonight, and I'm so excited to start the final book. I've laughed, I've cried, I've yelled at my phone when Ara and Jet made me want to rip out my hair (*sighs* good times). But, seriously, thank you for putting this series out for us to enjoy. I believe this is one the longest stories I've read ( the longest would probably be Crimson Rivers). And I'm excited to see to where you take us with your story.

Again, thank you

*pretend I'm doing the Fire Nation gesture of bowing to say 'Thank you'*

~Dr. S.L~

OHH HEY THERE!!! I have seen your comments coming through I’m sorry I haven’t been able to respond to them I’ve been slacking! But yeah usually I’m faster at answering on tumblr (at least I try!!) so I’m happy you made one!!

YOU FINISHED RIA?! WOW that’s awesome! ITF starts rough but it calms down before ramping back up again lol. I’m so glad you’re enjoying & it’s so nice of you to come to tumblr to share your kind words!! I APPRECIATE YOU!!!

I look forward to reading more comments from you (if you keep leaving them no pressure!)

warning though! My tumblr space is not spoiler free but if you block the tag ITF it’ll keep everything from the last book hidden! At least it SHOULD (tumblrs janky)

THANKS FOR THE KIND ASK!!!

[whollyjoly]

Dusty Rose - Lou

dusty rose. even the two words that make up the name give a sense of warmth, of calm, of soft contentment and sweet joy. you are the color of the scent of incense, carried gently on a passing breeze and lit by the first rays of dawn. theres something about it that feels old - not so old to be ancient, but old enough to cause the familiar stirrings of nostalgia, of comfort, that accompany your presence. you walk through a garden of roses at sunrise, alone save the whispers from the flowers, and you feel at peace 🍃

Happiest of (slightly belated) Birthdays to @historyisfullofwars!

I was feeling inspired, and wanted to make a little something for your birthday! I realized that I didn't assign you a color during the positivity ask game (which I am so, so sorry for!!), so I wanted to make sure I put your vibes into words. This was the very first color that you reminded me of 💕

I'm sorry it's a little late, but I hope you have an incredible day! Thank you for being such a joy to interact with, for giving so much to this fandom, and for being a great friend, my dear 🥰

photo sources: x x x x x x x x

[crowvainn]

going insane going insane (ducktales s3 ep 5, incoming [messy and all over the place] yap session hehe)

[detective-giggles]

you had me at "extra special guest: Lou the Lizard" 🦎🦎🦎

Haha. Hi friend!!

There’s not a lot to this yet, I’m still trying to decide how cool the loft’s elevator will be?

But TK convinces Carlos to go with him when he sets Lou free. But they have a power outage and they’re all trapped in the elevator. (Probably in the dark.)

I kind of suggested it as a joke and then was encouraged to write it.

So with the 911 Bingo deadline approaching, I have decided to go for it!

[punk-in-docs]

‼️ LUST AT FIRST BITE‼️

The Lost Boys AU, feat; Vamp!Frances x Human!Birdie

3.9k words

Summary: He’s tucked away where he usually is. Playing at the lie of life, watching on from the shadows, up on the roof of the tacky gift shop, puffing on a cigarette. A lone evil fiery eye cutting in the dark. Eyes scraping over every pretty person in this crowd, and seeing who, oh who, will be his dinner.

Eenie. Meenie. Miney. You-

(The awesome blood drip banner is not mine! I found on @riottsrph ‘s page. Thank you!)

Santa Carla, 1987

The boardwalk was always packed with people. Heaving in summer. Air full of noise and screams from the denizens on the giant dipper. The snaking notched backbone that arches, governs, over this place. Gulls shriek. Flickering glare of neon and flashing bulbs filling your sight everywhere. Greedy eyes don’t know where to rest first.

People flock to this place in their hundreds. This colourful edifice that exudes joy and junk food fuelled adrenaline. Teenage euphoria, arcade games and fast thrills, right next to walls plastered with flapping scales of forever-mounting missing posters. Twitching in the sea air as people sagged with worry, gather and weep and pin up even more. Hollow smiles, dead black and white eyes, all unseeing, plead from flyers.

Too many flyers.

You had to bob and weave to get anywhere in this dense bubbling crowd.

His hand is firmly tucked in yours. Smell of sugary popcorn and hot dogs is ripe, carried with sea foam on hot summer air. Gusting over your heads as you move along.

You met Nick in the pizzeria just off the boardwalk. You’d gone for a night out with friends. You both bonded damn near instantly over pineapple on pizza. Avid fans, addicts even. You ate pizza. He flirted. You flirted back.

He comped your meal when you went to pay. “On the house babe.” With a grin that should be snapped in vogue. Stunning,

Way too stunning, even in his company issue yellow and red polo tee with the pizzeria name embroidered on the breast.

He asked you to wait by the Wave Jammer for him after his shift finished. You did. The girls send you off freshly glossed and hair fluffed, sniggering.

He walked you to your bus stop when the boardwalk lights began to dim. Clicking off one by one. Sodium streetlights the only things leaving their dozy glow. The sound of the sea lashing sand in the distance. He gave you a sweet mind melting kiss. Backed by the harmony of waves and denizens screams. Passed you a glossy pizza flyer with his number scrawled right on it in thick marker.

He’d called. He’d swung by and taken you out. Your second date had been in a cheap mom and pop trattoria uptown. Candlelight, cheap Chianti, and happy conversation which quickly ended with you screwing each others brains out, up against the brick wall in the filthy back alley with your panties dangling off your ankle.

And now here you were- on your fourth date. Quickly becoming drunk on touch. You wandered the arcade dodging sugar buzzed kids, cheeks sticky with cotton candy, and abrasive punks with neon spiked hair. You were chatting easy, and flirting over arcade games.

Tasting sea salt and red slushy off his tongue. You tugged each other along and pulled too and fro like the inky tide wrapped up in the night just beyond the border of sand and the fierce orange lick of oil can bonfires on the beach. Life was fit to burst with fun. You were young and had lovesick heart eyes for each other.

He kept on ushering you close and kissing you again. Hand across your waist. Balmy hot. Even through your dress. It’s a strappy dress, bright purple like amethyst or lilac petals. You let your hair loose. Kinky and big in the humid sea air. Lou Gramm is playing clunky rock music over the speakers.

Nick is just next level gorgeous. You have to admit. Literally panty dropping. Lips rose pink. Caramel skin. Long lashes which kiss his cheeks like he’s Bambi. Smile like a damn Calvin Klein model. And the dark sweep of coiffed curls to match. One cross earring glimmers against the backdrop of his hair.

You keep sneaking your hand in the back pocket of his trousers. Disgustingly crushing on this man. The way he loops his arm to your waist though, says he returns very that sentiment.

He looks totally casual here next to you in bleach blue jeans, sneakers, and a blood wine shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Arm slung around your waist as you lean at the balustrade looking down onto the beach opposite a tacky tourist gift shop selling keychains and chalk painted rocks. Snow globes swirl with chunky glitter from glass shelves in the window.

His arm suddenly squeezes you in closer when a gaggle of dirt bikes shriek their way up the board walk toward you, pedestrians scattered like ripples on waves to avoid being mowed flat. Four bikes. You can hear seedy rock blasting from a boom box that one of them has strapped to their bikes. WASP, you think. All shriek and shred.

They weave and race through the thinning crowds. Whooping and hollering like a pack of feral hyenas. Tongues out. Grinning sneers at people like Jack O’Lanterns. One with a backcombed blonde mullet that’s stiff with product, and made you think of a lions mane, makes a crazed face at you both. Tongue pointing out his mouth as he leers at you both especially. Tight white pants on and a swallow tail pointed coat like a dam circus ringleader flying behind him. He’s looking you up a down with a flick of his eyes. Hungrily.

As soon as they came, all noise, filth and fury, they go. Racing fast off into the night in a stinking cloud of engine exhaust and harrowing, whooping cackles.

“Jerks.” You scoff derisively. Glaring after the deafening bikes. Had Nick not pulled you in they’d have knocked you flat. He nuzzled your jawbone. Kisses you there too.

“It’s alright baby. I got you.” He smiles. You put your hand on his. Thankful. You kiss him again. His hand comes up and cups the back of your head.

It’s then you first feel it.

Something stings on your skin. Sudden and sharp. Mean. Like a bite, or a pinch. A little drop of sulphuric acid. Right at the nape of your neck. Feeling of your hair standing up on end. Skin turns to poison pinpricks.

Someone’s eyes were on you.

You pull back, Nick’s hand slips back on your neck, you’re glancing around trying to see through the thronging clouds, to catch whoever was looking at you. Your hair whips around your face from the sea air. The breeze that wraps your skin.

It brings the smell of you right on across to him. Past the stench of hot dogs, salty sandy air, and sea froth. Sweat and cheap perfume, plus the scent of some recently used pink bar soap caught in the crease of your elbow.

Drifting across. Calling to him the same way that throb of your carotid does. A full lively artery housed under sweat stroked skin. He bets you taste simply delicious. Syrupy like hot honey. He’s salivating already.

He’s tucked away where he usually is. Playing at the lie of life, watching on from the shadows, up on the roof of the tacky gift shop, puffing on a cigarette. A lone evil fiery eye cutting in the dark. Eyes scraping over every pretty person in this crowd, and seeing who, oh who, will be his dinner.

Eenie. Meenie. Miney. You-

He’s up there. Keeping shadows company. Wind carving around him on the roof. Wrapped up in a big bomber leather jacket, the words ‘GO TO HELL’ scrawled across his back in white letters, emblazoned with rhinestones. An assortment of buckles and zips hanging off him, where he perched like a bat - a bat fresh off the brooding Bauhaus nightclub scene. Not even the Santa Carla heat could penetrate his skin and warm his old, dead bones.

Bones, under lean muscles and skin glittering in so much jewellery. Studs and chains hang off his shoulders. and biker boots. Many chains, necklaces, one strand of pearls and a rosary, dripping with crosses linked across his neck - darkly ironic nature of that made him smile. A gothic dipped punk bearing holy crosses. Eyes lined in kohl. Scratchy tattoos on his arms. Fingers layered in goth rings. Daggers in hearts. Crosses and bejewelled skulls. Billy Idol eat your fucking heart out.

Don’t tempt him actually. He’s too hungry. He’d swallow a heart tonight in one clean bite.

Hair slicked back on his head, coming to a kinked curl where it brushes his collar. Eyes dipped into cinnamon brown. But in all these neons they seemed to drop acidly into nasty black. Wide and dark like a cats. Something that definitely prowls and lopes around with grave grace. Danger simmers to a boil constantly around him and every gang on this boardwalk has learned the hard way not to mess. He’s made ugly reminders when those moron gangs get too big for their knock off DM boots.

He will serve grisly reminders of why he’s the top of the food chain here - with great feral pleasure. He’s been here since before the boardwalk itself even existed. Way back when it was a victorian bathhouse for fucks sake.

He takes a deep pull. Plucks the fiery cig from his smirking mouth. Fingernails blunt and chipped painted black underneath his fingerless leather gloves. Teeth too white and sharp as he smiles. Marlboro smoke curling around carnivore teeth.

He flicks the cigarette away. Sparks spray across the roof where it lands. Done with it. He’s found his next source of satisfaction. His hunger is awake and roaming. Baying for a feed.

He watches your date take your hand. Twirl you in his arms so your hair and your pretty skirts fly. He leads you towards the cotton candy stand. You can hear the old timey jangle of fun fair music. He likes the thought of pure spun sugar - blue as cornflowers - being ready for him on the bed of your tongue.

A smirk writ across his lips as he steps, then drops fully into the shadows behind the building. His sturdy boots crunch on fast food trash as he lands. Greasy puddles capturing neon signs make up this back alley. Now his blood is pumping hot. He licks his lips.

You’re on the carousel when you feel it come back again. Stronger. Nearer. You feel a gaze burn the back of your head like someone’s stubbing out a cigarette on you.

So sudden it makes you pull back from his kiss - like you’d been suddenly jabbed with a huge hypodermic needle. Felt the chilling flush of cold poison slide into your blood.

Cause baby, that’s him all over.

Every inch caustic, acidic poison.

The worst of the very worst, of hell’s lowest dredgings.

A flush of unease grabs you. Gasping, you twist from where you’re sat on the horse. Holding the twisted pole. Bracelet sliding down your arm. That sensation- it scared you.

Music whirls in your ears. Sea air laced with the scent of kettle corn pulses around you with the red and yellow lights. You peer around to try and see in-between the poles and crowds.

You can’t see anything noticeable. No one stands out. They’re all blurs and distortion whizzing by you to a chirpy carnival tune. You watch for eyes to meet yours as you dip and bob on the horse, and none come.

“Babe?” Nick asks you. His dark brows creasing in the middle from your sudden flinching away.

Hand comes warm and comforting on your arm. Trying to bring you back. You turn. But your stomach is squirming with unease. You mask it with a smile. Sweet as the huge cotton candy he just bought you.

“It’s nothing...” You chirp. A Lie. Your hand back on his again. Letting his comforting smile buoy you. You settle your attention back to him. Not to the graze on your skin that’s coiling your spine like a fucking venom spitting serpent.

“Why don’t I go and get us something to drink huh? Maybe a lemonade?” He suggests. Swinging around the horse and lifting the back of your hand to his mouth to kiss it. The other is rubbing the back of your neck. Soothing way your clammy panic.

It makes you smile. His doting on you. Made you feel like you hung the stars. With your head spinning and your nerves nudged into the wrong side of uneasy, you could use some sugar and a welcome distraction.

“That would be great, actually...” You smile. It feels hollow even to your mind. Your head is spinning like a top on this carousel and you want something sweet to wash everything sour thats nipping at your mind, away.

He kisses you sweetly on the lips. Taste of sea salt and cherry slushie again. Savouring him before he goes. Ralph Lauren cologne. His soft curls through your fingers before he steps away. And then with a flash of that stunning smile, he hops off the carousel, and within a minute he’s gone. Swallowed into the heaving crowds.

So you bob and dip on the carousel horse all on your own. Watching the room fly by in a twirl of chilli red and golden yellow.

You’re not without company for very long.

Distracted, you scan the entrance to the carousel for Nick on what must be your final whirl around.

So distracted are you, head turned, back to him. It allows him to sneak in.

Your spine once again turns to scraping prodding needles when a drift of something comes over your shoulder. Something insidious slides to your conscious; something acrid yet smooth you take notice of. You liken it to whiskey. Smooth yet rough all at once. You hate whiskey.

Smoky cigarettes bittered with engine exhaust. A sweet tinge of cotton candy. Copper metal, warm pennies. The heavy presence of someone lingering behind you. The brush of a clammy leather jacket. The sound of a leather glove squeezing and twisting on the pole of the horse opposite you.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing riding all on her own?” Comes a dulcet purr from beside you.

You look at the source of this voice; seeing nothing but a trouble wrapped punk suddenly stood next to you. As if materialised from the same acrid engine smoke that clings to his leathers.

Brown eyes deep enough to dive in. In this light, they are black as a cats. A smirk on his face that makes you shiver. Lips so plump and beautiful it made you think of kisses - plump lips slick with too much spit and wet tongues. He had lips that looked like paradise - the likes you’ve seen only in seedy pornos. However. Trouble virtually hummed through him like a live wire. Get too close risk getting your fingers singed, girl. Burnt ozone.

“Looking like a lost little baby bird. All alone out your nest.” He comments as you frown at him.

“I’m not on my own. I’m with someone.”You tell him. Steely ire woven to your words like chain mail. Back off creep.

“Lucky someone.” He shoots back. All panther smooth. Packed with flirt. Eyes roaming down to your legs and back up again. He can smell that pretty boys cologne and sweat he’d rubbed all over you. The stink of some prissy designer cologne. That won’t do at all.

“Can’t convince you to ditch them can I? Baby.” He smirks. Prowling around you.

“I got a bike. We could take a little drive up the beach a ways down west. Past the bluff. I know a cosy little spot. Get a campfire going.” He charms.

You feel the imperative need to keep your eyes on him. Untrusting.

He moves with such liquid fluidity not even the whirl of the carousel affects his gait. Walks with a cocksure pace like he owns the place. He’s done this before. Doubtless.

“No thanks.” You reply archly. You know trouble when it comes loping up to your side in eyeliner and jangling jewellery. Plain as the nose on your face.

Of course it doesn’t put him off one bit. It makes him dig his teeth in deeper. With glee. The challenge was the tastiest part of the chase.

He chuckles. “Only, I’m awful curious. Never seen you round here before. Now, I’d sure as shit remember a pretty face like yours.”

“I’m not a tourist. I live here.” You reply snippily. You live but two miles from here. With your dying houseplant for company and dead end job. Your only relative being your old blind great aunt, Rositsa.

“And I don’t remember wanting an annoying prick to come crashing my date, trying his luck and barking up the wrong tree entirely.” You snap back. A pretty little nasty smile on your lips. Sweet like cherries and cream.

“Breaking my heart over here, sugar.” He smiles. Undeterred.

You doubt he had one to break.

He was all smarm and swagger. Definitely sans heart.Probably had tried it on with any easy party girl who got drunk and made moony love eyes in his direction. He seems like he has some void inside. Something he tried to fill with stranger sex and drugs and trouble. And blood.

And it’s something he’ll never be able to satiate. Not with all the infinite time he’s literally got viced in his leather gloved hands.

So he daggers his way through these crowds. Chows down cheap boardwalk takeout from the golden dragon right out the cartoon. Sneaks into rides without paying. Pick pockets sunburnt tourists. Snorts lines of angel dust off filthy bathroom counters. Throws molly down his neck every night and washes it down with tequila shots. Endlessly abrasive to all authority and flirting with anything bearing a pulse. Dynamite pace predator life. Undisputed King of this neon arcade kingdom.

“Maybe I could bark up the right tree.” He seeks.

“My date will be back soon.” You say. In the hopes it shakes him off. Makes him get a clue.

“He seems to be taking his sweet ass time. Doesn’t he…. Maybe he got lost.” He decides. Voice all sing song and light.

Swaying in closer like you aren’t giving him ‘fuck off’ vibes. Eyeing daggers. How he so likes sharp things. Lust that feels like it could prick skin it’s so sharp. Theres smoke and something mysteriously copper on his breath.

“Maybe there’s a line.” You concede. Boredly done with this conversation. The carousel has to be coming to a stop soon. You want to get off this ride. It’s not fun anymore.

“Maybe he’s gotten distracted by something leggy and pretty…” He remarks with a raise of his brows. “No shortage of skirt round here.” He grins.

It feels like swallowing a boulder to admit to that. Nick was a flirt, sure. You guys weren’t exclusive. But that nasty shred of doubt made a home in your stomach. Birthed anxiety in your veins.

“Listen jerk, go play around with someone else, alright.” You snap. Eyes narrowed You pull your purse strap on your shoulder. You slip off your horse and come to stand. Ready to get off. Rides no fun anymore.

“Names Frances.” He supplies. “And uh, I’m good baby bird. Don’t have anywhere else I gotta be.”

“Lucky me.” You bite out. Tone all sharp poison.

Oh, he wanted to take you home right now and turn your goddamn bed into a crime scene - or the aftermath of a porno shoot. Maybe both if he’s feeling generous.

“Now, If you wouldn’t mind y’know….fucking off…” You make a move to pass him. You’re gonna go find Nick.

He doesn’t budge an inch.

You stand firm. Chest to chest. His arms make brackets against the poles. Closing you in. He tilts his head. The kink in his hair brushes against his collar. A ruinous little curl comes loping over his forehead.

“Come find me if you want a real date. Little bird. I’ll make good and sure that you won’t be able to walk afterwards.” He smirks.

Before reaching one half leather clad finger over to brush a curl of hair back over your bare shoulder. His touch leaves goosebumps in its wake. Serpent slither down your spine that claws at your heels. Flushed arsenic in your blood.

“I’ll make it hard for you to walk right now if you don’t get out my way.” You threaten.

He seemed mildly turned on by the idea. “Promise or a threat?” He checks.

“Move.” Comes bitten out your mouth. All low and venomous. He likes the shape of your lips when you’re angry. Lush. Angry. He likes your lipstick too. Love to taste that.

“I hang out by the arcade. Join me when you doubtlessly get bored of that sad sack boy.” He smiles as if it’s certain. As if he already has your agreement on the subject. Loitering in the nearest arcade shadow near you, ready.

“I’ll be waiting, Birdie.” He whispers filthily into your ear. Too close for comfort.

A zip of danger as you feel hot cigarette breath ghost over the tip of your ear. His chest front brushing yours. Zips and buckles and necklaces. Cold. Makes heart race like hypoxia. You feel drunk and stunned. Scary drunk. And stunned in a nasty stinging way - like you’ve been electrified and can’t move.

You actually feel your heart internally jolt when he puts his mouth to your cheek. Presses a kiss to your cheekbone that you feel sink into your bones like acid.

You jolt. The ride slows to a stop.

You blink back into reckoning, peering around. In amongst the bubbling crowds of teens getting off. Parting around your prone form like water around a rock as you lean on the horse for mercy. You can’t see him. He’s gone. In a snap of leather and seemingly, the blink of an eye. A puff of smoke. Like those old magicians in black and white movies - masking exit in a cloud of silvery sulphur.

You get off the ride and fight your way through the throngs to come out to the boardwalk. The endless ocean before you. Black as spades as the waves lash the shore. Music follows you as you walk along to the food stands.

You kept scanning the crowds. Hoping one face would resemble his. That he’d be walking back to you with that million dollar white smile, and a couple cups of lemonade in his hands. You keep searching.

Nothing.

You get to the food stalls. Spend a lot of time weaving around people, darting tourists and sugar high kids, and hoping to catch sight of him.

Your once buoyant heart begins to sink low in your chest. Clunking down each and every one of your ribs like a bowling ball. Crushing your lungs.

You hang around by the stands, leaning against the railing, feeling the balmy wind and sea air whip your hair around. You keep scanning. Hoping this nasty little voice in your head was wrong. That he’s just lost in the crowds, and he’ll catch up to you eventually.

It’s when the crowds begin to thin out, that the last remainders of your hope does too. Strangled to a silent suffocating death.

You check your watch. They’d be closing the boardwalk gates soon. The neon lights would dim. The only sound left soon will be the papery rattle of those missing flyers where they are pinned.

You walk briskly for your bus stop in heels that are starting to pinch. Your heart the same state as your feet - ragged and sore. You brush away tears with the back of your hand as they fall. You tell yourself it’s the salt in the sea air you can taste. That’s all.

You’d let hope make a home. More fool you.

Eyes, black as a cats, watch your back all the way from the building roof where he hides. Half cloaked in shadow. Lighting up again. Wiping drips of blood from the corner of his mouth.

He smeared his mouth on his leather jacket sleeve before putting the cigarette between his teeth. Chuckling as he pulled smoke in with crimson smeared teeth. Blood rush - singing with bliss and euphoria.

His poor lost baby bird. All on her own.

❤️ Tagging the JQ babes; lmk if you want removing or adding pls ❤️

@indouloureux @trashmouth-richie @atabigail @lunatictardis @waywardrose @hillarymurray4 @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @morganamoonstone @gvtosbith @munsonswhoresposts2 @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @sugarcoated-lame @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @ddejavvu @sharp-and-swift t

[m3r1m4r5u333]

I feel like many people misunderstand us, the unhinged, insufferable people with OTPs so. Here's a quick guide into the mind of an rabid buddie shipper.

I'm not clinging to buddie because I fail to see how awesome Buck's bi growth is. I AM BI!!! You think I don't get how awesome this bi character, this story arc, this bi representation is? Get out. Don't tell me, a bisexual how I should watch and experience a bisexual character. I drive my own brain, thanks.

And I know that it's possible to multi-ship. You don't need to tell me that!!

People need to understand that multi-shipping isn't some grand, epic personality trait that always comes with maturity, that the people who don't multiship are just wee dumb babies.

I may sound like I'm 14. I am not. I am very much not. I'm OLD. So old. And guess what that means? I know myself!!! That's maturity, too. And who I am... Is someone who falls hard, and obsessively.

I know I am just not built to be a multi-shipper. I have tried, sometimes. I have tried so hard. And realised, that's just not me. Multi-shipping is never as fun, and interesting or rewarding to me as focusing on my One True Pair. It just makes me feel suffocated, to attempt to like something I don't really find much joy in.

That doesn't mean that I hate the actors or characters who are "getting in the way" of my ship. Nope. I actually often adore the characters and actors, and the writing. I can also see and appreciate what some other character means for my OTP's growth.

Like in this case... Lou, playing Tommy? Not only do I love his acting choices (so funny, so skilled) but he also, he sounds like a lovely guy. I'm a fan!! Also, damn he's fine, I need a bucket for my drool.

And Tommy, the character...? I think the character is interesting - and don't get me started on "problematic", the shaming is futile. I am all in for fucked up, problematic characters. If you don't get why, you should really read some literary classics. Fucked up, problematic characters are art, they make you think, they broaden world-views. My best educators have been the monsters, and I will take this stand to my grave.

Demand for "unproblematic" is demand for censure, and censure is just another form of oppression. Want characters without flaws? Go watch Teletubbies. Ffs, even moomins have flaws. (Of course they do, Tove Jansson was a freaking amazing writer.)

Anyway. The point here is.

I am a mono-shipper. And I love slowburns, I love the romance of them, I get attached to ships. And I'm queer.

But where are the queer slowburns? I have been waiting for a slow-burn queer romance for so long. I CRAVE IT. Getting that, truly, would be queer history, a revolution.

And I see the potential for it in buddie!! The spark, the history, the journey. It has the potential to be the greatest queer slow-burn I've ever experienced.

You think I'd just abandon a ship like that, a slowburn like that, for some fast food, cooked up in what... Two episodes? Pffft. I invest. I am waiting for my roast to cook.

So yeah. I'm not going anywhere. I will watch, and let my freak flag fly, and I will have the time of my life. If buddie never becomes canon? Well so what. I can deal. It's not my first rodeo. Disappointment isn't actually deathly, you know. Trying to avoid disappointment kills hope, and enthusiasm. So yeah, I refuse to manage my expectations. I'm all in, and enjoying this mad ride.

"Well, I'd still take you."

"You think so?"

"I KNOW."

[purblethinkin]

I need lore on the kappa AU so bad I am BEGGING their designs are so awesome

Hey, thank you for your interest! :) I can blab a little...my basic premise for the AU is that during the initial mutation event when Splinter removed the turtles during their mutation, something went horribly wrong and the boys did not survive. However, from Splinter's overwhelming anger and grief resonating with the Hamato power within their bodies--a miracle was sparked, and their lingering spirits returned as they came back to life in the form of kappas.

Additionally, on a less heavier note--Lou Jitsu in this AU was not an action hero, he was an anti-hero. The boys looked up to and were influenced by this, making them lean less towards being heroes and more towards being villains. Of course, yes, the turtles are a little meaner and more prone to mischief here--but they are not meaner towards each other. They still love and cherish each other just as much.

I also wanted to keep this AU light and a little silly despite the grim premise--hence why I call it kyūri, which translates to "キュ���リ", which means cucumber. (kappas love and are appeased by cucumbers). The turtles act like villains, but they're more like Team Rocket/Deep Cut goofy wannabe villains. Their "dastardly" plans usually end up blowing up in their faces or they end up doing things that turn out nice. :] at the end of the day, they are still good at heart...just a little misguided and prone to mischief because of the inherent nature of kappas and the way they look up to Lou Jitsu.

[catgirlcalling]

I came from your post saying it was a really good episode, and that you loved it. It went against the grain and I feel the same way!

Tommy had all this talk of wanting a family, that the 118 could be his family but he still broke up with Buck because of what seems like this own insecurities. He can’t believe that Buck really wants him to move in, it’s like a shock to the system. When Buck confesses in 7x04 Tommy is surprised, and in 8x06 assumes Buck is going to be the one to break up.

To me, it comes across like he’s going through his own insecurities of “does Buck really love him?” Maybe it’s biphobia, since he’s ‘buck’s first’, or maybe he’s just not as strong as he presents himself to us. I knew Abby would be connecting them and I thought it was great, honestly. Buck was the rebound, don’t get me started Abby’s lowkey creepy behaviour too before they got serious, and as it comes he’s now dating her ex-fiancé.

The amount of teasing they did before this episode makes me hope they fix it. That they resolve it. The interviews made it seem like a bump in the road and not *The End*. I hope they find a way to keep him around even if they’re not together. Lou is an amazing actor and I relate to Tommy so so so much!

However aside I do think the writing of this episode wasn’t particularly good, it felt rushed and had me devastated at the end. I hope he’s not gone, and while I know they probably won’t be end game I can keep dreaming.

I love your positivity and I love your posts I can’t wait to hear more of your opinions!

Thankyou so much! You’re pretty much on the same train of though I am here, as well!

I really, really relate to Tommy and again while I’m projecting I saw what you saw with the insecurities. I also am starting to get the sneaking suspicion that Tommy panicked, cut and ran before he got in too deep because he’s done this before. Abby (and ugh I won’t start on her 😑) is the only past relationship of his that we have confirmed, so there’s potential there for it to be that!

And oh man, Tommy saying he’s not the last guy, the endgame, the forever partner got me so hard in the fucking feels. Because that is 100% why I relate to him. I’m that guy. I’m the guy that gets a fun however long until we go our separate ways and they find their forever human. But I’m still alone. And I’ve personally screwed up several potentially good relationships because of the trauma I have around that- so why can’t Tommy? That’s where my mind goes, and again there’s so many ideas to be had from that as a storyline too.

I really, really don’t think this is the last we will see of Tommy or Lou. Fandom is upset, but the amount of people from the general audience I see commenting criticism on FB and Insta is making me super hopeful (because the GA loved Tommy and that’s how we got him for more eps in the first place!) I was nearly cry laughing at the amount of commenters saying their boomer parents flipped their shit about it! 😂😂😂

My crystal ball is too cloudy to see into the future for realsies, but I rediscovered my love of shouting into the tumblr void thanks to this show, so I’ll stick around and share my ridiculous ideas and try to make people smile for a long while yet. And please feel free to keep sending me your takes too, because yours are really awesome as well. This fandom is pretty darn good, all things considered!🖤🖤🖤

[loulovingho]

I would like to thank BuckTommy and Lou Ferrigno Jr for kickstarting my creative juices and finally getting em to focus for more than 30 minutes in a single original idea for a novel. Dearest Lou Ferrigno Jr, you are now my muse and I will forever be in your debt and will somehow find a way to thank you if I ever become a published author like I’ve always dreamed

I love that you’re writing me this as though I am Lou 😭 👀 🧐

Hmm some secrets must remain such.

(Also, yay!! That’s awesome!!)

[doomandgloomfromthetomb]

"Ferryboat Bill + Sweet Sister Ray" - Mirrors, Cleveland, Ohio, November 14, 1973

A farewell to Jamie Klimek — a Doom & Gloom hero if ever there was one. After all, if Klimek hadn't lugged his tape machine to the La Cave club several times in the late 1960s, we wouldn't have several of the more mysterious and bewitching and awesome Velvet Underground artifacts — "Sweet Sister Ray," Live '68 and beyond. These are the kinds of things that, if recordings didn't exist, would've been just been barely remembered rumors, wisps lost to time. If some aging freak told you about that one night in Cleveland when the Velvets played a beautiful half-hour drone with Lou Reed intoning improvised lyrics about electro-shock therapy ... well, you wouldn't believe it. But you can believe it, thanks to Jamie Klimek.

Klimek, of course, thoroughly and thankfully shook by what he saw and heard at La Cave, went on to form some of the best VU-damaged bands of the time — Mirrors, The Styrenes, Electric Eels, etc. So here's Klimek leading Mirrors through a tune he knew as well (or better!) than the Velvets themselves: "Sweet Sister Ray." And it's presaged by a visit from "Ferryboat Bill"! That's interesting, since that tune doesn't appear on any of the Klimek tapes and I don't think it had emerged on bootleg by this point ... either they're playing it by memory or, somewhere, Jamie had a tape! (An early Peter Laughner band also covered "Bill" ... hmmmm!).

[yes-i-write-fanfiction]

TFA X ROTTMNT crossover imagine Idea:

What if back when Splinter was Lou Jitsu he got spirited away in the TFA universe as a cybertronian thanks to a magical artifact long time ago before the first autobots-decepticons War, became a Gladiator against his will, meet Megatron and end up becoming "Friends" with him, build himself a reputation among Cybertronians and became a Well known History figure After managing to get his Freedom back and managed to get all the other Gladiator, Megatron included, free?

What if years After Lou Jitsu managed to get back to his universe and the ROTTMNT canon happen the turtles found the Magic artifact, end up in the TFA universe turned into cybertronians and two of them are warframes while the other two are civilframe?

I got way into this AU crossover the more I wrote about it and I just want to say that you, my friend, are a genius for coming up with it.

-Lou Jitsu's alter ego when he was a cybertronian was Splinter. Yeah, I'm basic like that. His alt mode would have been either a jet or a race car though I'm a bit partial to him having a car alt mode, simply because I could really see him turning into some flashy 80's sport car.

-Becoming a really popular gladiator not only for his fighting skills but also for bringing in his theatrics to the ring. They don't know that but whenever he wants to seem cool he says a one liner from one of his movies. The crowd ate it up every time. He's also really handsome as a bot so he's got a ton of fans.

-Ok but wouldn't be really cool if Splinter kinda revolutionized the cyber-ninja scene??? Like, up until his appearance it had kinda stagnated but when he shows up and shows up his amazing moves all the cyber-dojos go "YOOOOOO, THAT'S FUCKING AWESOME" and he basically starts the cyber-ninja renaissance. He also probably gets offered to become the leader of his own dojo but he declines the offer because he doesn't wanna abandon his new gladiator-buddies.

-Young Yoketron being his pupil??? Showing up one day like Genos in One Punch man and begging for Splinter to become his master??? YOKETRON YELLING "HOT SOUP" EVEN THOUGH HE HAS NO IDEA WHAT IT MEANS???

Prowl: Master, is it true that you trained under the master Splinter?

Yoketron: Yes, my pupil, I indeed did.

Prowl: Amazing, I've heard so much about him. What was he like?

Yoketron: He was... very wise. *flashback to Splinter forgetting how to use his brakes while in alt mode and crashing into a wall*

-Also, as for the brothers, if two of them are warframes then I imagine it being Raph and Leo. Raph because, well, he's built like a brick, it makes sense, and Leo because his weapons are the most lethal, made to kill. Also, Raph would be a tank while Leo would be a jet. Meanwhile, Donnie's alt mode would be like a microscope/telescope or something while Mikey would be a racer, either a motorcycle or a race car. I just want Mikey to have wheels on his pedes and rollerblade around while fighting.

-I also want some cyber-ninja dojo to 'discover' Mikey's talents, both as a ninja and spiritually, and taking him in. And Mikey can't tell them the truth, that he's already trained, so he has to pretend to be a newbie but instead he comes off as an actual genius, a prodigy only seen once every eon (he is a prodigy though so they're not too far off). Mikey shows them his 'magic hands' and the old coots practically faint.

-Meanwhile, Donnie gets similarly 'discovered' by the autobot Ministry of Science when they take notice of his remarkable intelligence and honestly? Donnie eats up the attention and praise. Perceptor and Wheeljack are fighting over who gets to mentor him and Donnie just does "Gentlemen, please, the answer is obvious; You both teach me everything you know. I want to know it all."

-Splinter, after becoming a mutant, turns into a cybertronian again but he looks really different so no one recognizes him. He's a beast-former now with a rat alt mode, about the height of Bumblebe (maybe even shorter). He kinda radiates this mystical air though, only perceivable to those with more spiritual senses, like Prowl.

Edit: Added some ideas of what Bot-Splinter would look like, both before and after mutating.

[bees-fandom-hive]

hello everybody... I present to you my httyd oc who also turned into a tufflout fankid after I thought about it for 1 second

more info under the cut if you wanna hear me yap !!!!!!

- their name is a big play on words/combo of their parents' names. let me elaborate

"flim" is derivative of "phlegm," so like, relating to snot. based on snotlout's name. ofc they have "nut" in their name to keep the tradition but with two T's since both (t)uffnu(t) and sno(t)lou(t) have two in their names (I imagine they spent way too much time perfectly calculating this...).

- they were the kid who'd been at the orphanage the longest for being absolutely insanely feral that nobody picked them. yes, even by VIKING standards. as soon as tufflout saw them they were like "yeah we want that one" like picking out a puppy from the shelter lmao

- they also have a timberjack called skyscorcher. yes I know the dragons went to the hidden world WHATEVER canon compliance is not of my concern I'm making a fankid after all

- they sort of act like a dog sometimes.

thank you if you read all of this you're a real one. also their last name is "thorgenson." they combined their last names to make a super awesome one.

[rufflekerfuffle]

Open to read my misfits and magic takes

I cannot believe K killed Evan but also I can cause they go too far trying to “fix” him constantly without really seeing how that might affect him.

Like Evan’s gotta feel a little weird about how concerned Sam is for him and how Jammer has been so so gentle with him and then K attempting to fix him since they met up at the islands.

It just feels like they care so much and want him to be better in a way they can help. Which is sweet and what you do when the people you love are hurt - but Evan knows he is the odd one out again. The one that people have to be concerned about, the one that needs extra attention. Sometimes I feel like you need that when you’ve been hurt and gone through awful things but other times you just want to be treated normal.

I feel like maybe Jammer is the only one who does that for Evan but Jammer’s the one who took the biggest step away from magic and therefore Evan. So he never really had a place or felt like he could be anywhere without troubles arising, and the group of friends that did help him left. The guy he could be a normal guy around went back to America. K doesn’t seem to really talk to him at all since they stopped dating. And Sam is very concerned for him every time he talks about his life. Seems like when I try to talk about experiences I had growing up and everyone stops and goes “are you okay?! That is not normal!” Which I can tell you it doesn’t feel good to have that happen every time you talk about yourself!

I’m relating Evan a little too hard to my own abuse survivor/mental health journey probably lol but he’s a fictional character so I think I’m allowed to do that.

Lou and Danelle are awesome actors I was crying when they were realizing Evan died and doing anything to get him back. Also Erika played shocked really well. Thanks to Brennan and Aabria for making this character and putting him in situations. I love dimension 20 and misfits and magic.

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep8 Musings - The Ep8 Script (Pt1)

Thanks to slitwrstsavior sharing the script and @memorian for digitizing it! <3

Imma have to do this in chunks, cuz of Tumblr's 30-pic limit.

SHADE.

AMC. I'm finna smack y'all. I NEED those alternate outtakes! 😭🙏

😳 JACOOOOOOB! 😱

SIR ANDERSONNNNNNNNN~!!!!

You ain't have to commit to the bit like THAT! They said suck the BLOOD DROP on the FLOOR, not the effing ROCKS themselves! XD Your improvs are IMMACULATELY UNHINGED! 😍

This is VERY cool & interesting!

HH's OCD mirrors Lou's mad ravings during his PTSD unhinged Revenge Plot, but it's also really cool that he was from vinatge Hollywood, contemporaneous with Louis' film noir aesthetic in 2x7, AND HH's association with aviation, and Lou's dream learning to fly (a plane)--perhaps in honor of Claudia mad that Les wouldn't teach her to fly (with the Cloud Gift? 😭💔) NO ONE EFFING TOUCH ME!

Ahhhhhh~! They're his triggers; AND his reset-buttons. U_U

He was finna KIIIIIIILLLLLL Lestat, IKR!? XD

I love how the use of ellipses can stand for either interruptions (Louis shushing him) or deliberate pauses (Armand actively tryna think of a lie).

Rolin's goofy arse. XD He really meant it when he said he wanted Dan's music to come in clutch.

Can't help but notice that it's SILENT during this part though. The "tense" film noir music only starts AFTER Louis' finished speaking. Which I think was a better choice. Let Louis' words sink in--HIS voice is the only one that should matter. THEN let the music come in. 👌

I EFFING KNEW THAT WAS HER ASHES OMG!? That ain't LIPSTICK!

I'm STILL MAD we didn't effing SEE the ear/jaw. But thank you for the movie nod from Akasha's BAMF exit.

Ahhh, that answers my question about if Louis was still using the Fire Gift from halfway across Paris--that is AWESOME, wow!

[EDIT] Forgot to add this in, cuz AMC!Lou's officially OP:

EXCUSE YOU!? Since when did Santiago know Armand's birthname!?

So either: Armand told Santiago his backstory, OR Santiago stole it from his mind (highly unlikely), OR he eavesdropped Loumand. SNAKE!

There's a typo--it should say "They are there to...." Which they took out anyway, and good riddance; Lou immediately cuts him off, cuz ain't nobody tryna hear your effing excuses, a-hole.

I DO wanna hear what he would've said though--pour some more Kool-aid down everyone's throats whydontcha!? "I knew the wisdom of the Great Laws," as if! I NEED to know what REALLY went down with the coven in S3--Imma make a separate post, cuz I have so many questions, that this Ep8 script unfortunately is NOT answering.

SUFFER, bish.

Imma cut off right here, and make a separate post.

[louferrignojrofficial]

Hi! I'm newly learning gifmaking. And I was wondering what are you using for screencapping?

I have a PC, and I used Potplayer. But do you have a better suggestion?

Maybe I'm using it wrong, but it requires me to type a number of screencaps before taking them. (I read you say you took screencaps of the whole scene at once)

Anyway, thanks for all the awesome Bucktommy content (sorry Lou, I can't bring myself to use another name)

i have a dell laptop and i use photoshop to make the gifs, and kmplayer to take the screencaps. i have potplayer too but it was too confusing for me and the colours looked better on kmplayer so i use that instead.

and yeah you need to choose the number of screencaps to take, i just chose 2k because i knew it was a long scene and i took a guess as to how many it would take to get it all. on a normal gif, depending on the size, there would be about 50-100, mostly leaning towards around 50-60. so let’s say i was talking about this gif:

i set the number of frames to 100 and then because of the size of my gif and the shot i wanted for the set, i had to cut it to around 40 when i had the screencaps in photoshop.

these are my settings for screencapping with kmplayer:

(this isn’t relevant to the gif i chose, it just happened to be the first place i clicked to) so to get this popup, i right click, choose capture and then advanced capture, then choose how many frames i want to capture. the last gif i made i apparently had 102.

and then when you get them all, if you have photoshop, then go to file -> scripts -> load files into stack -> whatever folder the screencaps went to.

[oleander-nin]

Heyy.!

I'd like to request a little sister turtle reader.! If you have seen @buggy-cj, I have requested a little sister reader from her.! And she did an awesome job, and I've just read and seen most of your posts. And WOW.! People know how to create masterpieces, really-

Little sister is 12, and has a dark green mask. And unlike her brothers, she doesn't have any markings on her body. She's just a regular pond turtle. So she feels really insecure from being different from her family. Since she's the only girl, and she isn't very special in her opinion.

Thank you for reading this.!!

A/N, not important: Sorry this took so long, I struggled pretty badly with it :/. ASLO, I'm going to be gone for the next week, and will be unable to look at tumblr from Sunday, May 28th, to Thursday, June 1st. You can still talk to me all you want, but please be patient when waiting for my response. This is my last request I needed to get done with before I could start working on the 100/200 follower special. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: crying, reader being kind of cold to their siblings, feelings of self-doubt and inferiority, my writing

Words: 1623

Summary: Your confidence was shot, and the self-loathing was seeping in. Sometimes, all you need is a hug from your father to get it all to spill out.

Curled up against the corner of the subway cart where my bed sat, I read my book, headphones on but no music playing. My eyes run over the same lines over and over, my brain not processing the words. I groan, flitting back a page so I could understand what was going on, trying to ignore the turbulence of my emotions, just as I was ignoring my brothers. I wipe my eyes again as another tear escapes my hold, holding my breath until the uncertainty and sorrow slips back down my throat. I take a deep breath, glancing at the mirror Mikey helped hang on my wall, making sure there wasn’t any sign of my tears.

A knock at the metal walls of my room startles me, my book slamming shut in my hands. I flip through the pages with gritted teeth, trying desperately to find my page. I glance up at Leo as he enters, his hands on his hips as he smiles down at me. “Ah, sorry. Did I scare you?” Leo’s voice floods my ears, his presence bringing up the feelings of inferiority I was trying to shove down.

I grumble a bit, marking my page before setting my book down, glaring at my older brother in annoyance. Leo just grins at me, his teeth showing as he laughs slightly. Leo starts to pull me by my arm, trying to drag me off my bed. “C’mon, Mikey made dinner. He wants everyone at the dinner table, pronto!”

I groan but slide off the bed, grabbing my green mask and tying it on before letting Leo drag me towards the kitchen. We both hurry to the kitchen, sliding into the chairs right as Mikey sets a big pot of stew on the table. I silently thank him, nodding my head as we all start to serve ourselves, Raph and Donnie having already been seated. I eat my food, mindlessly listening to the conversation flowing around me, only giving input when specifically prompted. I tried to ignore the way Raph stared, the concern in his eyes growing. I pretended to not notice the side glances Donnie and Leo gave me at my non-committal answers. I avoided Mikey’s worried eyes.

I silently chew at the chunks in my stew, staring intently at the grain of the table, as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Raph clears his throat, trying to get my attention. I ignore him. 

“(Y/n),” Raph starts, his voice low, care and sympathy mixed with agitation. All other conversation goes silent, everyone staring at Raph and I. I glance up at Raph, but don’t respond. He sighs, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Are you okay? I can’t help but notice you’ve been… Distant, lately. Raph’s worried. We’re all worried.”

I pick my head up, bringing my spoon to my mouth and loudly slurping the contents of the stew. Raph’s eye twitches as his chasm deepens.

“He’s not kidding, (Y/n). We’ve all noticed your… Lack of energy. We just want to know what’s going on.” Mikey chimes in, stirring his bowl of stew absent-mindedly. Leo and Donnie nod, agreeing with what Mikey said.

Leo shifts in his seat, leaning in close to me and slinging his arm around my shoulder. He tugs me closer, a sad smile on my face as he noogies the top of my head. I huff, pushing him off and fixing my mask after he knocked it crooked. Leo smiles softly, patting my head before I could pull back. “You know you can talk to us, right? We’re your older brothers, not your enemies. We can tell something’s wrong.”

They all look at me expectantly, as if they thought their words would magically get me to spill everything out. I take another bite of my food, chewing obnoxiously long. Raph’s eyebrow muscles furrow, his mouth opening as if he was about to say something, but I cut him off. “I though this was dinner, not an interrogation.”

Raph glares at me as I continue to eat my dinner, picking my bowl up and drinking the rest down. I felt bad, guilt starting to swirl in with the rest of the misery and feelings of inadequacy. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand when I finish my stew, standing up and punishing the chair back with the back of my legs. “I’m going back to my room. Have fun.”

“We’re going on a patrol, actually.” Donnie corrects, scrolling through his phone. I look at him, frowning.

“Not going. Have fun.” I say, dropping my bowl off in the sink and starting to wash it out. Leo stands up as Raph sputters, Leo patting Raph on the shoulder and whispering something to him before joining me at the sink with his own bowl. He nudges me to the side, taking over the sink and washes the bowls out before silently handing them to me to dry.

“Why don’t you want to go?”

I look at Leo, drying the bowls with the towel before setting them on the counter. I shrug, not sure what to say. Leo hands me the next bowl, turning around and leaning against the counter. 

“You know you can trust us with anything, right? We’re not going to get mad if you’re upset, or if  something’s wrong. We just want to help you.” We both ignored the hushed arguing coming from the table.

I look away from Leo, putting the bowls back away. Leo lets out a breath, patting me on the back. “You don’t have to go. I’ll talk to the others.” He says quietly, letting me escape to my room. I smile gratefully at Leo before slipping out of the kitchen, the others too busy arguing to notice my escape.

As Leo promised, I was able to stay in my room, the sound of the four older turtles leaving the lair reverberates across the concrete walls. I curl up against the corner of the wall where my bed sat once more, trying to get through my book despite the thoughts racing through my head. I shift on my bed, frustrated. I through my book across my room, curling my knees to my chest as I bury my face into them, sniffling slightly. Everything I had said at dinner, being that crass towards my brothers who only wanted to help, to know what was wrong. It all just added to the mountain of emotion building upon my shoulders.

I rip my mask off, throwing it to the floor as well, tears leaking from my eyes faster then I could wipe them away. I jump slightly when I feel a hand on my shoulder, a small pressure from weight. I wipe my eyes, looking up to see the face of my father, his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

“What is wrong, Green?” He asks softly, moving to sit on my bed. I skooch over, still siting with my knees to my chest and my arms crossed over them. I look at my dad before looking back at my covers, wiping my eyes on the rough, scaly skin of my shoulder. “Why aren’t you with your brothers? Blue told me something was wrong.”

My bottom lip quivers slightly and I look away, not meeting my fathers gaze out of embarrassment. It takes all but one glance at Splinter’s worrisome expression before I start spilling my heart out. All the feelings doubt, self-loathing, and every insecurity I felt came tumbling out of my mouth before I could stop, my father sitting next to me as he silently listened.

Splinter nods, his arms reaching out for me, hesitating for a moment before pulling me into a hug. He rubs my shell as I cry, whispering soft words of encouragement to me. 

We sit there for what feels like hours, Splinter only holding me tightly in comfort. It was clear he was not sure what to do, and I couldn’t help but feel grateful for how hard he was trying. Once the tears end and devolve into nothing more than small hiccups, my father speaks. “Thank you for telling me this. I- Your brothers are worried, and if you’re okay with it, I think they should know as well. You are not a burden to them, (Y/n). I promise you that.”

I let out a wet scoff, my throat still swollen with tears. “Everyone else is special though. Their powers work, and- and I don’t even have markings! I’m not special, or as strong, or as fast. I can’t do everything they can.”

“Raph doesn’t have marking either.” Splinter says softly. “And Leo struggled with his teleportation for years. You’ll get better with time, you just have to work on it. I’m sure your brothers would be delighted to help. Raph especially, if you want to train.”

I nod, frowning slightly. Splinter stays quiet, not sure how else to help. He continues to rub my back, being a silent rock to hold me steady in my storm. My head perks up and Splinter’s ear twitches when we hear a intelligible shouting and laughter coming near the entrance of the lair, signaling the return of the other turtles. Splinter looks at me, silently asking my permission to talk with them. I nod again, too choked with tears I was determined to hold back to talk.

Splinter picks my mask back off the floor, wiping the wet trails from my face before carefully tying it over my eyes. He holds my chin, rubbing my cheek softly as he tries to soothe me. I lean into his palm, appreciating how hard my father was trying. “Let’s go talk to your brothers.”