#unspeakably grateful for all y'all

[unbidden-yidden-deactivated20240]

You know when this all started coming to light, I fully expected that leftists would try to downplay the horrific violence by acknowledging that it was "bad and our hearts go out to the victims and their families, but......" or by making a sharp distinction between civilians and soldiers (or even like, minors and adults), but the thing that's fucked me up is that nope! We sailed right past any attempt to even pretend at human decency and cut straight to "they deserved it."

Even the kids?? Yep, even the kids.

Like Jesus H. Christ y'all.

I'm used to people feeling like they need to at least gesture vaguely in the direction of giving a shit about Jewish lives and not justifying actual terror tactics and war crimes on civilians (you'd think for consistency's sake they might care about looking like they care for the credibility but..) even if we both know they really don't actually care about antisemitism in a meaningful way. We both know that they won't be there when it actually counts, and they sure as fuck aren't going to interrogate their own personal or group's antisemitism. But usually there's a fig leaf. There's at least a baseline assumption that they should care about antisemitism and Jewish people staying alive, even if they don't actually, so they'll say the minimum amount of correct sounding words and then quickly skedaddle onto whatever it is they actually care about.

And like, is that good? No, it's not. It's not good enough. I'm sick and fucking tired of people doing juuuuuust enough to pretend to care without ever addressing the real underlying issues.

But this? This totally floored me. This drops that baseline assumption that antisemitism and murdered Jews is a bad thing entirely and blatantly sides with literal actual terrorists committing unspeakable horrors while holding it up as "liberation."

And what's worse? Most of those were the further out fringe types (although there were a horrifying amount more than I expected) right? Most everyone else wasn't spouting off about how happy they were that vive la révolucion, right? You know what was really deafening?

The silence from everyone else.

Literally everyone except for maybe one or two gentiles I remember seeing kept their mouths shut. Everyone else? Not a goddamn word about how fucked up it was that people were crowing over our people's fresh corpses. The bodies hadn't even cooled yet and we had jackasses on here publicly celebrating with memes and gore videos, and not a word from 99.9% of you.

The people who did speak up? You have no idea how much it means, and I'm grateful. Truly.

Everyone else who was too gutless, spineless, or oblivious to realize how critical a moment this was for support and/or was more interested in protecting your image or whatever?

Let's just say: duly noted.

I may continue to work alongside you (what choice do I have?) but the trust is gone.

We're clearly on our own, with rare exception.

(This is a vent post I will not be adding any caveats to it and I will be blocking anyone who tries to be an asshole. I will lock reblogs if there's any discourse. Our lives are not up for debate you sick fucks.)

[cerealforkart]

Closing Manga Thoughts

I just deleted a long vent post about every single one of my feelings about the end of the podcast and the manga being over. Except not really over because it looks like there's a lot more interest in a physical edition than I was expecting. Hopefully I'll see y'all in the preorders in a couple weeks once I figure out how expensive this will be to make and from there how much I want to charge.

Anyways. Please humour me for a quick moment while I make a big deal out of my thing because it might look like sixteen goofy little drawings in boxes every other week, but it's been a really big deal for me over the last year and a half. I've decided all I really want to say about the end of the manga is thank you for being a fandom I was comfortable sharing something like this with. When I first got into DnDads I had never shared fanart anywhere and I had been fallen off the creative train for a while. So thank you for being here, for engaging with the manga because without that engagement I wouldn't have bothered to see this through to the end. Thank you for allowing me to foster an interest in making comics.

I feel really peaceful now that it's over. It's hard to explain, but I was always very anxious about if people would still be interested in the next pages, if I was wasting my time, if I had phoned it in and should have tried harder. But now that it's over, now that it's complete, and I'm proud of every single page, even the ones I was kind of lazy with, I'm just very content and grateful that I was able to share this very special project, and I don't care so much about if they'll be looked back on fondly, or laughed at, or ignored anymore. It's done, and I'm happy.

Now that the manga is over, if you're ever wondering what I'm going to be doing next, I'll still be here. I have more DnDads ideas, some comics that will escape the four panel format I've been locked into for so long, and I draw One Piece stuff too sometimes, and that won't be going anywhere for a while still haha. I also have an original fantasy comic about a magic that kills you that just entered it's third chapter and you can check it out starting here on Tumblr, or on it's own website here. And if you ever want to request art from me or just support me financially, I have a ko-fi, I take requests for the low price of literally any money.

Once more, thank you. This project has been so special to me, and I'm so unspeakably grateful that it was this fandom I was able to share it with, I don't think it would have lasted, or even started anywhere else, for anything else.

[sofoulandfairaday]

Lupin hc I’m begging!

Okay, so.

I hate Fanon Moony with a passion. So before I even say anything here are some Remus Lupin posts so we're on the same level with his characterization: 1) the best marauder characterization post, 2) canon Remus, 3) CANON Remus p.2

Good? Great.

Loving parents. Was absolutely the apple of both his parents' eyes; they loved him immensely and would have given him the world. The guilt Lyall felt over Greyback's attack was unspeakable and he did everything in his power to make Remus' life as comfortable as possible. Overprotective. Overbearing even, but always for his own good. They tried to protect him and comfort him with all that they had.

There were definitely incidents when Remus was a kid. Not only were his transformations extremely painful when he was a child but they were also hard to manage. Lyall and Hope did try their best but it broke their hearts to see him hurt & it was very difficult for them to deal with young Remus' injuries. They couldn't take him to a Muggle doctor after all and

The stigma towards werewolves in the Wizarding World is huge. There aren't enough stories that deal with what it's like to be one. If you're looking for a good read that integrates (not so) small details of the thousand small obstacles that being a werewolf poses while integrating them in an overarching (marvellous) plot, read Moonlit Marriage by @celestemagnoliathewriter (Remadora).

Constantly worrying about money.

He didn't even grow up poor, that's the thing. He grew up fairly decently (his parents weren't rich by any means but they had enough to stay afloat). However, they had almost no savings and when they died (First Wizarding War period) he was left with nothing. Being a werewolf also meant that he couldn't hold down a job.

So many insecurities. So many. About his appearance, his magical talent, his place in the wizarding world, himself.

Speaking of. Not a Greek god. Not a smooth-talking seven-foot-tall Casanova type. He was shorter than both Sirius and James, thin, covered in scars. Kind face.

Awkward. Might have even had a little stutter as a child.

Kind. Helpful. Grateful. Glad and still a little incredulous, after years, that James (& SIrius) might have picked him to be their friend.

The day James&Co announced they had become Animagi so that they could be with him was the best day of his life. Running with his friends under the moonlight is still the memory that first comes to mind when he's trying to cast a Patronus.

Disliked Sirius and James' mistreatment of Snape to a certain degree, but never enough to say anything, never enough to try and stop them (I doubt they would have, even for him).

Like the other Marauders, he adored James.

Sorry to break it to you, but Sirius and Remus were friends through James. They became extremely close only after Azkaban when they were all the other had left from the happiest time of their lives.

Could not grow a whole beard for the life of him.

The ultimate people-pleaser.

Polite.

The definition of passive-aggressive. (Y'all make him plain aggressive.)

An introvert.

A sub if I ever saw one.

Kind. Did I say kind? Maybe he didn't do enough for the victims of the Marauders' bullying because he definitely didn't have the balls to stand up to James & Sirius (and we clearly see this in SWM), but he would be helpful to any and all younger students who needed him.

Lily's study buddy, especially the last years. Remus was like her: good in school, but not as naturally gifted as Sirius and James. He wouldn't be the type to do well even without studying and he definitely had much better grades in his written tests than in practical classes.

This, combined with the fact that he was a massive bookworm meant he had a Hermione-like encyclopaedic knowledge of various subjects.

Unlike Lily, not the best at Potions (he says so himself in PoA)

Loved Care of Magical Creatures, they were always his area of interest as we see in PoA. Also (unrelated), something I've always asked myself: is there any curriculum at all for Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts? Every teacher just seems to teach whatever they like/enjoy more or their particular area of interest. I would have really liked to know what Lupin taught sixth and seventh years for example.

Tea over coffee for Remus (he's a bit of a tea snob, and drinks industrial quantities of the thing)

Not a big alcohol drinker - he doesn't like how it makes him lose control, and has never drunk alone without the Marauders in his youth. However, when times were tough after October 1981 he did indulge too much in it.

I can see him smoking a little bit of weed, not even for the feeling itself but because it helps him with some of his chronic pain.

Sweater vests and old comfy jumpers

If the Marauders had a Feminist king TM (WHICH THEY DIDN'T) it would have been him.

The Prank soured his relationship with Sirius exponentially. It was one of the reasons he thought Sirius was the spy. Everyone was paranoid at the time, questioning friends and allies left and right, but after spending seven years sleeping, eating, living alongside meek, shy, snivelling Peter Pettigrew, he could not picture him as a Death Eater.

The truth is that Sirius, for reasons we've already said, would have made Remus into a murderer. He would have killed Snape. One of their classmates, and when Remus was at his lowest too. It was such a huge betrayal of trust that their relationship fundamentally shifted forever.

He did not love his lycanthropy, would not wear it proudly. He was scared of himself in those moments, and extremely full of self-loathing. If they discovered a Cure tomorrow, he would take it without thinking twice.

[kithtaehyung]

okay okay okay… deep breaths. yoongi fucking ate this shit. i am an honest enough person to say for once i’m down for him over oc. though yoongi was the one having that feral moment at the beginning in those chairs so maybe they’re even. okay bro ruining oc working her magic is rude. but the scotch choice is a mood cause it’s delicious and expensive so at least bro has taste. the entire list of warnings was warranted and there were so many moments where i actively paused to process. i very nearly died when yoongj said that he was mad at himself for not showing her well enough, l. o. v. e. also everyone freaking about taes comment at the end but nobody asking if tae and jimin just listened orrrrrr 😏 cause yeah no way im sitting still if i’m them. my mind has two very different visions of yoongi’s reaction when he finds out they heard. i too am extremely grateful for all that you do for us. your writing is amazing and your hard work shines through in every single sentence. thank you. again.

-🦊

AHAHA FOX YESS yoongi.... yoongi went in here lmfaooo i wanted to fight him and do the unspeakable at the same damn time. but the armchair scene?? yeah put me in the room!! i neeeed this LOL

i loved bro in this one so much. cockblocking in the wORST way without even realizing and having superb taste in scotch? yes please. and vmin listening in or not.... i'll let y'all decide before spilling all the much anticipated tea HAHA

i told y'all omfg when i was writing all the warnings i was like,, staring at them like w t f everyone is gonna wonder what the hell is gonna go down sdhfiklsjd but so worth it. it was fun as hell to write!! thank you so much for the kind words and for appreciating the work<33 it means the world that you enjoyed this part!

[psylockexs]

What's going on...?

Morgyn opened his eyes to a familiar voice. Mikhail? No, it was too soft to be him. But...wasn't that Mikhail standing with someone else? What was going on? Morgyn's head was spinning. It was almost as if he was waking up from an unspeakable hangover, and the grating voice of annoyance wasn't helping either.

Lore: You're finally awake, sunshine 🤨...

Morg: Nnngh...Lorelei....? What...looks around, then almost jumps out of his skin Where am I?! Why am I in bed like this?!

Lore: Yeah, about that. You're in my bed, that I apportioned for myself.

Morg: How did I get in here?!

Lore: Maybe because I found you on the verge of death outside my room while I was deep in my sleep 🤨.

Morg: What the hell do you mean?!

Morgyn stood up, with a lot of effort, and looked from Lorelei to Mikhail. Mik had a very sour expression on his face, almost certain because someone grilled him 😬.

Mik: I wouldn't say on death's door, unless you're talking about yourself, Lore 🤨...

Lore: Oh we definitely are. And the fact that I heard from a little birdie that you two were at each other's throats last night. What's that about, huh?

Morg: What?! Everyone was asleep by then! Who could have possibly heard us?!

Mik: Or maybe if you didn't try to dredge up shit from a whole month ago, you wouldn't have to be watching your back!

Lore: A month ago? Is there something I should know about?

Morg: He barged into my place while I was sleeping then tore my wards down. Left me with the same stomping headache I have now.

Mik: And maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't have needed to disturb your beauty sleep if you didn't go rounding supers up like they were fucking sheep!

Lorelei couldn't believe what she was seeing. Two goddamn grown men, arguing like little boys in the headmaster's office. An old grandpa and a magic  Sage  of all things arguing over something petty 🫢.

'Grrrrrrr.... WILL YOU BOTH SHUT UP??!!!'

The disembodied voice shook Morgyn to his core. He'd never flinched so much in his life before. Even Mikhail had to swallow his bruised ego. Neither of them could look Lorelei in the eye after that pathetic show.

Lore: Out of everything you chose to argue about, you pick some shit that happened a month ago! A MONTH! ARE YOU SERIOUSLY KIDDING ME? I BRING Y'ALL OUT HERE TO HELP ME WITH SOMETHING LIFE CHANGING AND YOU ARGUE LIKE LITTLE BOYS IN THE PLAYGROUND! 😡

Morg: 😨In my defense, he started it-

Lore: I DON'T GIVE A FUCK WHO STARTED WHAT!!!! If it's that important for you to hash out, you can hash it out in the crypts.

Mik: Oh come on, now!

Lore: My word is law, Mikhail. You two will take care of each other in the crypt. And if you kill each other before bringing back anything tangible, I'll resurrect you, take the shit and then kill you again. Go.

They hesitate...

Lore: What? I got something on my ass? MAKE YOURSELVES SCARCE! Tsk walks away in a huff

Said birdie was fortunate Lorelei walked right past him. He was not expecting that...

The tension was so thick in the air, to say one could cut it with a knife would not do the situation justice. The knife would blunt and snap in half!

Mik: stares daggers at him

Morg: What? It's your fault I keep having nightmares, anyway. Don't know why you're glaring at me.

Mik: If you don't want to feel excruciating pain this early in the day, get a move on and come with me. And find something warm. I doubt your skinny ass will be able to stomach the cold.

Morg: sighs heavily You're the boss...

The tell tale winter colors had been making themselves known in Ravenwood, and it was just the boys' luck that it had been snowing heavily all night. No telling what the crypts hold for them... 😬

Narrator's talk:

Now! Does most of this seem haphazard? Yes it does. But why?! True. Why? What's gotten into Morgyn and Mikhail? They certainly weren't arguing like this before, regardless of their bumpy meeting.

Well then...hope you have enough popcorn to last... 🫢

[mego42]

Happy Birthdaaaaaaaaaay!!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉Hope you do something fun today like eat cake and make people do things for you cause YOU DESERVE 🥰🥰🥰💖💖💖

[princessnijireiki]

I make fun of people for having wack taste in "sexy" accents & have done my whole life, especially when it's just people getting off to their own classism, racism, fetishization, and/or anglo- or francophilias…

but honestly, irish accents do sound really cool. like they're just fun to listen to. negl.

[incorrect-bkdk-quotes]

ok y'all will one day learn not to encourage me, but hopefully not today

warning: major character death, canon typical depictions of violence, hurt no comfort (but it's a nice reflective kinda sad ok-)

Keep Your Eyes On Me

a.k.a Five times Kacchan insisted on being the focus of Izuku's world. (And the one time he didn't)

Plumes of smoke hung in the air above them, as if shielding them from the screams that rang in the distance. Here, in this little pocket between two crumbling worlds, Heroes Deku and Ground Zero are completely alone. The silence is only broken by Katsuki's ragged breaths and Deku's choking sobs.

"Kacchan."

Deku is staring down at Katsuki. At his clenched jaw and heaving chest. At the beads of sweat that mingle with blood as the track down his proud brow. At his fierce red eyes hidden in heavy half lidded shadows, pain etched into the twisted lines of his face.

At the godawful rod sticking out of his stomach, slick with hot blood.

“Kacchan” he whispers and it's the same prayer that has dropped from countless feverent lips and breaking hearts over centuries. Deku has never thought of Kacchan's death before today. Not really.

It's impractical, he knows. They are society's first line of defence, standing shoulder to shoulder against all sorts of unspeakable evils. The odds are not in their favour.

But they're all of twenty-three, young and blazing ever onward, and Kacchan has always burned the brightest of them all. There has never been a shadow of doubt in Izuku's heart that Bakugou Katsuki will overcome. Always. He's not the sort to bow before the odds.

But in not bowing, there is the terrifying risk of breaking.

They should really have discussed this. They should have done so many things. The rings on their fingers haven't even seen a whole turn of the seasons.

“... deku..” Kacchan's voice is grating, it's catching on the blood filling his throat, “ Deku-”

His eyes widen unseeing, searching for the man grasping his face, terrified tears spilling onto Katsuki's own cheeks. “I'm here I'm here Kacchan you're going to be fine”

Katsuki latches onto his voice like a lifeline, “Deku...”

Izuku is crying as he tenderly runs his trembling fingers through Katsuki's sweat-slicked hair. “Help is coming Kacchan it's coming Stay with me, please please stay”

Katsuki's eyes clear fractionally, “Deku...” he focuses on the shining emerald eyes he's spent his entire life running away from, and then toward and then finally, finally side by side with, “.. keep your eyes–” violent coughs rack his body, blood spraying down Izuku's chest as he clutches his kacchan tighter.

Izuku's heard those words a hundred times before.

~~~

“Keep your eyes on me you dweeb.”

Two best friends running in the forest, a young Izuku distracted momentarily by shimmering gossamer butterfly wings, almost runs into a tree and is yanked none so gently out of th way by a scowling Kacchan, “Keep your eyes on me you dweeb.” Izuku only smiles and complies.

Young bright rivals at the third year sports festival, Izuku scanning the arena till he finds flashing red eyes and a confident smirk. They're across the ground but that doesn't stop Kacchan from yelling, “Keep your eyes on me you dweeb” Izuku rolls his eyes at him.

Izuku is a rookie, only in his first year as a sidekick and this mission is going very wrong very quickly, and he's starting to panic. A sharp nudge from his boyfriend makes his head turn. Katsuki flashes him a cocksure grin that makes his knees go a little weak and whispers “Keep your eyes on me you dweeb.” Izuku is a lot less worried all of a sudden.

Izuku is very young, only twenty one when the world bids goodbye to their old Symbol of Peace. It's a simple death. Kind, like he deserved. Surrounded by the people he loves the most. Izuku holds his hand through it. He does not cry at All Might's funeral. Standing here, giving his eulogy at Yagi Toshinori's funeral though, he can hardly speak through his sobs. The ash blond hair and fire bright eyes of his fiancee in the front row catch his eyes. He can follow what Kacchan is signing to him “Keep your eyes on me you dweeb.” Izuku delivers the entirety of his eulogy and walks off the stage on wobbling knees.

They get married at twenty two, and it's the happiest Izuku has ever been. Inko walks him down the aisle, she's always been everything he's ever needed in a parent. Part of him aches for All Might.

He's very quickly distracted by the soft symphony and the flowers arching though, but mainly by the stunning figure at the altar. Kacchan is a vision in white. Proud and Strong, Dazzling in his Joy. Izuku can't breathe. His mother tugs uselessly at his sleeve. People are turning in their seats. Izuku's feet won't move. Katsuki tilts his head at him and grins, he's mouthing “Keep your eyes on me you dweeb.” Izuku does. He always has.

~~~

Katsuki gasps for air and Deku holds him closer. Katsuki's fingers wrap around Deku's wrist and the touch feels like goodbye.

“Keep you're eyes s-straight ahead Deku.”

[goodlucktai]

If the Creek Don’t Rise (3/3)

‘verse: Mostly IDW, some elements of 2k12

Pairings: Rasey, Woody/Mikey, Ramona (past)—and a few more may be implied down the road, we’ll see brief mentions of Leosagi.

Summary: In which Raphael and Michelangelo are UCLA students and bring some friends home to South Dakota for Thanksgiving, where Donatello plays matchmaker, Casey becomes a horticulture enthusiast, Woody has great taste in art, and Raphael fakes an engagement.

Notes: This is an AU I started writing for @tmntflashfic’s first theme ‘beginnings.’ It’s very loosely based off the old Pauly Shore movie “Son in Law,” and I’ll thank y'all not to judge me for that. <3 This AU is not to be taken seriously, so please don’t take it too seriously. It got longer than I anticipated, so I cut it into three parts.

Titled after something my nana always says, “If the lord’s willing and the creek don’t rise,” which just means that as long as nothing unexpected happens, everything will go to plan.

THE FINAL PART IS FINALLY HERE

(Story tag)

Raphael was one-hundred and fifty percent certain his life was over.

His brothers kept throwing him bewildered looks, staring between him and Casey as though trying to form a connection that wasn't there. Going over what they knew in a new light, and drawing lines between every interaction they had seen so far and the bombshell Casey dropped on essentially the entire town, and wrapping their minds around the idea of Raph and Casey actually being Raph And Casey.

“I need some air,” Raph said abruptly over Leo's fourth attempt to draw him into conversation, standing up so sharply that he bashed his knee into the tabletop and rattled the glassware. “Shi – shoot. Sorry. Jones, you wanna come with me? For some air?”

“Dude, the food’ll be here soon.”

Raph's murderous intent probably showed on his face, because Mikey stood up a second later. “I'll go with you guys.”

“Oh, god, please don't leave me here,” Woody said very quietly, scrambling out of his chair to follow them.

Which is how Raph found himself pacing the parking in the warm country night air, hands folded into tight fists at his side. Woody and Mikey were sharing a cement parking block, sitting with their knees folded up by their chins and watching Raph's back-and-forth march with solemn eyes. Casey was leaned against the wall without a care in the world, and it made Raph want to grab him by the shirt and shake him.

“That was your move?” he bit out. “Faking an engagement? Jesus Christ, Jones!”

“Hey, I didn't see any of you comin' up with any brilliant ideas,” he shot back with a scowl. “And it ain't like I had days to think it over!”

“C'mon, Raphie, it's not Casey's fault,” Mikey interjected before Raph could give voice to any one of numerous scathing retorts. He looked pale and worried for him, face a wash of tired yellow from the buzzing streetlight overhead. “We were all pretty much put on the spot back there. At least the thing with Lisa is taken care of.”

“Okay, but this is – ”

“A lot better,” Woody said calmly. When Raph cut a glance at him, he added, “You're in complete control of the situation now. When we get back to your place, we'll explain the whole thing. Just play it cool through dinner, alright?”

“Yeah!” Mikey piped up, looking exhaustively relieved. He tilted a shining look Woody's way. “There's nothing to worry about, bro, we'll sort this out first thing once we're home.”

Except that the first thing that happened once they got home was Leo, successfully cornering Raph alone on the back porch. Woody shot him a sympathetic glance over Leo's shoulder but ultimately abandoned him to his older brother's mercies in favor of following Mikey around like a second shadow. Goddammit.

“Dude,” Raph headed him off, “it's been a night, okay, just – ”

“Look, I know you don't want to talk about it,” Leo said with a firm hand on Raph's arm, curtailing his attempts to get the hell out of dodge. But it was less that and more the earnest look in his wide almond eyes that kept Raph's feet rooted reluctantly to the floor. “I know that you probably had planned to tell us the news while we were together for the holidays, and I'm really sorry Elizaveta made it necessary for you to announce your engagement the way you did.”

Raph wanted to sink through the floor and disappear for maybe the rest of his life. Hoarsely, he said, “Leo, that's not – ”

“Just hear me out,” his big brother insisted, and somehow his expression only got more sincere. “I've – been texting you a lot recently about a guy I met on campus. Usagi. Remember?”

Raphael hazarded a nod, and shifted so that Leo's grip on his wrist was less of a grab and more of a hold. Leo nodded back, as though he needed the encouragement, and took a deep breath.

“I like him,” he blurted, cheeks coloring. “I like him a lot.”

Oh.

Oh.

“Oh,” Raph said, eyes huge in his face. Leo was still nodding, looking equal parts panicked to have said it out loud and relieved to part with the confession. He was staring at Raph like Raph had all the power to destroy him with a single word or harsh look, and Raph found he didn't care for that shit at all. “Look, man, that's – whatever, you know? You didn't really think we'd care, did you?”

“I don't know,” Leo said quietly, letting go of Raph's arm. “I mean – I told myself I was being stupid, but – ”

Raph could feel himself start to frown thunderously at the idea that Leo could tote around the ridiculous concept that his family's love for him was  conditional. And maybe it was a little hypocritical, since the same quiet worries had circled Raph's head, too, back when he was first irreparably charmed by the most obnoxious roommate in the history of UCLA – but at the same time, it was different. It was Leo.

“Hell yeah, you were being stupid. Look, as long as he's a good guy, as long as he doesn't – ” He thought of Bradford and the end of Mikey's sophomore year and abruptly saw red. Thought of the man Leo had his eye on doing anything similar, and his fists clenched so hard it hurt. “ – hurt you, y'know, in whatever way, then it don't matter. Not a lick. And our brothers and dad and Uncle L will all tell you the same thing. You know they will.”

There was a sheen to Leo's eyes that looked like it might be tears, but he chuckled warmly. Rubbed his face with the sleeve of his shirt and hitched up a smile so wide it probably could have left a permanent impression.

“Well – that's why I wanted to talk to you,” he said. “To say thanks.”

Something close to dread pooled in the pit of Raph's stomach. “Thanks?”

“Yeah. I was scared, but you made it less scary. You've always been so much braver than me.”

Fearless Leo's eyes shone for a split second before he moved forward a swift step and tugged Raph into a solid hug. They were about the same height, Raph realized dimly, and wondered when that had happened. It was autopilot to put his arms around Leo in turn, and he only got squeezed tighter for his troubles.

“I’m going to talk to father before I go back to school. Thanks, Raph, really.”

Raph closed his eyes, and allowed himself an inward and heartfelt, Fuck.

"There is no fucking way we can call it off now,” Raph said, waving his hands wildly. “No fucking way.”

He had called an Immediate Emergency Meeting, which was why they were all clustered in the back shed, AKA Mikey’s childhood art studio. The overhead light was still swinging from the fifth time Casey had smashed his head into it, and subsequently Casey was rubbing his forehead and cussing under his breath.

Similarly, Woody was only half-listening; eyes roving the room like he was trying to commit ever inch of the dust-covered space to memory, lingering on old painted canvases and listing sculptures like there was treasure to be found among them.

Raph had Mikey’s full attention at least. His little brother was perched on the workbench, watching him with wide, worried hazel eyes.

“Well,” he said slowly, “it’s still okay. We’ll just ride this thing out, y’know? I mean, we’re only gonna be here for the rest of the week, right? And then when we go back to school everything will go back to normal, you can call and say the two of you broke it off or something. Right?”

“I -- yeah, I mean.” Raph ran an agitated hand through his hair, forcing himself to calm down. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

Mikey beamed at him, tension easing out of his shoulders. Raph was unspeakably grateful, for the millionth time in his life, that he could always count on having Mikey on his team. Things never seemed as bad with him around.

“So you and Case just gotta act couple-y until then! No problem!”

Casey snorted, and Woody whipped around with a delighted expression. “’No problem’? Mikester.”

“What? What’d I say?”

Raph prayed that the shitty lighting in Mikey’s shed would be enough to hide the way his face turned red. From the coy look on his little brother’s face, and the amused look on Woody’s, he knew that was probably a fool’s hope.

Casey was still rubbing his forehead but he was watching Raph closely now, with something measured and thoughtful in his eyes.

Later, in the relentless quiet of Raph’s bedroom, the scattered feet between his bed and Casey’s cot seemed to stretch into miles. It was nothing like their first night there -- nothing like every night for the past few months in their dorm room at school -- when they could stay up and talk about anything, cradled safely in the dark as they learned to navigate each other’s pitfalls.

It was uncomfortable. The learned familiarity was gone. Raph was grasping for it at the corners.

Casey’s cot creaked as he rolled over, and his voice drifted through the space between them cautiously.

“Raph? You awake?”

With the blanket pulled up around his ears, Raphael pretended not to be.

Raph went slinking out of the house early the next morning. He waved to Uncle L when he passed him in the kitchen, put together a quick breakfast of leftovers out of the fridge, and crept out the side door into the yard while the sky was still more dark than light.

Father would have started the chores already. Raph wouldn’t see him until lunch. He wanted to talk -- it’s obvious he wanted to talk -- but he had always given his kids the whole of his faith, and probably trusted Raph to come and find him on his own when he was ready.

Fat chance of that.

Hiding in the horse barn, Raphael leaned against the wall and put his head in his hands and tried very hard not to lose his collective shit.

If the thing with Lisa wasn’t bad enough, now he’s fake dating a guy he wants to actually date, and it’s fake going really well, apparently, because they’re fake planning to get married.

He suckered himself into this situation in the first place, inviting Casey along for the visit home, but the kicker is he can’t even really bring himself to regret it. Not when the alternative would have been Casey on his own back in California.

He’s had a good time, Raph thought, and didn’t want to take a moment of it back.

“Yo,” Casey said abruptly, drawing Raph’s head up sharply. His sleep-touseled friend was in the wide doorway of the barn, looking distinctly unimpressed with him and the world and wakefulness in general. “Are you seriously avoiding me? Weak as hell, man.”

Raph could only stare at him, trying to find his footing in this conversation he was desperately unprepared for. Casey took pity on him after a moment and gestured over his shoulder.

“My buddy showed me where you were. I named her Chompy by the way, on account of the hole she chewed into my shirt the other day.”

Raph followed his hand to the fence opposite the barn, where the newest addition to the family sheep was gazing dolefully at them through the gap in the wooden posts. He blinked, and looked back at Casey, and said, “You can’t name Mikey’s sheep Chompy. That’s a stupid name.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re all named after like, artists and shit. Okay, fine in keeping with family tradition, she can be Chompy Picasso.”

“No. Just -- no. I’m gonna. Hold on.”

He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and sent a text to Mikey; who was probably still up at ass o’clock in the morning after having not gone to bed in the first place in favor of a sci-fi movie marathon with Don and Woody.

Sure enough, Raph got a reply almost immediately.

To: Mike case is tryin to name ur lamb chompy picasso

From: Mike !!!! thats the best name EVER tell him thx omfg

“Okay, well, it’s official,” he said, pocketing his phone again. “I don’t know any of you. You’re all total strangers. Get out of my house.”

“Pfft. That makes this engagement a little weird, don’t it?”

Raph didn’t flinch, but it was a close call, and he jerked his eyes away to stare at the wall, and then the ground. He didn’t want to talk about, didn’t know why he thought he could avoid it, wanted for there to be a way to go back and face Lisa from the beginning the way he should’ve -- the way she deserved -- instead of hiding from the situation like a coward.

He should have --

“Raph,” Casey barked, “stop freaking out, Jesus Christ!” His tone was sharp, but mostly without anger, and the steps forward he took were hurried. “I’ll slap you in the face to snap you out of it like in every bad Lifetime movie you’ve ever seen, don’t even try me.”

“You don’t watch Lifetime movies.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know what I watch.” Casey punched him in the shoulder, just hard enough to leave a residual ache there after his fist fell away. “And I don’t know what bullshit is running through your head right now, but we’re fine. This whole thing was my fault, and I’ll deal with it. So quit acting like the world’s comin’ to an end, you moron.”

Raph risked a glance up at him, disbelieving. Casey looked ready to throw another punch, agitated in a restless way that spoke more of worry than anything else.

And Raph felt like a moron.

“Fuck. Case, look -- “

But they were both interrupted by the dark head of a dapple grey stallion as it leaned over the door of its stall to see what all the commotion was about. It flicked an ear and shook out its mane before craning a long neck over to inspect Casey curiously.

“Holy shit,” Casey said, completely side-tracked as he stared at the approaching horse with wide eyes. “There’s a monster in your barn.”

“This is Spike.” Raph patted him fondly. “He’s nosy.”

“Yeah, I’ll say.” Casey put out his hands cautiously, and Spike leaned his nose into the cradle of his palms, snuffling wetly around for treats. “Ew,” Casey added, delighted.

Raph watched them for a minute, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“So,” he ventured, “we’re good?”

“Yeah, man. We’re good. Unless you keep acting like an idiot, goddamn.”

Spike lipped at the hem of Casey's shirt affectionately. Casey squawked, and Raph's heart did a complicated flip in his chest.

Raph's brothers, and his father, and his uncle all approved of Jones, whether the knew the full truth about the situation or not—but it was something else, something important, that his horse approved of him, too.

Fake dating, he reminded himself viciously, knowing already that the reminder wouldn’t stick.

The day before Thanksgiving, there was a big dance hosted at the rec center for the young adult crowd. The six of them took Uncle L’s truck, tired of being cooped up at the farm, and if the drinks provided weren’t spiked Raph would spike them his damn self.

“You see Lisa anywhere?” he asked, leaning against the wall next to Casey with a cup of warm punch.

“Am I s’posed to be lookin’ for her?”

“I owe her an explanation."

“You don’t owe anybody shit, bro, but I’ll keep an eye out.”

On Raph’s other side, Donnie straightened so abruptly that it got Casey, Raph and Leo’s -- from the other side of the refreshments table -- attention all at once. And before any of them had a chance to so much as open their mouths, he was pushing off the wall and striding through the crowd with vicious intent, looking ready to steamroll any number of people out of his way.

“What the heck,” Leo said, frowning. He was searching the room for the source of Donnie’s sudden beeline, and found it moments before Raph did.

Something ice-cold and toothed reared its ugly head in the pit of Raph’s chest at the sight of Bradford dragging his little brother out the back door. With a bitter taste in the back of his throat, he dropped his cup and shoved his way across the dance floor after Leo.

The back was for deliveries, with a wide gravel drive and a small storage shed. It was much quieter and darker out there, where the lights and the music and the dull roar of conversation from the party they had left behind were distant and muted.

Donnie was boxed in the doorway, frozen, with a hand over his mouth. Leo all but picked him up and moved him out of the way, face dark with furious fear, but after a second to take in the scene, he was motionless, too.

“What the fuck,” Raph blustered, shoving past, “move, don’t just -- “

“Holy shit,” Casey said from behind him. 

Bradford was crumpled on the ground, a bloody hand trembling over his broken nose. His lettermen’s jacket was stained with it, his cronies standing well back, and Woody was lowering his hands as Raph put the pieces of the scene together into a cohesive picture. 

Holy shit was right. 

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Woody said mildly, eyes cold as he looked Bradford over. “I really don’t want to have to tell you again.”

He looked like he really wanted to have to tell him again.

Reaching out without looking away from Bradford for a second, Woody gathered Mikey up under his arm, curling the smaller blond in tight against his side. Mikey’s eyes were wide but it was wonder in his face, and the beginnings of delight, and any shadow of that awful misery from moments earlier was burned completely away.

“Dude,” he whispered adoringly, “You’re a ninja.”

Woody’s icy expression gentled for him, almost absurdly, and if Raph looked to his left he’d see Donnie looking smug as shit at having been right about something no one else could have guessed from the very beginning, again. “Something like that. My aunt’s an MMA fighter. She taught me a lot. I took lessons for a few years, too.”

“Holy cats! Woody! That’s, like, maximum rad!” 

Grinning down at him, Woody said, “Anyway, weren’t we about to go dance?”

With a gasp, Mikey snatched up his hand and tugged him back toward the door. He looked surprised to see his brothers there, but he greeted them with a smile that didn’t shake, and Donnie touched Woody’s arm for a moment of exhaustive, wordless thanks. 

Woody shook his head with a stubborn glint in his eye, squeezing Mikey’s hand tighter. 

“Message received,” Leo said with a grin, and Raph watched Donnie take a mean delight in locking the back door behind them when they returned to the party. Not that he was worried about Bradford showing his ugly face anywhere near Mikey again anytime soon. He owed Woody a drink or ten for that. 

“Dude,” Casey said, “what the hell is up with that guy? Why’s he got it in for Mike?”

There was a wet floor sign and a disgruntled janitor cleaning up the spilled drinks Raph and his brothers left behind earlier. Raph went in search of a new spot to stand in.

“You know the movie Carrie?”

“Sure.”

“Same deal. Except instead of pig blood there at the end, Bradford got him up on stage in the middle of the homecoming dance and outed him in front of god and everybody.”

“Jesus fuck.”

“I got suspended that night for two weeks for beating the shit out of Bradford, but dad gave the principal so much hell she brought it down to one.” Glancing sidelong at Casey, Raph added, “Mikey got bullied after that, bad. Not for long, I mean, he doesn’t have three big brothers for nothing. But it left a mark on him, y’know, it really did some damage.”

“You think Woody knew?”

“I dunno. I didn’t tell him. And Mikey doesn’t talk about it. Anyway, I don’t think it matters. Anyone who looks at Mikey cross-eyed is gonna have fuckin’ Bruce Lee to deal with, and I’m more than fine with that.”

It wasn’t hard to find them on the dance floor, swinging each other around wildly and laughing louder than the band could play. The Mikey of two years ago wouldn’t recognize himself if he could see it, Raph thought. Dancing close with another boy in front of their whole small-minded town like there wasn’t a single goddamn thing to be ashamed of.

That night, warm with the alcohol they picked up on the way home and groggy, Raph fell into bed with his clothes on. Barely a minute later, hands were shoving at his chest and shoulder, and Casey was muttering, “Scoot over, dude, I’m not sleeping on that fucking thing anymore.” 

At three a.m. it made sense, and Raph rolled over to make room for him.

A rooster call woke him up scant hours later, and he blinked painfully through a hangover into the weak sunlight beginning to poke its fingers through the windows of his bedroom. 

His arm was slung over Casey’s waist. Casey was drooling on his shoulder. His head hurt too much to process either of those things.

“Yer thinkin’ too loud,” Casey muttered softly, the words wincing and whispered. “Too hungover for that shit.”

“Case -- “

“I swear to god -- “ 

“No, listen,” Raph was saying stupidly. “I don’t want to fake date you. It’s driving me insane, I don’t want to do it anymore. So that’s why we should -- “

With a soft cuss, Casey jerked upright. Raph had exactly one second to worry before his roommate was clambering on top of him, straddling his waist with a twisted comforter between them and leaning down with tangled hair and blurry eyes to kiss Raph quiet. 

It worked like a charm -- Raph shut right up. Casey kissed him for a lot longer anyway. Relentless, like there was something to make up for. Whatever it was, Raph was happy to give it, digging his fingers into his grip on Casey’s arms, keeping him as close as he could until the last possible moment.

To: X-XXX-XXX-XXXX sorry abt dinner the other night. sorry about a lot of stuff.

From: X-XXX-XXX-XXXX Forgiven. 

To: X-XXX-XXX-XXXX next time i visit ill make it up to you. promise

From: X-XXX-XXX-XXXX You will do no such thing. Next time, I will make it up to /you/. I owe you that much. 

From: X-XXX-XXX-XXXX And I hope you’ll introduce me to your fiance. I would like to meet him. 

Contact saved as “Mona Lisa.”

“What are you smilin’ about?” Casey mumbled without lifting his head, word salad all but lost against Raph’s collarbone. 

“How do you know I’m smiling, you creep?”

“C’n just tell. What’s up?” 

Raph set his phone aside, and pushed a hand through Casey’s hair. 

“Wanna come home with me again for Christmas?”

“Pretty sure I have a standing invitation from your entire family to crash all your holiday get-togethers, loser.” He slung an arm across Raph’s waist and yawned. “Welcome to the married life. No getting rid of me now.”

“We aren’t married, dumbass.” 

“Fuck you, go back to sleep.”

The two of them in one bed was a tight fit, but the cot was all the way across the room, they were still existing on the tender plane of the very barely not hungover anymore, and it seemed like a waste to sleep so far apart anyway.

On Thanksgiving Day, three things happen:

Mikey fucking outdoes himself, to literally no one’s surprise, and the food is fantastic. He and Woody hold hands through most of the meal, and Raph and Donnie share a wry look when father surreptitiously passes Leatherhead, who has better lighting from his side of the table, the digital camera. 

Leo comes out to the rest of the family, and it goes more or less exactly the way Raph thought it would. Leo's face is a pleased pink as he swipes through his phone at Mikey’s tireless demands for pictures of Usagi.

Raph clears his throat halfway through dessert and manages to meet his father’s eyes when he says, “There’s something I need to tell all of you. About the, uh. Engagement. See, we were -- Case and I, we were never really -- “

“ -- sure about the wedding date,” Casey cuts in smoothly, claiming a third slice of pumpkin pie. “We figured we’d put things on hold, you know, till we’re done with school, at least. No sense rushing in, right?”

Mikey and Woody are grinning across the table at him. Casey is grinning around a mouthful of pie. Raph throws his last vestiges of caution to the wind and grins right back. 

[screammdara]

It's finally #Day30 🎉 Thank y'all so much for all the happy birthdays & kind words. Words can't express how grateful I am for this life I've been given and all the people God has placed in it. My eighteenth year was amazing* but I'm believing this nineteenth year to be a year of unspeakable joy! #30DaysofDara 🌀💕