#like i don’t mean to both sides it but surely it is not vegans and vegetarians vs other ppl but people vs industry/societal norms…

[timefadesaway]

we need to have meaningful discussions about food and where we get it from and insulting each other isn't going to do anything at all like stop pretending all vegans are stupid or misguided or don't care about the people and stop pretending that all people who eat meat are dumb or heartless or don't understand impact. like it isn't a dichotomy. the most 'ethical' way to eat will depend massively on who you are and what you do and where you live. someone who lives rurally and gets all of their food within a 10 mile radius and knows most of the people who grew it or farmed it is going to have a different impact on the world and opinion on ethics than someone who lives in a city and cannot buy local because it does not exist. i cant be bothered to make the case properly but the meat industry IS unethical. consuming food that has travelled thousands of miles harvested from slave labour is ALSO unethical. like we should not be arguing over whose side is the most unethical - and everyone just wants to believe their way is the right way and feel better about themselves - we need to be discussing how to improve how we all access food. we need repurposing of land (which yes means everyone needs to be eating less meat) we need to change the way we eat in terms of demand and eating in season we need tighter regulations on animal welfare and how they're kept and how products like eggs and milk are taken we need sustainable sources we need local sources we need spaces to actually grow local for people who do not have gardens or space to do so at home. but how r we gonna go anywhere with it when everyone hates each other

#like i don’t mean to both sides it but surely it is not vegans and vegetarians vs other ppl but people vs industry/societal norms… #or vs inhumane infrastructure #and like u can make an argument like everyone should be vegetarian 👍 ok well it’s not going to happen like that. the world needs to change #first how are we getting there while we just shout at each other

[werecreature-addicted]

🥲 i cant stop thinking abt reducing a werewolf who’s in heat to a begging mess. like listen he js wants to fuck you and you won’t let him?? but he’s been such a good boy?? he’d start whining and whimpering like a puppy. ears laid back, he’s so desperate for you. so you agree to let him fuck you on one condition : he has to use his muzzle. last time he got a little bit too excited and started biting a little too hard. so now he has two options, he gets to fuck you with a muzzle on, or he doesn’t get anything at all.

he thinks it’s not fair that he doesn’t get to mark you. but eventually he accepts your conditions, but he’s whining about how it’s not gonna be the same. while he’s fucking you, poor baby is panting and drooling all over himself, begging you to take it off, he needs to mark you. you manage to remind him that greedy boys don’t get anything and he just starts going faster, to the point where none of you is able to form a coherent sentence. his mind is hazy, but he takes a mental note to get rid of that damn muzzle.

Listen listen listen. Your werewolf is torn, he never wants to hurt you and is absolutely destroyed that he went too far and hurt you the last time you two had sex. It’s all of his worst fears come true! He really is nothing but a monster driven by instincts telling him to chase carnal pleasures. He thought he meant it when he promised he’d never hurt you. Every time he looks at the heald mark on your neck it makes his stomach turn. He’s so worried you’ll leave him over this…that he’ll lose his mate because he couldn’t control himself.  He needs to be coaxed into even touching you again. Sex is almost completely off the table…almost. 

He’s still human- well he’s not but you know what I mean. He still has desires. Your touch still sends jolts of electricity down his spine, your smell alone is still enough to get him hot. He tries his best to satiate his needs with just kissing and dry humping. Although. It’s hard to enjoy anything when he’s fighting against his animalistic urges telling him to just mount you already. You like rough sex, you like how big and sometimes scary he can be, so what’s the problem? Marking feels good- at least for him, it does. And wouldn’t you want to make your wolf feel good? And who cares if you’re scared of his monstrous side? It’s not like you can run from him, you both know he could track you down where ever you ran off to.

Those monstrous thoughts scared him a little bit. He didn’t want to hurt you, but he also knew he needed to keep you as his, he wondered which one of those desires would come out on top if push came to shove. 

It doesn’t take long for his more carnal desires to win out. He’s begging for his attention and pleading for you to let him have you again. It’s been almost two full weeks since the incident and he’s pretty sure people can die from going that long without sex. He’ll do anything- and he’ll promise anything if you just let him have you. You don’t even need to do anything he’ll do all the work- he’s strong enough to use you like a Fleshlight you both know that

This is where you bring up the muzzle. It’s special. Made for werewolves so they can’t escape even with their strength. He agrees immediately! Then regrets it… again he’s torn. This is good… he can’t hurt you this way but god he hates this fucking muzzle. He can’t even kiss you like this, don’t you see how cruel this is? It’s just his nature. It’s like asking him to go Vegan. 

He knows that you’ll soil him with kisses once he’s calm again. Hell, he knows that you’ll probably let him bite you if he’s careful- but all those thoughts are background noise as he listens to you whine and moan. You take his cock so well- you take his teeth even better. He loves you with all his heart and werewolves show love by biting. 

He snarls to himself and gnashes his teeth behind the cage you put him in. he watches a bead of sweat drip down your neck and he mashes the grate against your skin and struggles to lick you. The muzzle digs in his face as he pushes its limits but he doesn’t care, he manages to lick the sweat from your skin and he shudders in pleasure. 

Once he does calm down you let him out of the muzzle and kiss him senseless. He feels better… he didn’t hurt you this time at least. But part of him wants to throw out that stupid cage.

#werewolf #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster imagine #werewolf boyfriend #werewolves #monster #werewolf smut #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader

[rentumblsstuff]

Random Hatchetfield Headcanons

The first time Alice Woodward ever smoked weed was when (after much inner turmoil) she asked Deb to shotgun it with her.

Max has two snaggletoothed incisors which is why people swear to god he has fangs.

Deb also has a snaggletooth which is what inspired the vampire part of Alice’s vampiric sapphic play. Alice also thinks it’s ironic she made a vampire character when Deb is a vegan.

Ruth as a Sophmore hit on Senior Alice a lot. Alice thought it was funny and she and Deb “adopted” her. Max and Steph also put the PANIC in bi panic for Ruth.

Max would find it weirdly hot that Grace wears bathing suits under her clothes because of the idea that he gets to see what her body looks like before even she does.

The hospital is downtown, so Becky Barnes definitely got infected in TGWDLM. Despite never wanting to do it again, Becky climbs the tree as someone calls the HFPD to save Kathy’s cat because she’s still infinitely compassionate even under Pokey’s control. Plus, Pokey knows she wants to get over the trauma associated with climbing trees, so he makes her do it to give her a big number about finally overcoming her past. She accidentally flings the cat as soon as the song starts, which is why in Show Me Your Hands, the cat dies so quickly even though it JUST got called in.

Peter infected Steph who infected Deb who infected Alice in TGWDLM. Pete and Steph would have been Sophomores and Deb and Alice were Seniors, but I always imagine Steph and Deb knowing eachother because MRFC said Steph is in the Smoke Club on Twitter at some point. Assuming Steph’s been a little punk for a while, she’s been in the smoke club since at least Sophomore year, and probably a new inductee the same year as TGWDLM (2018).

Alice and one of her parents (maybe Bill) were also raised in purity culture because we know the Woodwards and the Chastitys go to the same church. The Woodwards probably take it with a grain of salt though (Alice has expressed dislike over Grace’s prudishness)- either that or one of her parents (probably her mom) wasn’t originally from said church and also raised Alice with “this is what you’re learning here, but here’s also what I learned at my church at your age.” Bill was likely the one raised in purity culture because he does NOT LIKE DEB and thinks that if she HAS TO date a girl, she should date someone like Grace Chastity, implying she’s an exemplary teen girl. Ms. Woodward lets Deb sleep over and probably knows she smokes and likes her anyways; three points for Alice’s mom not being the puritanical one.

Ted reads romance novels. He’s a former geek turned sleazeball- you know he reads the smuttiest novels ever and calls them “his research”. He refuses to read any book with the friends to lovers trope because it’s too upsetting to think about. (Side note Time Bastard gave us a definite date that timelines don’t branch/reset before depending on whichever theory you believe because the homeless man is in every timeline, meaning that Jenny’s death is fixed in time and never changes: October 7th 2004, so the timelines change anywhere between October 8th 2004 and 2018.)

In whatever timeline Emma finally gets to have her weed farm, she meets Paul when he tells her he was prescribed that marajamij for his anxiety and he was too scared to try Xanax. She thinks he’s kind of cute for a wet cat of a corporate slave. “Fuck the patriarchy? Yes please.” (Side note Paul seems so uptight and unfuckable like bro gotta be blank down there like a Ken doll and has no discernible kinks from what I remember while Emma is laid back and chill asf and like… normal in comparison so yeah sure Paulkins canonically fucks but does Emma enjoy it?? Like dude even Pete’s more fuckable than him come on.)

Pete and Steph don’t kiss when they admit their feelings for eachother even though one of them would die before ever getting to kiss each other because they both think it’ll only make it that much harder to go through with sacrificing the other. One of the reasons Pete also chooses to be the one to take the bullet because he doesn’t think he even COULD pull the trigger on her. Like it’d be physically impossible for him, in his mind.

TGWDLM was originally meant to be an allegory for the institution brainwashing us. Show Me Your Hands and America’s Great Again: examples of people in power working for and fulfilling the evil wishes of some almighty, otherworldly, inhuman THING (be it aliens, be it those in power). It’s clearly meant to satirize the way that power corrupts and tries to convince you its way is better. Even Hidgens, THE FUCKING TEACHER, tries to teach his student that it will be better for everyone to join in that corruption and give in to the hive mind. This reminds me of how the school system in America tries to paint our history as something glamorous; manifest destiny instead of genocide of the indigenous populations. The people in power convincing those under them that the deaths of countless lives is a good thing and it will pave the way to a better future. Cool motive, still murder. Which is why Emma “Fuck the Patriarchy” Perkins is the last one to be infected. She was incapable of being brainwashed , and even when she was the last one left, she saw that the people watching didn’t care, and the all-consuming threat of corrupted power closes in on her until the very last moment.

The Lords in Black were going to try to convince whoever sacrificed their most treasured something to do more work for them, but Grace required very little convincing. Like Wiggly spoke into her mind like “Gracy-Wace! You forgot my booky-wook! Look in it, see any thing you like? Wanna kill all the pervy-wervys?” And she’s like “holy cow I can kill all the pervy-wervys with this book?” Pete would have needed the most convincing because he’s just lost the only girl who will ever love him (in his mind) and so he’d think these things took away his one chance at true love and NEVER want to deal with them again. Even if they offered him a way to get her back, he’s too smart to know that won’t come without an even bigger price AND too paranoid to think she won’t come back wrong like Max did.

If the Green-Foster family ever did get to move to California and Lex got to be an actress, her interview attitude would be a lot like Reneé Rapp and if she ever got asked about why she’ll openly shit talk people in an interview, she’s like “I used to work retail I learned pretty fast that nothing gets done if you keep your mouth shut.”

#starkid #hatchetfield #tgwdlm #black friday musical #nightmare time #npmd #alice woodward #max jagerman #grace chasity #bill woodward #stephanie lauter #peter spankoffski #ted spankoffski #paulkins #paul matthews #emma perkins #lautski #ruth fleming #becky barnes #lex foster #jenny starkid #lords in black #wiggog y'wrath

[prismatic-bell]

Thoughts on veganism?

So I’m going to separate this into two groups, militant vegans and normal vegans.

Militant vegans are assholes who probably don’t even actually give that much of a shit about animals or the planet, they just want an excuse to be horrible to other people and this is the one they picked.

Veganism as practiced by people who aren’t Like That: well-intentioned but misguided and misinformed, and often extremely Euroamericancentric. These are people who genuinely want to make things better, but have forgotten that humans are animals and part of an ecosystem. They’re extremely out of touch with the food web, to the point this is an actual conversation I had with a “vegan” once:

“The chipotle sauce is egg-based, would you like me to remove it?”

“Oh no, that’s fine.”

“…okay. And the caramel in your drink?”

“Oh, you can leave that. I just don’t eat animal products.”

CARAMEL IS MADE WITH MILK.

I can’t help comparing this to my own dietary restrictions due to religious law. I’m constantly checking packaging, learning how food is made, where ingredients are sourced from, asking questions about menus, to be sure I don’t consume pork. It’s something I take very seriously. And yet the number of stories I’ve heard about vegans gaily insisting that salami isn’t meat, that honey isn’t vegan but buttermilk is, and even—this one blows my mind—that cow milk is actually pus, tells me not a lot of commitment is being put in.

Certainly factory farming, and the shift in America and Europe toward meat being a main course rather than a side dish, are massive problems both environmentally and ethically. ZERO argument there. But creating strain on the global supply chain and insisting that everything you own be made of plastic because “leather is cruel” is a complete misunderstanding of both the problem and the solution, and an insult to human biology. Eating cooked meat is literally what made us human, from a biological standpoint. I think most vegans mean well. I also think they’re approaching the problem from entirely the wrong angle.

#you ask nina answers #a twist of meme

[cookies-over-yonder]

seven minutes in hell

Normal and Taylor won't stop arguing, so Scary does what any sane person would do, and shoves them into a closet.

gift for @officialgleamstar and @llumimoon :3c

ao3

“I’m gonna go pick up the pizza.”

Taylor grabs his cane and gets up from the couch.

Normal isn’t all that hungry, and besides, the vegan pizza options mostly suck anyway, so he let everyone else order whatever they wanted.

Link gets up too. “I’ll come with.”

And Link is going with him. Of course. Normal scoffs.

“What was that?” Taylor asks, with a slight edge to his voice.

“Oh, nothing, I just figured you two were going off alone again. Ignore me,” Normal cuts back with the wave of his hand.

“What’s your problem, Normal?” Taylor steps closer, and rather than glaring back, Normal locks his gaze on Taylor’s dangling and sparkly heart earring, scarlet like the streaks in his hair.

“I don’t have a problem,” Normal mumbles.

“ Yes , you do,” Taylor lifts an arm to point an accusatory finger, and the movement makes the earring sway backward and forward. Normal didn’t initially know Taylor to wear flashy accessories, but it seems like the survivalism paired with mandatory camouflage has worn off a little. “You’re always weird with me.”

“Well, it’s not my fault that everybody loves you even though they hate me!”

“Huh?”

Taylor’s eyeshadow matches his earrings too, scarlet and sparkling. Normal thinks he’s only started wearing eyeshadow recently, though he’s worn the same black cat-eye eyeliner for as long as Normal can remember.

“Just…”

Well. Now he’s looking into Taylor’s eyes.

And they’re confused.

And Normal can feel the explanation bubbling up and his filter fails him, but maybe that’s fine. Maybe everyone will see his side.

“It doesn’t make sense,” Normal stands up to reach a level playing ground with Taylor. “You’re not taunted. You’re not shunned. You’re not bullied. You’re not ignored. Everyone loves you even though you’re just as annoying as me! ” Normal sucks in a breath. “No. Even more. You’re even more annoying than me. You’re so full of yourself even though you’re a loser too, and I can’t wrap my head around why everyone likes you when they can’t like me.”

Normal huffs, cheeks hot.

Taylor stares back, eyes glassy.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, dude?” Taylor’s voice remains strong as ever despite the tears in his eyes. “If you hate me so much, then why are we even here? It’s not my fault that you’re just a jealous bitch! We’re getting the fucking food!”

He grabs Link by the arm and starts marching toward the door.

“ Hey. ”

A sharp voice cuts through the tension in the air like a knife.

Scary.

The look in her eyes means business, and Normal feels he can’t say a word.

“ What. ”

Ah, leave it to Taylor to fill the silence.

“You two,” she grabs Taylor and Normal each by the wrists. Taylor yelps and she whispers a quick apology before dragging the both of them down the hallway.

Next thing Normal knows, he’s thrown into a closet with Taylor.

“Don’t come out until you’ve figured out your shit!” Scary shouts from outside the door.

“Scary, are you sure—”

“This is their fucking problem, Link, and they’re going to fix it. I’m sick of it.”

“Okay, okay.”

Normal hears Scary grumble something about pizza, and then two sets of footsteps trailing away.

“Is she serious?” Normal huffs, staring at the closet door. It’s not like it has a lock.

“Are you serious?” Taylor snaps, and Normal locks eyes with his, and suddenly he can’t pull away.

The strand of jet black hair that lands just over his left eye is backlit.

“Your eyes are glowing,” Normal breathes out despite himself.

“Dude.”

“Right.”

“You know you don’t know everything, right?” Taylor asks, voice a lot softer than before. Shakier too.

Fuck.

It finally sets in.

Normal barely processed what he was saying in the moment, and now, well.

He thinks he might be sick.

“Look, Taylor, I’m sorr—”

“Stop. Just stop. You apologize every time I make you pissed. I get it.”

“It’s not—”

“And I also get that your jealousy is why you keep projecting everything you hate about yourself onto me.”

Taylor clears his throat.

Normal swallows.

“Honestly, I don’t get why you hate yourself so much. You’re not a loser. You’re on the fucking cheerleading team. I think I’d collapse and die if I tried doing one of those routines,” Taylor swipes a hand through his hair.

“You wouldn’t die.”

“Let’s not test that theory.”

“Right.”

“Also, not everyone hates you. There’s at least us, your friends,” Taylor says, with his hand landing on Normal’s shoulder, sending shivers down his spine.

“You don’t hate me after I said all that stuff to you?” he asks, shutting his eyes.

“Do you hate me for calling you a jealous bitch?”

“No. I deserved it.”

“That’s another thing I don’t get.”

“Huh?”

Normal looks back up at Taylor’s glowing eyes, startlingly sincere.

“You said everyone loves me. That’s not true.”

“Really?”

He nods.

“You wanna know why I took up martial arts?”

“Why?”

“To defend myself.”

“Well, yeah—”

“Against bullies .”

“Oh.”

“I have haters too. They just can’t handle T. Swift. But that’s their problem. And the same thing goes for you,” Taylor moves his hand from Normal’s shoulder to press a finger to his chest, and Normal sucks in a breath. His long, claw-like nails are painted with a red to match the rest of his look. “It’s their problem. Not yours.”

All Normal can do is nod.

“And I’m sorry too. For excluding you, I mean.”

“No, that’s—I was just reading into it.”

“Well, either way, you’re always welcome to join in.”

“Thanks, Taylor.”

“No problem, Normie.”

The nickname makes his stomach flutter a little.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re a pretty cool dude,” he adds.

“I think you’re cool too.”

Next thing Normal knows, Taylor’s wrapping him up in a tight hug, one where he’d usually suspect Taylor’s knowledge of pressure points to come into play, but this isn’t an attack.

Still, he can feel his heart thudding.

And Taylor smells nice. Like flowers. That’s the last thing he’d expect.

After a few seconds, he pulls away, though hesitantly.

“When did you start wearing eyeshadow?” Normal asks. Though it’s dark, he can still see the contrast of red against his olive skin.

“Oh, like, a few weeks ago? You like it?”

“It’s pretty.”

“Thanks,” Taylor bites his lip.

Cherry red lipstick.

He really did coordinate well.

“... heaven.”

Taylor was saying something.

Fuck.

He got distracted.

“What was that?” Normal asks, eyes still on Taylor’s lips. Despite the dark closet, it’s a red so bright. Pretty colour.

“I said it’s funny how Scary sent us into seven minutes in heaven.”

“Pfft, more like seven minutes in hell,” Normal replies, though the thought of that game is enough to tear his gaze away and bring it back to Taylor’s eyes.

“Oh, what, ‘cause I’m a demon?”

“Mhm!”

“You write fanfiction, right?”

“Yeah.”

“You ever written a seven minutes in heaven fic?”

“It’s kinda hard to fit two mascots into a closet.”

“I’d say that makes it even steamier.”

“Taylor!”

Taylor giggles, and man, it’s insufferably cute. Whatever. Taylor’s always been cute, and Normal’s sure everyone knows it.

“I’m just saying! It’s a fun trope. I’ve written it.”

“I knew you were a fanfic writer!”

“How did you?”

“Author recognizes author, I suppose.”

Taylor bites his lip again, grinning like mad.

“What are you smiling about?”

“I don’t know, I missed you.”

“Missed me?”

“Like…” Taylor grabs Normal’s hand and holds their interlocked grasp between their chests. “We were never super close, but we used to actually talk. I don’t know how the fighting started, but can we make a truce or something? Like is it over?”

God.

Taylor is so sweet.

He might be one of the most loyal people Normal knows.

“Yeah. It’s over,” Normal smiles back at him.

“I guess Scary was right, all we needed was a makeout session to solve our problems.”

“ What? ”

“Because it’s seven minutes in heaven.”

“It’s not.”

“Well, my fics often start with bickering too,” Taylor smirks.

“Are you flirting with me?”

“I’m telling you about my writing habits,” Taylor says, leaning in closer. He’s definitely trying to fluster Normal with his fluttering eyelids and glittering blush and cherry red lips that have some sort of magnetic pull luring him in.

And it’s working.

“This is seven minutes in hell.”

“Oh please,” Taylor leans away, and starts pushing the door open, “you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupi—”

Normal is the type to get what he wants.

Normal is the type to follow his heart.

He’s impulsive.

And yes, that impulse has led to danger.

And yes, that impulse has led to hurt feelings.

That impulse may be why some hate him.

Chasing his desires may be why some hate him.

His desires themselves may be why some hate him.

But that’s their problem.

Because right now, he finds himself lip-locked in the closet with Taylor Swift, hands on his cheeks.

And Taylor’s hands make purchase on the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

When they part for air, Taylor gasps, looking back at Normal dazed, before his eyes float back to his lips. And he leans in again, but before he can close the gap—

“It made you look pretty stupid too.”

“Yeah,” Taylor breathes out, before pulling him back in.

Kissing Taylor is like having your soul sucked out of you and replaced with lava. The desperation and craving that he exhibits makes Normal wonder how long he’d been wanting.

And Normal doesn’t know when, but Taylor pins him against the closet wall, breathing heavy before taking more of Normal’s air.

And Taylor’s tail coils around Normal’s wrist and pulls, like it’ll never let go again.

An involuntary whine escapes Normal’s throat, and Taylor freezes before backing away.

Normal misses the heat of his lips immediately.

“You okay?” Taylor asks, breathless, licking lipstick off his teeth.

“Yeah, yeah, I… I… holy shit …”

Taylor nods and his head dips down. His cheeks are flushed bright red and Normal can feel the heat radiating off of him.

“Hey, are you okay? You’re really warm,” Normal says, holding him steady by the arm.

“‘M good. Just need something to drink.”

“Okay, I just don’t want you to pass out or anything.”

“Still would’a been worth it.”

And almost as if on cue, the voice of Scary rings through the hall:

“We got pizza and drinks! You guys done yet?”

“I’d still say this was seven minutes in hell,” Normal whispers, “because you ,” he presses a finger against Taylor’s chest, “are an insatiable demon.”

Taylor looks back with a mischievous glint in his eye and a fangy grin on his face.

(*˘︶˘*).｡*♡✧*(◍•ᴗ•◍)✧

#tayloak #dndads #fic #cookies writes and cookies wrongs #cookies fix #dungeons and daddies #taylor swift dndads #normal oak #angst #fluff #seven minutes in heaven

[promptcorner]

Hey, question: would you be willing to give us more about the dp x tfrb prompt? the one about danny/cody? Any hc or anything like that?

Sure! I’m currently working on a fic for it now, but I’m willing to share some head-cannons that won’t spoil anything.

I’ll do Cody first:

Since Cody was a Lad Pioneer (basically a Boy Scout) he would, like, be able to recognize a bird’s call and replicate it. I hc he would also have Brennan Lee Mulligan levels on bird facts, not just North American birds, but birds across the world.

Give him an audio recording of a bird call and he would tell you what bird it is, where it’s located, and all that jazz in seconds.

He’s a nature nut too, that’s cannon. But I imagine he has all the little guid books you can get in 4Winds (a fun thing my school did to get people into nature. They handed out these little book on pond life, birds, and bugs. There were a lot of them). He has Eagle Scout levels of this and beyond.

He would also know CPR, and other medical stuff, he has the training. We don’t see it in the show, but I believe he has the skill. It would be weird if he didn’t.

I also hc Cody knows how to cook. He’s not a chef by any stretch, but his home cooking is pretty good. His dad taught him how to use the grill. I like to imagine he cooks for the family sometimes.

I hc that when Codys’ super duper stressed he starts quoting rescue codes if the situation calls for it. Chase uses these codes more often, but Cody specifically uses them when under extreme stress.

Cody tends to notice the little things along with Frankie. It’s to the point he can spot a speck of dirt in a bucket of glitter. He would totally be the first to notice something is going on with Danny. He wouldn’t know it’s ghostly stuff, but he would hypothesize Danny is an alien.

And fun fact that I’m totally going to abuse in my fic, Danny and Cody both wear red and white sneakers in their respective shows. Like, their different, but the colors are still there. I noticed this one day while doing research. It’s almost like their inverted!

I find it funny that they have similar fashion senses.

Now for Danny:

Danny would find it funny that they have similar sneakers and go all middle schooler on the fact.

Danny would have heard of Griffin Rock from Tucker and his parents, but mostly from Tucker. Sam would appreciate the environmental side of the island. Danny would love the bots, but he wouldn’t know their aliens before coming to Griffin Rock.

Danny can’t cook to save his half-life but knows the Fenton Fudge Recipe. Heck, like his parents inventions, he makes it even better then them. He even knows how to make it vegan for Sam.

He is a tech genius and doesn’t even recognize it. He has great battle prowess too. That’s, like, cannon— but I like to think he would thrive in Griffin Rock with Frankie and Cody giving him words of encouragement and whatnot. The Docs would love to work with Danny and discuss tech; and later Tucker, Sam, and Jazz. Maybe other characters too. I also hc that he’s dyslexic, not dysgraphic. He can write very well, but his spelling and reading sucks. He may also have some undiagnosed ADHD.

He knows how to play the guitar and sing. He’s picked up a few things from Ember.

I hc he has freckles, their faint, but present. They glow in his ghost form when he’s filling an obsession, happy, or blushing. His Lichtenberg scars are faded, but darken when he’s struck with electricity in both forms. No new Lichtenberg scars will appear though, it’s like the already existing ones absorbed them.

I also hc he has weird heart stuff that only shows when connected to a heart monitor in human form. He can turn his heart on and off and be fine due to the ghostly stuff. He’s cold like Winter itself, the cold never bothered him anyway type deal.

He won’t be killed when drowned and stuff in human form, but that doesn’t mean he won’t choke and lose consciousness. He feels the pain, though, and hates it with a passion.

I hc that he has two obsessions, but he doesn’t know. No one knows. It’s just that rare.

I also hc that the Infinite Realms is a sentient being that has been watching over Danny since day one. He’s like their child.

Fun fact for the fic: The Realms are not the only ones watching Danny. :)

Danny and Cody have a lot of similarities that I would like touch on, but I’m going to save them for the fic.

Thanks for the ask!

Update! There is now a fic!

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[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

Title: Glass Shell

Verse: ROTTMNT

Summary: Afterall, aren’t we all in various stages of falling apart?

Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael

Pairings:

Warnings: PTSD, meltdown, nightmares, past trauma

@hoshisoul and @soldierofsirens thank you both :)

Being a record-breaking insomniac, Leo is always finicky if he wakes up before he’s ready. Normally the process includes twelve alarms, turning off the heated blanket he had started using for the top half of his body and the slightly warmer second heated blanket he used for the bottom half and letting nature do its work (if he’s lucky, he’d be up by noon). What he doesn’t like is having an empty bag dropped entirely on his face. For a moment all he can do was shoot up in a sitting position and swipe at his face furiously till he’s able to catch it and pull it off. He pushes up his eye mask and rubs at his face as he reads the bag.

“Naturally sourced fair trade premium coffee beans?” He looks up to his assailant. “Raph, I keep telling you coffee is a gateway drug and our grocery bills can’t afford another caffeine addict—”

“That's not—no, I don’t have the physical strength to fight Donnie for coffee every morning,” Raph says with a shake of his head, as though the very thought of it was enough to give him nightmares. “No, I wanted to talk to you, ’cause I think something might be happening and I’m not sure. I’ve been wrong in the past; I’ve made things worse in the past—” Raph starts tapping his forefingers as his talking speeds up. “And—and I don't want to overstep, but I can't stop thinking about it and—and I thought I’d come to you since you’re better about this—”

“Buddy, buddy, you’re at a 10 right now, I need you to be at a 3,” Leo pulls his water jug off his bedside and takes a sip. “Maybe a 2. “

Raph's face twists up in frustration, but he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes again. He starts pacing across the small space between Leo’s bed and the door, gesturing with his hands.

“OK, so we got groceries two days ago. I remember because you always buy an extra three boxes of cookies. One for dipping into sour cream while you shop, one for Pops so he doesn’t eat your cookies, and one for the drive home, ’cause, and I quote: ‘I just did my chore for the week and I deserve this.’” Raph pauses and looks at him. “You know, how you’re still alive is beyond me.”

“Pizza Supreme in the Sky wouldn’t gift me to the world and take me away so easy.'' Leo grins. Now that he’s waking up more, he stretches out his arms and legs in almost a catlike manner and yawns. “OK, OK, so we went grocery shopping. So what?”

“So, every week Donnie gets four large bags of overpriced coffee from that vegan store on the other side of town because the one we used to go to banned you both.”

“We’ve been over this. If they didn’t want us to ride a robot bear through their vegan honey aisle they should have put up a sign—”

“—SO I went to throw it in the recycling bin. And I saw there were already, like, four bags in there. That doesn’t seem healthy.”

Ah, worried big brother Raph is a classic. Leo can’t help but smile and reach out, wrapping his smaller hand around Raphs larger finger, which instinctively wraps around his.

“OK, OK, big guy, come here. Come listen to Wisonardo.” He manages to scoot over to let Raph sit down next to him before he gets up on his knees and starts kneading his shoulder. But upon realizing his fingers didn’t have the strength to make a difference, he switches to his elbows. “I know you love to worry. It’s your favorite thing to do other than collecting Teddy Bear Town coupons and anxiety. And the fact you haven't been hovering over him is great and I’m proud of you… I mean yeah, that much coffee would kill a T-Rex. But Donnie—'' Four bags was a lot of coffee, was he not sleeping at all? “That is a lot for him, but we’ve all been going through a lot with the Invasion, and I think this is just how he’s coping. I think.”

He was trying not to think about how he noticed the coffee pot had gone missing from the kitchen. Which meant either Donnie had broken the three he kept in his lab, or he had all four going off at once to ensure he didn't go a second without coffee. Out of the two options he wasn’t sure what was worse.

“So right now, we just need to give him his space. If something was really wrong my twin senses would have gone off—”

The sound of shattering glass fills the lair, and in a fit of panic, he vaults over Raph’s head. ”Nope, never mind, bad things are happening!” he says as he bursts out of his room. Leo turns so fast his feet slip under him, but he manages to right himself and run towards Don's lab.

“Donnie?” he calls out. Please let it just be an accident. Donnie’s hands were probably just slippery or he saw a spider or Webster changed the spelling of “theater” again. But as he turns around the corner, he sees pieces of a broken beaker on the floor outside his room, and a moment later a large monitor joins it, shattering and scattering across the floor.

“Donnie?” he calls out again. He runs and throws the curtains back.

Oh no.

The first thing he sees is Donnie, his tech shell to him. Before he can feel relief that he’s not hurt, he sees Donnie’s room, which, ever since they moved in, contained carefully stacked boxes all around the room's edge with the only real furniture being a desk. Now the boxes have fallen around the room with electronics and harddrives spilling out over the floor. Donnie has already grabbed a computer tower and has started raising it up over his head.

Despite years of knowing better, Leo lunges forward and wraps his arms around Donnie’s torso, trapping his arms and yanking back hard. The sudden movement causes Donnie to lose his grip on the tower and drop it back to the ground.

”Donnie, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Let me go!” Donnie shouts, thrashing around. Had it been any other turtle, Leo would have found it impossible to restrain him (Raph was Raph and Mikey was a hellion who once Kool Aid Man'd through a wall to avoid getting a tetanus shot), but he manages to lock Donnie in place by gripping his opposite wrist in a wrestling move Raph taught him.

Raph is by his side a moment later with wide, panicked eyes, looking from the ransacked lab to their brother.

“What happened! What's going on?!”

“I got him, I got him!” says Leo, even though it probably doesn’t look like that. Right now Leo’s highest priority is getting Donnie out of that room, but Raph is already hovering too close. “I said I got him. Make sure nothing is broken in here, OK? Please?” he begs.

Leo doesn’t bother to wait for an answer as he drags Donnie out of the room as best he can with Donnie’s thrashing. Before he can think of where to go, his foot catches a broken piece of monitor and the two hit the ground. Leo’s other arm instinctively covers Don’s head to keep it from hitting the concrete. Before Donnie can take advantage of his fall, he continues clinging to him as tight as he can, whispering through gritted teeth, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” as his eyes burn with tears. He presses his face into the back of Don’s neck. “It’s OK.”

After what feels like an eternity, but in reality is only a few moments, Donnie seems to understand Leo isn’t releasing him anytime soon. Slowly, his thrashing becomes weaker and the fist he had been using to pry Leo’s arm off him falls limp. There’s a small tremble that makes Leo think he’s mustering up strength to go another round before he begins to weep softly.

Leo lets out a sigh of relief. He loosens his grip for a moment to test if Donnie will take advantage and try to pull away. He lacks either the energy or the will to try anything. So Leo reaches up and grabs at the ground and heaves the two of them up into a sitting position, careful not to jostle him too much.

He checks to make sure they’re not caught on any of the wreckage before he reaffirms his other arm around him, holding him just as tight as before, but trying to comfort rather than restrain. He presses their temples together gently as he uses his thumb to stroke the back of his head.

“I gotcha buddy, just breathe,” he says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raph exit Don’s bedroom with a less-than-promising look on his face. Leo guides Don’s head so he can rest his chin on his scalp and looks at Raph. “How bad is it?”

“The surface was pretty badly cracked, but it might still work? I’m not exactly an expert,” he says, looking at Don.

Leo knows all he wants to do is check on him and find out what happened, but Leo shakes his head with a sympathetic expression on his face. Donnie doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions and he hopes that Raph will understand. Their older brother holds his gaze a moment later and, after a soft sigh, he nods.

“I’m….going to start cleaning up. Let me know if you need me…” he says, looking at them a moment longer and then walking away.

Leo is going to have to find some way to thank him later. He knows how hard it is for Raph to walk away, which is just another reason Leo knows Raph’s real strength has nothing to do with his physical form.

“I’m really proud of him,” he whispers to Donnie.

For the next several minutes, Leo simply holds his brother and rocks him. He does what he can to support him emotionally and physically as he weeps softly. But eventually, he feels Donatello stop trembling. Leo loosens his grip for a moment to test his reaction. But either Don has no reason to get free or he’s too exhausted to do so—he doesn’t know which, and isn’t sure if one would be worse than the other.

“Hey, Raph,” he calls softly. Raph ducks out of Don’s room a moment later. “Did you see if Donnie has his new bed set up yet?” When Raph shakes his head sadly, Leo lets out a small sigh.

“Oh, bud.” He holds Don a inch tighter to him. “I get it, I do,” he whispers, He looks back to Raph. “Can you help us real fast? Let's get him to my room so he can get some sleep.”

Raph’s eyes lit up, grateful to be of some help. He nods and kneels down. He holds his hand up, then hesitates. “It-It’s ok? I don’t want to mess up again—”

“Raph, it's OK. Please.” Leo gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, undermined by the fact that his lips can’t stop trembling.

But it has the intended effect. Raph nods. “Ok, let's go.”

Between the two of them they are able to lift Donnie to his feet. Raph has a careful grip on his shoulders that tells Leo he’s considering just picking him up, but Leo catches his eyes and shakes his head. Raph thankfully respects his wishes, but stays close as Leo pulls Don’s arm over his neck. Again, he tests to see if Donnie would rather walk on his own, but the softshell leans against him with his free hand wiping at his eyes. He’s grateful for Raph staying close as he helps Don to his bedroom, even more so when he pulls the covers back.

“Thanks, man,” he whispers over his shoulder as he guides Donnie closer. He’s unsure how to help him get into bed without manhandling him, but Donnie simply flops over on the bed and curls up in a little ball. Leo does a look-over for injury and spots a large bruise forming on his left bicep, but after a quick panic, reminds himself it would be impossible for Donnie to give himself that sort of bruise. But as Raph pulls the covers over him, he notices Don’s hands hanging over the side and that his fingers and gloves are covered in a brown liquid.

“I’m going to take these off for you, OK?” he says. He takes the gloves by the bottoms and peels them off as gently as he can, watching Don’s sleeping face in case he has any protest as Leo reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a container of unscented hand wipes. He looks over his shoulder to Raph as he bundles a bunch of wipes into his hands. “He can’t stand to have things sticking to his hands. It stresses him out,” he explains. Leo’s not sure he’s done a satisfactory job, so he sets the wipes by the bedside.

“In case you need them, bud.”

He considers going and getting one of the duffel bags Mikey has in his room, but decides against it, as Donnie is already asleep. The only consolation is that the tears streaming down his face have finally stopped, and Leo can only assume he’s sleeping well. He bunches his hoodie sleeve into his fist and carefully wipes off Don’s face and stands up hesitating a moment longer to turn the dial on Don’s headphones to noise canceling mode as gently as he can without waking him.

He turns to Raph and gestures nothing we can do now; let him rest.

“Y—yeah, OK.” Raph looks back at Donnie but Leo takes him by the arm and helps him out. Leo looks back to make sure Donnie is actually asleep before he squeezes his arm gently.

“Hey, you did so well, Big Guy. I’m proud of you.”

“Did I? He was so out of it and—and I didn’t do anything. You did more than I did—”

“You didn’t overcrowd him, you didn’t barrage him with a thousand questions. You listened, I—I—” Now that they’re out of his bedroom, he lets his voice crack as he drops Raphs arm. He presses the palms of his hands to his now-burning eyes. “I—I’ve never had to restrain him like that before. I was so scared he was going to hurt himself and I—I—” His voice cracks again and this time Leo feels Raph put a hand on his shell and guide him into a tight protective hug. Despite himself, he gratefully leans against his brother and hugs him back just as tightly. He allows himself a few moments of comfort before he pulls away and wipes at his eyes again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he says, fluttering his hands, and he takes several deep breaths. He can feel Raph giving him the same look he had given Donnie.

“You look beat, man. Do you want to crash in my room for a bit?”

“No, not right now. Donnie’s stressed ’cause he has too much work to do. He’s had to rebuild our home three times now; the least we can do is pick up his bedroom.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a plan. Should we call Dad? He’d want to know.”

“He would, but he’s at Mikeys’ appointment and I don't want to worry him. We’ll let him know when they get back.” He looks at Raph. Even though the snapping turtle was no longer the leader, he still sought his opinion on certain situations. After a moment of eye contact, Raph nods.

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll grab another dustpan and then we’ll get to work.”

Leo takes a moment and looks back to the room where his brother is currently sleeping off the worst meltdown he has ever seen. The fluttering returns to his hands as he shakes out his hands and takes another deep breath before heading to Donnie’s wrecked room.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Cleaning had never been Leo’s strong suit; helping, even less so. But with Raph’s guidance, the two are able to clean up the disassembled room that had been assigned to Donnie. Now that things are being cleaned up, he can see the shattered remains of two coffee pots and a broken mug with dried coffee under one of the fallen stacks. Leo doesn’t point it out to Raph. He doesn’t want to brainstorm over what happened here; his anxiety would only think of the worst-case scenario and do no one any good. But he takes note of it as he cleans up. Even with the help, it takes a few hours to get anything back into respectable order. Nowhere near as organized as Donnie had been (there were no sub-subcategories or codes), but hopefully done well enough so that Donnie wouldn’t be stressed out.

“Ugh, I can’t believe Splinter expects us to do this more than once a year,” Leo grumbles as he stands up straight, shaking the dust from their labor off his hands.

Raph looks at him with a big smirk that Leo hadn’t realized he missed. “If you cleaned more than once a year it wouldn’t be hard to clean.”

“UGH. NO. I REFUSE! That’s for ugly people!” he says with an overly dramatic scoff that does the intended job of making Raph laugh. His older brother reaches over and takes his shoulders from behind, digging his thumbs into his shoulders.

“Alright, your highness, let's get out of here before you break into hives.”

“Ow, ow! Spiky fingers, spiky fingers!!!” He squirms to free himself, but Raph guides him out of the room. Leo twists free and sticks his tongue out at him at a safe distance, which does nothing other than make Raph laugh harder. “OK, you brute, for a job well done, I think we deserve ice cream,” he says. Without waiting, he skips back over to the kitchen. He’s already imagining what kind of cottage cheese he’s going to add to his ice cream as he pulls the freezer door open. The cold breeze barely reached his finger tips before he freezes up.

Endless darkness.

His body ached from hours and hours of battle and now rested against a large rock. It was the closest he had come to rest in close to twelve hours. Through bleary eyes, he saw a large form, forged from metal he couldn't even imagine. It caused the very ground beneath him to tremble with each step. Its laughs were as dark as the void around him.

“My wrath shall be reserved for you and you alone.”

Leo jumps back and slams the freezer door shut. He throws himself back as far back as he can until his shell hits the kitchen table, causing it to slide back several inches. He looks at the fridge as though he expected the cold to break free and drag him in with it.

The cold always made it worse.

The cold always consumed him.

The sound of Raph’s footsteps reaches him and he barely has time to stand back up and calm his exterior before he enters.

“What’s up? What kind of ice cream are we eating?”

“Um, ACTUALLY, how about we eat some real food? I forgot I have a cavity so I have to chillax on the ice cream,” he says, hoping Raph doesn’t remember he considers cavities to be achievements, but after giving him a quizzical expression, Raph looks back out into the Lair. Confused, Leo goes to join him, but realizes what, or who, Raph is looking for.

“Looks like Splinter and Mikey decided to go shopping after their appointment.” Leo leans in the doorway by him.

“If they went to Sparkling Sterling Sporks, then we might not see them again for a week,” Raph says with a smirk, but Leo watches Raph’s gaze go back to his subway car. For a moment he’s scared that Raph will just go over, but his older brother takes a deep breath. “OK, Lee, I’ll follow your lead on this. What should we do next?”

Leo isn’t sure how many more times he can tell Raph he’s proud of him before it loses meaning. Instead, he gives him a supportive squeeze on the arm.

“I’ll check on him if he’s still asleep. I don't want to wake him. Mikey made a giant pot of french onion soup; can you heat some up? It's one of Don's favorites and maybe it’ll help him feel better.”

“No coffee?”

“God no, but if you could rush order some coffee beans and a new coffee maker for tomorrow, that’d be great. If he finds out he’s all out he’s going to murder us all without mercy.”

Raph breaks out into another smile but it falls into a moment of Oh shit, he’s right as he turns and books it back to the kitchen with his phone up, typing furiously. Leo can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. Laughing again feels really good; it feels like he hasn't laughed since the Invasion, unless it was for show. He makes his way back towards the subway car. After a moment to steel himself, he presses his palm to his bedroom door. He had only intended to peek, but after a glimpse his eyes widen and he throws the door open.

The bed is empty.

“Donnie?!” he calls, looking around. There isn’t really a space to hide in his room but he has to make sure Donnie isn’t sitting in a corner out of sight. “Dee? Alone time is fine but knowing you’re OK is even cooler??” He hurries out into the main living space and does a quick 360 to make sure Donnie isn’t hanging out in the arcade or wandering around with a broken coffee pot for his first victim.

There is none.

There is nothing.

Leo turns to run to the kitchen before skidding to a stop and he flutters his hands angrily by his head. “Calm down, calm down, it’s OK, it’s OK. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone. Donnie is capable and fine,” he reminds himself. He blows out air between his lips and, with one final angry flap, stills his hands. He manages to calm his exterior and goes to the kitchen, hoping Donnie wandered in in the ten seconds he was gone. He feels his heart drop when he only sees Raph at the stove, who gives him a confused look.

“Leo? Donnie ok?”

“Um, yeah, yeah.” His hands tremble again as he does one more look around the room. “I mean, yeah, I think he is. He’s not here. And—and he’s not in the Lair.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” A surge of panic fills Raph's eyes that Leo has been expecting since they first heard the glass break. “He’s not here? Did he run away—”

“No, no, I don't think that.” Leo has to bring his hands up again and stims a little. He has to calm down, separate the panic from the truth. “No. Donnie doesn’t run away, he sulks and pouts. He only runs away dramatically after we’ve binge-watched the first twenty-three seasons of Lou Jitsu in Lou Jitsu and his Shakes-Pearean Wedding to MilkShakespeare.” Deep breath, deep breath. “We were cleaning for a while,”—he has to be logical—“He might have just needed some air and walked out without telling us.” Leo pulls out his phone and, not for the first time, he prays that Donnie secretly installed his turtle tracker on his phone. But as he struggles to pull up any apps through burning eyes, all he can see is Donnie's wrecked bedroom, one that was done after a terrible night at the Yokai Mart which felt like a lifetime ago and now, in a Lair that didn't feel like home, the feeling of Donnie thrashing against him before breaking down and weeping in his arms.

He pauses.

He realizes.

Leo takes a deep breath and puts his phone (one more wrong password from being locked out) back in his belt. He closes his eyes and makes eye contact with Raph, who's looking at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I think I know where he’s at,” he starts carefully, with less confidence than he’s trying to exude. “I—I’m going to go check real fast, but it might take me a bit to get there.”

“You—” Raph pauses, “You don't want me to come with you, do you?”

“No, bud—” it's hard for Leo to watch Raph’s eyes fall to the ground, filled with frustrated tears. “Hey, hey.” Leo steps forward and, in the same way he did with Donnie, puts a hand on the back of Raph’s head and puts their temples together. “You’re a turtle of action. You do an amazing job keeping us safe. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now. But this? This is helping a ton. I wouldn’t have been able to help Donnie like I did without you. But I need you to stay here in case Donnie comes back.”

After a breath, Raph looks at him again and, though a tear runs down his face. He gives a shaky smile and a nod that Leo makes sure to return.

“That’s my man. Keep the soup warm, and if Dad gets back before us, just tell him the truth, but don't say anything before they get back. He and Mikey are having fun and if anyone deserves that, it's them.” He releases Raph. He hurries to Mikey’s room long enough to grab a duffel bag with a piece of purple duct tape wrapped around the handle (alongside a few others with different color markings), returns to the kitchen, and stuffs a few more items from around the kitchen into his bag. Leo makes sure to give Raph one more encouraging smile. As he walks out of the lair, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s far enough away before he secures the duffel bag to his shell and breaks into a dead run.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not until Leo’s almost to the lair that the terrain gets treacherous. Splinter and Draxum never talked about how the Battle with Shredder went down, but it wrecked everything underground for almost a two-mile radius. And in the times they returned to their former home to collect any resources that had survived, Mikey would always cling to someone's arm with a death grip until they left again. The youngest of them had been the only one brave enough to manifest how it had felt to come back to their ruined home.

Because of the momentum from running, Leo’s able to easily vault over several broken slabs of concrete, jump over wide gaps in the ground that revealed sewer tunnels underneath, and walk through the makeshift tunnel they had dug out to make treks to their old home easier. It takes him a minute to shimmy though until he finds himself doubling over, gasping for air in the wrecked remains of their childhood home.

Like every time he's visited, he freezes for a moment with his breath caught in his chest. He reaches a trembling hand up and feels his mask tails. He can still remember the jerk from when Shredder nearly cut his head off. The panic as he watched their home cave in around them, feeling powerless. Helpless.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories since then.

He shakes out his trembling hands and moves through the lair. At this point in time, because of the open water pipes and gathering moisture, algae and grass have begun to replace their presence here (which, in a way, was a blessing if anyone ever came down to fix the pipes). But the only remaining color comes from the still hanging torn purple curtain that Donnie had refused to take with him. He hovers at the entrance for a moment; he knows better than anyone how overbearing he can be and he will never quite forgive himself for how he reacted during the Yokai Mart incident. But he knows better now, he hopes. He raises his hand and knocks gently on the frame of the opening.

“Dee? It's me. Is it OK if I come in and hang out for a bit?” he asks, fully knowing there’s a good chance Donnie isn’t there and, even if he is, he isn’t sure what to expect as a response. But Leo watches the curtain twitch for a moment, as though someone is trying to pull it open without having the energy to do so. Leo grips the straps of his duffel bag tighter before ducking in.

Most of Don’s room had caved in during the attack, leaving the only viable sitting spot directly by the entrance where Leo sees him, curled up with his face in his knees. If he hadn’t seen Donnie try to pull the curtain open he would’ve thought he had simply fallen asleep again. He does a quick look-over to check for injury, but other than the large bruise on his bicep that has now fully formed against his sea-green skin, he's grateful to find nothing new. He looks around for a place to sit before deciding to sit by his side, giving him enough space that he hopes will help him feel comfortable. Now that he knows where Donnie is, he could relax and let out a deep breath, sinking down to give his now aching body a break.

For a moment he's satisfied with just sitting there, catching his breath. But out of the corner of his eye he watches Donnie for any sudden movements or signs that he wants Leo to leave. But he waits a bit before he speaks, until he knows it won't be hindered by his gasping breath.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Donnie’s voice is so quiet, he isn’t sure he hears him at first.

“I could say I’m a great detective. But I know you’d want to be somewhere no one would look for you…” He looks around the room, catching sight of a pile of rubble that had been moved recently, as though someone had moved things around to lay down. “How often do you come here now?” He sees Donnie flinch out of the corner of his eye and he knows he’s hit on a truth.

“A little? At first, just after the Invasion ’cause I needed to be somewhere to breathe, then a few days a week, then every night when everyone went to bed. I needed to be somewhere I could scream and shout without anyone coming running. I just.” He blinks hard. “I just wanted to go home.”

Leo has to look away to keep his eyes from welling up again, trying not to think about how many nights Donnie spent in this wreckage, not just for his mental health. But looking around, he’s reminded how unstable the wreckage is. If Donnie had hit his head, or fallen, how long would it have been before anyone had noticed? Or would they have just woken up one day and thought Donnie had run away? A thousand new nightmares vie for his attention, but he manages to take a deep breath and blink back tears of panic by reaching for the duffel bag.

“I brought it along in case it might help.”

“Unless there's a new coffee maker and ten-gallon thermos, I doubt it.”

“No, but there is water.” Leo can't help but smirk. “Before you murder me and feed me to your robotic worms, I know you haven't had any liquid that hasn’t been boiled to death by a coffee maker in a few days. I’ll make you some coffee tomorrow, but for right now, if you could stomach a bottle of water, I'd really appreciate it.”

Tired bloodshot eyes peer at him from over Donnie’s arms and he flinches in a way that Leo can tell means he’s trying to glare but doesn’t have the energy for it. He starts to unfurl himself. Leo checks again for any bruising he might have missed and is grateful not to see anything new. Without saying anything else, Leo holds out the bottle of water to him. Donnie, while still failing to glare at him properly, breaks the seal and takes a small sip at first, but it must trigger something in him, since he downs it in a matter of seconds. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand,

“Thanks,” Donnie says weakly, handing the empty bottle back.

“No problem, bud. Do you need anything else? I have modified Tylenol, Germ-X, hand wipes—”

“I think I'm OK for now. Well, as OK as I can be.” Donnie turns to face forward again, this time resting his head on his arms instead of hiding his face, which Leo takes as a good sign. “How bad was it?” he asks.

“Um.” Leo pauses, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn't hurt him. “Made one hell of a mess, but we picked up the pieces. You scared the shell off Raph.”

“Crap, Raph was there.” Donnie presses his face into his hands. “I must have stressed him out so bad.”

“A little, but he stayed calm, gave you your space, and didn’t ask a lot of questions. You would have been really proud of him.”

“Really?” Donnie looks to him again and Leo can see the tension leave his shoulders. He almost smiles before it fades again. “Can, can you tell me what happened?”

Leo blinks, “You don't remember?”

“Not really. I remember being in my room, I had a huge headache trying to organize those stupid boxes, I had a cup of coffee in my hands. I tried to take down a box from one of the taller stacks but I lost my balance and—and it fell and knocked me over. Hit me in the head, covering me in coffee. I just, I guess I lost it.” Donnie presses his face back into his knees. “I’ve never had a meltdown so bad I couldn’t remember it afterwards. I—I think,”—his voice cracks—“I think I'm falling apart.”

Leo instinctively reaches his arm up to pull him into his side and has to stop himself, reminding himself that Donnie doesn't like physical contact, but Donnie tilts and curls up into his side with all his weight, almost sending Leo falling on his side. And, after just a moment of shock, he wraps his arms around him and holds him tightly. It's in these moments Leo knows his failings, lacking the right words to say to make the pain go away. But as he rests his chin on Don's scalp and looks around the room, a soft chuckle escapes him.

“Hey,” he says softly to catch Don’s attention. “R—remember when we were little? And this used to be the quiet room? I was so jealous ’cause even though Dad said it was for everyone, it was obviously made with you in mind and I didn’t understand why we needed it. And I haaaaated the idea of being quiet.”

“You also said you hated me.”

For a moment he’s not sure he heard him right and looks down to him. “I—are you sure? I said that?”

“Yeah, but you were just a kid. I think I had been going through your comics and it set you off. If it helps, if it had been the other way around and I caught you going through my stuff, I would have said worse. Or rather, written an extremely hurtful grammatically solid letter and had someone else read it to you. I wasn’t exactly communicating verbally at the time.”

“Right,” Leo says, not that it made him feel any better. But Donnie must have sensed that, since he shifts around without pulling free to dig around in his belt.

“You felt so bad afterwards you made me these.” In his hand rest two small faded green figurines with worn edges, one with torn purple fabric and the other with blue. Leo smiles softly.

“I remember that part.” With his free hand he nudges the purple one enough to make the arm swing, having lost the grip in its socket a long time ago. “Didn’t you make one for Mikey and Raph?”

“I did, but they were lost when...”—Donnie gestures to the lair—“I started carrying these with me when I felt anxious. It helped me calm down; at least, it used to. Then we lost our home again ’cause some chewed up gum looking aliens from a direct to video The Blob lookalike decided to invade our world.” Donnie jerks his hands in a moment of frustration, an angry tear peeking at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Leo, I can't keep watching our homes, our lives, get upturned over and over again and be expected to go on with life. I’m not strong enough—”

“Hey.'' For the first time Leo leans away and takes Donnie by both of his shoulders. He doesn’t force eye contact, but this is as close as he gets to trying to get Donnie's full attention. “Struggling doesn’t make you or anyone weak. You think there’s medals out there for who can suffer the most, outside of reality TV? No! Dad always says that strength comes from helping and supporting each other. Are there people out there who see us cracking and think they see—see gold?! Maybe, but they don’t know us. They don’t see our family or the people who help hold us together.” Leo stops talking for a moment, and he takes a deep breath, far braver than he was before.

“I—I haven’t.” The trembling now has taken his voice, and it's noticeable enough for Donnie to look up at him. “I—I’m scared to sleep at night. I’m scared to the point where I’d rather stay up on nothing but pure spite and funny videos, because whenever I close my eyes, I see him. I see him, I feel his fists cracking.” Leo releases Don’s shoulders and holds his chest. He can still feel the outline of healing cracks that had once been barely held together with whatever yokai medicine Draxum made. “I feel the cold, Donnie. It was so cold there. And now, and now whenever I get caught in a cold breeze or open the freezer I just… choke,” he says, his voice breaking with a small sob.

Without hesitation, the arms of his most touch averse brother wrap around him. All the strength he had been trying to hold up for Donnie fails as he presses his face into Don’s shoulders. No tears but the trembling of terror as he clings to his brother.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donnie asks. “We’re your family. We would have supported you—”

“Because I saw Mikey and Raph going to therapy, I saw Casey adjusting to being a normal kid, and I saw you working hard. I thought, I hoped, I was the only one struggling, and if I ignored it, it would go away. It did when Mikey couldn’t sleep alone in his room and slept in mine for a few weeks. But it came back, and I know now that it's not going away on its own.” Another pause.

“We talked about this a while back; we made a deal that if one of us considered going to therapy, so would the other. I want to change that.”

Donnie shakes his head tiredly. “Leo—”

“I know you don’t want to go, and I’m not going to force you. But if you start going, so will I. And I’ll go with you to every one of your appointments, and you can go to all of mine if you want. Just so you know there’s someone waiting outside that room ready to support you. It doesn’t even have to be me! It can be Raph, or Dad or anyone you want. I’ll hire Jupiter Jim to go with you if that helps! And—and if you still feel like you need to come here to scream and vent, please tell me. I won't stop you. I'll come and we can scream together,” he says, hugging Donnie an inch tighter to him.

He’s not sure what to expect for a response. Then, Donnie lets out a weak, tearful “What if they tell me I was born wrong? What if they tell me I’m so damaged that they can’t do anything about it?”

“Well, first of all you have three—” Leo pauses. “Four brothers, three sisters and a former action star dad who will wipe the floor with any ableist piece of trash who says that. And if it's not the perfect fit, we’ll find someone who is. It doesn't even have to be forever; we can just go until we eat all the free candy they keep in the lobby.”

“There’s free candy?” Donnie says with a weak laugh.

“There’s always free candy. I actually got banned from going with Mikey to his appointments because of that. Then Splinter started going and he almost got banned ’cause he started fighting some eighty-year-old lady for the last red jolly rancher, and they had to call animal control an—” He stops when he hears a weak chuckle come from Donnie. And for the first time, Leo’s face lights up. “Hey, don't laugh! It was a fiasco! They had to call the fire department! Draxum had to come bail him out of jail. Jail, Donald!” he says with loud emphasis, gesturing dramatically with his free hand while the other’s still holding Donnie around the shoulders. “And worse! WORSE THAN THAT!!” he says even louder, to be heard over Donnie’s laughter he can’t smother with his hands. “He had the audacity, the AUDACITY, to wait till it was midnight to come to bail Splinter in his bathrobe, slippers and Starbucks. STARBUCKS, DONNIE!!! Like is there a bigger slap to the face than arriving late with Starbucks, Donatello!? I think not—”

“Stop stop—” Donnie wipes his streaming eyes with his hands. “Stop, I hate it when you make me laugh—”

“Only because it's one of the few times you admit I’m hilarious.” Leo grins before he finally lets himself laugh. He laughs harder than he has in a long time, leaving tears of laughter streaming down his face. And, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s nice to laugh in a place that had once held all their best memories.

Finally, what feels like too soon, their laughter fades into chuckles then ends altogether. And for a moment the pain and trauma feels far away.

“I’ll go,” Don finally says. “If you go.”

Leo smiles and reaches out, taking his brother’s hand into his. “Thank you for being the brave twin,” he says.

“Please,'' Donnie says with an eye roll, but he can’t stop smiling. He looks around Leo to the duffel bag. “So why do you have a duffel bag full of things I like?”

“It was something Mikey’s therapist thought of. It's called a Mental Health First Aid Kit. In case of, well.” He gestures. “Things like this. I helped him put one together for all of us. There’s even one for Splinter, April, Draxum, Casey and… Casey.” Leo blinks. “Yeah, that's going to be confusing. I even brought your weighted blanket if you needed it.”

“No, I don't want to fall asleep out here. I’ve done that too many times.” Donnie sighs as he closes his eyes, leaning again on his brother. As Leo resumes putting his arm around him, his phone lets out a chirp and he pulls it out. He lets out a sigh as he turns the screen so Donnie can see it.

“Dad’s home and wanted to check in with us. He says there’s no pressure but Raph can come pick us up with the Turtle Tank. He also said April can pick us up but giving, um, Future Casey’s driving and…” he let it drift off with an almost nauseous look on his face

“Yeah no, I’m not getting in the same car as him again. Never before had I been so grateful for a cop to try and pull us over.” Donnie lets out a shiver and Leo has to remember to ask for that story later (the only thing he knew was that Donnie and Future Casey had to push the car home in twelve different pieces that had somehow become infused in jello).

“Cool, and if you're ready, I can help you set up your new bed and you can sleep in your room tonight.”

“I,” Don pauses. “I’m not ready for that yet, but you can if you want. Maybe I can crash in your room for a bit till I am ready. And maybe it'll help you get a good night’s sleep as well.”

Leo’s mouth trembles for a moment as he smiles softly. “My hero.” he says.

It would be great to get rid of those heated blankets. Don scoots back and leans again into Leo’s side, pausing for a moment before digging into the duffel bag on Leo’s other side and fishing out the weighted blanket (he must have changed his mind). He gives Leo’s shoulder a small tug, an indication for him to lean forward to wrap one corner around his shoulders before wrapping himself in the other and sinking into his side again. Within moments, Donnie is back asleep and Leo leaves, enjoying the soothing weight of the blanket on his shoulders and his brother by his side. For the last time that day, he blinks back the fear that has been threatening to consume and breathes out with the realization that everything will be OK before drifting off as well.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not till he hears the sound of footsteps that Leo realizes he’s fallen asleep. Jerking into a more upright position, he instinctively tightens his grip on Don, who is still waking up, and reaches for one of his katanas. But after a moment he recognizes the footsteps.

“Leo? Donnie?” calls out Raph,

“Over here!” he calls. Leo starts rubbing Don's arm with his opposite hand. “Wake up, bud, our ride’s here.”

“So that's why I smell Raph’s ‘driving after five PM’ stink?” Donnie asks groggily, wiping at his eyes and making Leo chuckle softly. The curtain flaps a moment later as Raph steps through. Leo has a split second to notice the anxiety in Raph's eyes fade as they fell on the two and he moved over, crouching down in front of them. He brings his hands up for a moment as though ready to pull them both into a hug right then and there but he takes a deep breath.

“Are you two alright?” Raph asks, eyes once again looking over them for signs of injury or distress.

“We’re as good as it gets. Near perfection but a different shade of green,” Donnie says with a half tired shrug.

“Th—that's great! That's good. Great—” with each positive affirmation Leo can see Raph mentally willing back the energy till it’s barely contained with his relieved eyes. But before Leo can say anything, Donnie reaches up and takes Raph’s bicep. Though he’s not nearly strong enough to move Raph, he gives a slight tug which gives Raph the direction, albeit confused look on his face, to scoot closer. Close enough to lean forward and give him a small one armed hug around the neck as he rests his forehead on Raph’s shoulder.

“I know Leo already told you, and you know I hate saying he was right, but you did a really good job today. I know it's hard for you to let someone else take charge when it comes to us. You’re an amazing older brother, and I’m just as lucky to have you in my life as I am to have Dad, Mikey and Leo. Never forget that.”

Raph looks over to Leo for a moment as though for verification. Leo gives him a small nod, which is all that is needed for Raph’s eyes to swell up with big Raph tears as he trembles. His arms go up to hug Donnie, trembling in a way that told Leo he was hugging with only a fraction of the strength he wanted to.

“I’m always here for you, Don.” Leo lets out a soft smile as he reaches forward and gives Raph a gentle rub on the shoulder as the two hold each other for a few moments. But as Donnie goes to pull away, Raph respects his wishes and does so as well, using his wrist to wipe at his eyes. But Donnie keeps a grip on his wrist for a moment, drawing Raph’s attention back to him.

“I—It won't be tonight, but I think there’s a lot we have to talk about, with Dad.” Donnie looks over to Leo. After a moment of hesitation, the red slider nods as well, giving him permission. “Leo does too.”

Leo gives a weak smirk. “Yeah, turns out memes aren’t a great coping mechanism.”

“No.” Raph wipes the last of his tears on his arm. “No, but we are good at being there for eachother as a family. And if you’re up for it, I can get you two home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at the tank,” Leo says. Raph gives them both one last look-over before ducking out of the room. Leo starts to pack up the duffel bag as Don rubs at his eyes. But as he goes to stand, his leg trembles before he falls back down. Donnie reaches over and catches him by the shell, but not fast enough to spare his elbow from the hard pavement.

“Ow jeez—”

“Are you alright?” Donnie asks, giving him the same overprotective look-over that Raph had given them.

“Um, yeah, I think so. I sorta ran all the way here and I think my perfect body is punishing me for it,” he says with a nervous laugh. Donnie’s eyes widen for a moment and Leo regrets saying anything till Donnie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles.

“I’ll help you, dum dum,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out.

Leo smiles and takes it. The two of them are able to pull each other eac hother up to their feet, but as Leo’s legs tremble again, Donnie ducks underneath his arm.

“It’s OK, I got you,'' Donnie says. Leo wants to protest, but he can already feel his sore leg’s relief. So instead of pulling free, he puts Donnie’s arm over his neck as well and the two make their way out of the ruined remains of their former home.

They were not made of gold.

They were made of love.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #raph #tmnt #trauma #dont even think about it shippers #Raph is in this?! how can it be! #shut up dennis!

[acti-veg]

Is it just me or are there a lot of vegan terfs ? As a trans vegan person I'm so tired of seeing them in the notes of the decent vegan blogs. And it's not just on tumblr, I've seen it on other social media platforms and IRL. Why. (side note: I've seen it in France too, not just the English-speaking world)

No there definitely are a lot of them. I am really not sure why this is, I have a theory but I’ve really nothing to base it on other than my own observations over the years. I think the mere fact that someone has gone vegan means they are open to ‘alternative narratives’, and those narratives can either be very positive ones or very negative. I’d be willing to bet we also see higher rates of anti-vaxxers than the general population as well, for the same reason.

Veganism obviously has absolutely nothing to do with either of these movements, but it may be that they both appeal to the same sort of appearance of questioning of an established narrative. The issue with terfs specifically is that they only appear to be rejecting an established narrative because they frequent spaces like this one that tend to be generally trans inclusive. Here, they feel like outsiders fighting for a niche cause, but outside of places like tumblr trans exclusion is still very much the norm and terfism is socially conservative in every way.

Most terfs have more in common with flag waving right wingers and fundamentalists than they do your average leftist. This is why it feels so completely bizarre to see terfs who are socially regressive in predominantly progressive spaces like vegan communities, it’s so much more noticeable because it is so far from what we generally hold to be true and important.

I think the terf movement represents a real corruption of the very valuable drive to question established narratives, in the same way that conspiracy theorist and anti-vax groups do. It takes that valuable natural scepticism and just turns it against people who are already excluded from established moral frameworks and legal protections. Trans people are precisely the kind of people who really should be benefiting from scepticism of dominant narratives, because the dominant narrative very much already excludes them.

As a community all we can really do is exclude these people from engagement with our cause as much as possible. Don’t argue with them, don’t give their harmful views the time of day and don’t give them a platform to air them, even if it’s to challenge or debunk them. If we want to be inclusive of our trans friends we cannot do the same for the people trying to exclude them. Block these accounts whenever you see them and move on.

#ask #terfs #feminism #trans issues #they’ll come out if the woodwork for this one #and I’ll block them

[shanemcretro]

New Year, New Something That Rhymes with Year

Technically I’m still the same, but my hammock is weirdly outdoors. For the first time in years I have an outdoor area. I’m no longer trapped in a box. I hate apartments. At the same time, urban sprawl isn’t good from an environmental standpoint either. Maybe the answer lies in population reduction? I’m doing my part!

We’ve got cicadas out here in the wastelands. The floury baker cicadas are still about, the one above was intercepted from a noisy miner (Manorina melanocephala) but had catastrophic wing damage at the joint. He was laid to rest that same afternoon. Just because something can suffer, doesn’t mean it should. Rest easy little one.

We’ve also held our first barbecue without incident. My diet remains mostly vegan, thanks to reduced pressure on rent. The only big exception is salmon which will probably be replaced eventually again.

The garden though, and being able to have plants outdoors in the sunlight. What a game changer. I’ve made an active decision to let dandelions take over the buffalo grass. They mow down quite well.

Looks better than any buffalo grass I’ve ever seen. Function over form I say. When they are at full growth, they provide pollen for the bees (native and European), harbour lots of little bug jumpers, which in turn feed the lizards that roam the grass. A little sad when a common blackbird (Turdus merula) snaps up a few, but as long as I can keep the bugs plentiful the lizards should thrive.

Not everything has been rosy though. My first plant casualty, lavender. I had high hopes for it, but since I don’t really know what I am doing it kind of died. Farewell lavender.

My native beehives have been doing well, attracting a few different species of native masked bee (Genus Hylaneus) as well as native wasps (possibly Genus Pison). Both are ridiculously tiny and harmless to us.

Then you’ve got the other bugs, like the pictured assassin bug nymph, Pristhesancus plagipennis. It’s ready to drink the brains of the next honeybee that lands nearby.

And now I’m back on the Apple Watch train with my shiny new Apple Watch SE 2. This time around I’ve picked out the smaller of the two and went with the 40mm. And I have to say, I do not miss the bulk of the 44mm. The Apple Watch is a great motivator to stay on track with new year health goals.

Wait that’s not the image I was looking for… that’s more dandelions!

Whoops, that’s another floury baker cicada. I think the several that were in this tree were eaten by the local bat population as they’ve been silent for a while now.

And that’s Stumpie. Tail growth is coming along well. If I find him running about while I’m mowing the lawn I’ll move him into a lizard hotel plastic tub until I’m done.

Don’t look at me like that Stumpie. We don’t want any repeats of how you got the name Stumpie after all!

Then we’ve got this little guy still rocking about, a bar-sided skink (Concinnia tenuis). After being trapped by a redback spider (Latrodectus hasselti). Luckily for the lizard I noticed…

And here’s the data I wanted to show. Weight loss is beginning again. You might notice a drop almost immediately after becoming unemployed, then a spike to >100 kg when I ran out of money thanks to Sydney’s rental market being unaffordable for a single person – let alone an unemployed single person.

Sure, I could have killed myself easily enough but chose to do the paradigm shift thing. Is it enough of a shift? That’s still an unknown at this point. At least for now, there are real life distractions everywhere which seems to leave very little time for uploading videos. Not such a bad thing I guess. That’s not to say I haven’t been recording new footage.

Better go and check the garden is still there and get my 30 minutes of exercise in. Target weight is set at 75 kg this time around. Roughly 20 kg of weight loss to go, and while transitioning. Should be one heck of a ride. 🤷‍♀️

#floury baker #cicada #trans #green space #bees #lizards #stabby bug #consumerism extreme edition #stumpie #sonic adventure dx director's cut is on sale... again #sweet potato #why don't images show from my website anymore? What did I break? #the images make the story but they are on my website d'oh #australia #we have no housing rights

[agro-carnist]

Oh my God on the “plant-based diets are healthier” thing

I’m intolerant to beef (not red meat, JUST beef) and sensitive to dairy. Coupled with a family history of bizarrely and dangerously high cholesterol, it was a no-brainer for me to buy fewer cow products when I figured this out. Sure, it made some recipes trickier, but it ended in me finding some great new foods, both animal and plant-based.

But then I see some hardcore capital-V Vegans pointing to the same conditions I have as a reason to go vegan and I’m like… what? My fucked-up stomach and arteries don’t exist as a talking point! I didn’t ask to have them!

Medical conditions should never be in the same discussion as a moral choice. It’s not a Good Person thing to avoid meat for medical reasons, just like it’s not a Bad Person thing to eat it for medical reasons. It’s just keeping yourself healthy.

Honestly, a lot of it just bleeds into the territory of “disability is a moral failing” and I Do Not Like It

They love to use medical conditions to support their side but won't acknowledge people that say they have a medical condition that means they can't be vegan

[softthrillz]

Endurance Athlete Feedist Daydreams

It’s nearing the end of marathon season and my last big race is coming up this weekend, and I haven’t been able to get this special vision of how a feedist relationship in which one partner is an avid distance runner/endurance athlete might play out. We runners have to eat a lot, and I often have trouble getting in enough calories to maintain my weight, balancing out my energy output with enough input. It’s not been my most grueling training plan, but I consistently run about 80 miles a week, and sometimes the intensity of my workouts can ironically make it a bit harder to work up an appetite. I couldn’t help but wondering what it’d be like to have a fat cutie by my side during this training period, what it might be like in the future.... I envisioned a plush partner who loves to eat and cook, loving baking, experimenting with different macro ratios to optimize for things like pre-workout fueling needs and post-workout recovery--snacking all throughout on these various baked goods, encouraging me when I have trouble eating because of the toll intense training can take on the stomach/digestive system (not to mention the exhaustion). Eating my leftovers is just a bonus, of course. Coming back from a long run on the weekend to a shower shake on the counter and a kiss on the cheek as they’re making the fixing for chimichangas--unquestionably a true breakfast of champions (a shower shake is a post-run shake you can just bring with you and drink in the shower lmao--like a shower beer--needless to say, we runners are weird lol--I mean, we just enjoy running around for hours, no surprise there haha), all the while sipping a shake of their own, because why not? Gotta keep their belly nice and topped off. Don’t mind the bits of tofu scram, breakfast potatoes, and soyrizo they’ve been tasting throughout the morning--that’s just being a proper chef! Gotta taste before you waste. Or something like that. Bringing back burgers, fries, and shakes from that new vegan diner down the street one evening after work, enough for my fill, and a daring amount for my tubby love. I help feed them as they start to slow down, offering them sips of their milkshake in between bites, simultaneously cooling them down and filing them up with an absolutely divine oat- and tahini-based chocolate shake. Rubbing their big, inviting belly, pushing along the sides and upper arch in strategic moves to alleviate errant pressure.  “Good job, baby, you ate so much for me,” I’d say.  After languidly basking in the haze of their hedonistic fullness, they likewise help me, noticing I’ve only eaten half my burger and a few sips of my shake. Knowing I ran 16 miles earlier that morning and that I have a sensitive stomach, one soft-but-sure arm comes around to gently hold me around my ribs, pulling me closer, leaning against their squishy side, their other hand coming to slowly brush gently across my stomach. ”Stomach giving you trouble? You need to finish that darling, let me help you,” they’d tell me. After working through our respective meals, in a sneakily caring plan to get more food into me after an intense week of training, they bring out some Tupperware filled with the pastries and other goods they baked to munch on while catching up on a show that night, ending up eating 3 or 4 or 5 for every one they got in me, but it works for us, for both of our goals, seemingly divergent, but actually at least parallel, harmonious even. Serving one another in this interesting feedist dynamic, where the feedee and feeder live outside of a rigid feedism binary and moreso in a synergistic space of care and affection and heat, realistically adaptable to situational realities, but familiar in many ways beyond those unique personal qualities.  Gosh, I can imagine finishing a race and seeing their cherubic cheeks bunched up in a laughing cheer, holding a sign in one hand and a snack in the other, falling into the soft, plush, pillowy form of an absolute babe, feeling flush and wild and electric with that post-race energy, the crowd still cheering as fellow runners cross the finish line. “I’m so proud of you, darling,” I imagine they’d tell me as I catch my breath, “you made it!” Cheekily, I might look at them mischievously and say, “wanna go help reup my glycogen stores?” And with a brilliant grin they’d reply, absentmindedly rubbing their ever-burgeoning belly in anticipation “of course baby, I’ve been planning this feast for AGES. First we’re going to go to...” I’d lovingly gaze at them as they guide me in my post-race daze back to the car, excited to eat hard after a long 26.2 miles on the road--and ensure my partner more than matches me and then some while we’re at it.... Yeah, I can definitely envision that.😌

#text #this has just been on my mind #among other scenarios within this context #a runner encourager/feeder and a feedee #I think it's actually kind of beautiful in a way #Sometimes mainstream feedism is contextualized in a way that doesn't seem super conducive to realistic relationships #And so I find that realism brought into feedism is just super hot--sweltering #Not in place of anything that already popularly exists--just as an addition to the lovely feedism mosaic of this modern world haha #soft feedism #queer feedism #sapphic feedism #nonbinary feedism #wg text #weight gain text #wg story #weight gain story #gaining weight #feedist text #feedist #wg kink #feedist thoughts #feedist imagines #gluttony #hedonism #plush partner is also some cute feedism alliteration imo

[alsjeblieft-zeg]

082 of 2023

Are astrological signs at all important in a match?

No, it’s all bullshit to me.

Would you strongly prefer to go out with someone of your own skin color and/or racial background?

No. Both of my exes happen to be white, and so is my husband (although he looks quite ‘southern’, if you know what I mean; dark eyes, dark hair and darker complexion), but I don’t think I’d ditch someone just because of their skin colour. Everyone can be beautiful and I found many black and Asian people aesthetically pleasing.

Say you’ve started seeing someone you really like. As far as you’re concerned, how long will it take before you have sex?

Years. I’m not into this whole sex thing. If I decide to do it, it will be only to please them.

What’s the most exciting thing about getting to know someone new?

Curiosity about what they’re like, what they like, all that.

Is jealousy healthy in a relationship?

To an extent, I think. Overly jealous = toxic and overpowering.

What’s your relationship with marijuana?

I’m not against it.

In a certain light, wouldn’t nuclear war be exciting?

No. It’s fucking dangerous. I’m very interested in ionising radiation, so I know what would be the potential consequences.

How do you feel about the word “queer”?

I’m not bothered. Call yourself anything you want, it’s your choice.

Are you either vegetarian or vegan?

As close to vegetarian as possible. I still allow chicken and fish in my diet, but I try to avoid red meat because I don’t like it.

How do you feel about vegetarianism and what are your views on veganism?

Both are okay, but I’m not fond of extremists who try to force their beliefs on others. You’re vegan, fine. But don’t look down on people who are not.

Should evolution and creationism be taught side-by-side in school?

Yeah, so then children can see the difference and later decide which they believe in.

For you personally, is abortion an option in case of an accidental pregnancy?

I don’t want to speak up about it. First of all, it’s irrelevant to me because I’m a man. Second, it’s your decision because if there are consequences, you will be the one who bears them, not anyone else. So in my book, do whatever the hell you want and what you feel is the best for you. Nobody’s gonna experience it for you anyway.

Once you’re intimate, how often would you and your significant other have sex?

Ideally, never. But in reality, he does need sex sometimes, but I try to keep it at an absolute minimum, because I’m not into sex.

How often are you open with your feelings?

Very rarely. I don’t know how to talk about them.

Could you date someone who was really quiet?

Sure. My husband is not much of a talker, neither am I, and we get along perfectly.

Is it a requirement that you communicate every day with your significant other?

Well, we live together, so it can’t be avoided. :P In any case, I think leaving some space is healthier than being too clingy.

Are you fetish-friendly?

No, I’m fetish-indifferent. Do whatever you like, just not with me please.

Straight women who kiss or fondle each other in clubs in the hopes of attracting men are…?

Not interesting to me, but I’m gay anyway, so.

Which is worse: starving children or abused animals?

What about abused children? All of these are horrible. There’s no better or worse.

Do you look better dressed or naked?

Dressed, hands down. There aren’t so many people who are fond of dudes whose bones stick out.

How do you feel about foreskins?

Better with than without. Also on myself.

Is there at least one nude photo of you on the net?

I don’t think so. I’ve never sent nor posted anything like that anywhere.

Have you ever cosplayed?

No, never. I’m not really interested in it.

Is it wrong to sleep in a bed and/or cuddle with a friend of the sex(es) you’re attracted to when you’re in an exclusive relationship with someone else?

As long as you don’t do sexual things together, I don’t see a problem.

If you had your own private hot tub, would you go nude in it?

Most likely. If it’s private, then it’s private, what else is there to say.

Is it wrong to cultivate or manufacture illegal drugs?

Well, they’re illegal for a reason.

How do you feel about government-subsidized food programs?

Depends on the government. Every country does it differently, I guess.

Do you believe that heterosexual pornography is degrading to women?

Many of them decide to enter the industry and they know what they’re doing. If someone is forced to do it, then it’s degrading for sure.

Do you support the exploration of outer space and if yes, would you consider taking a trip into space, or even to another planet?

Sure, it’s just natural to be curious. But I doubt I’d ever go to space. I find it kinda scary.

Could you have respect for someone after having sex with them on the first meeting or date?

My relationship started off as friendships, and in such case I don’t see any problem with sex on a first date because you already know each other pretty well. Speaking of that, I definitely wouldn’t lose my respect.

Is it okay for men to wear makeup, and what’s your opinion of male cross-dressers?

"Everyone has the right to freedom of opinion and expression". It’s a quote from a song and I live by it. Let people be who they want to be.

In terms of sex, how experienced would your ideal mate be with people other than you?

I couldn’t care less.

Do you often find yourself worrying about things that you have no control over?

All the time. My anxiety is bad.

Do you spend more money on clothes or food?

Still food, but only because there’s three of us, plus two cats.

Is a girl who’s slept with 100 guys a bad person, and is a guy who’s slept with 100 girls a bad person?

If you have a good personality, it doesn’t matter how many people you sleep with. As long as you don’t hurt people with it.

You’re in a new relationship and your partner admits that they have had 14 sexual partners; does that sound like a lot to you?

It does, but only because I’m not sexual. On long term, it doesn’t really matter, but I’d be a bit afraid of being pushed to be another one.

Do you feel like you’re still hurting from something that happened to you a long time ago?

Yeah, scars from sexual abuse never really heal.

Do you attempt to conserve water, energy or other resources during your everyday life?

I don’t have to worry about it as a person with disability.

When chatting with a potential friend or significant other online, is use of proper grammar and spelling important to you?

I don’t believe in online relationships.

Would you let your children under 13 watch movies with full nudity?

No children for me, thanks.

If someone asked you, “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”, would you know the answer right away?

No. It doesn’t mean I’ve never done anything bad. It means there was a bit of it and I wouldn’t know what to choose.

Once you take a moral position, can anything be said or done to change your mind?

I don’t think so. I always try to see from both perspectives anyway.

Will you teach your children to believe in Santa?

No children. Not at all.

Outside of work and school, how inclined are you to investigate something that interests you?

Very much so. I’m really dedicated to my interests.

If a blind date used a coupon while paying for dinner, how would you feel?

I wouldn’t even go on a blind date. I don’t see the point.

What’s your opinion concerning strip clubs?

To each their own. Not for me, though.

Imagine that you’re given $1,000,000 and told you must give it to one of the following political causes. Where do you donate the money: right to free speech, right to bear arms, pro-choice causes or anti-abortion causes?

Right to free speech, but none of these is 100% appealing to me.

Could you be in a relationship with someone who had been previously sexually abused?

Sure. I’m that person as well. And even outside that, I’ve never been into sex. I don’t need it in my life and certainly I would understand the pain of my partner, speking from my own experience.

Under the right circumstances, would you allow a partner to lick your anus?

Ew. Ass is for shitting, change my mind.

Is there any aspect of your sexuality that you would be too embarrassed to ever share with a match?

What match? I don’t use dating apps.

Have your sexual interests become kinkier as you’ve grown older?

No. I’ve never had sexual inerests.

#survey #q&a survey #random survey

[ajokeformur-ray]

Heyyy! I just wanted to hop on the post you made about the vegan things (absolutely no hate btw it’s just really interesting!)

I think despite the fact that a lot of products might not have animal products in them, things like cleaner/makeup and such can still be tested on animals so it’s not all to do with the meat side of things… I mean apparently some toilet rolls have gelatine in them, which is kinda crazy 😅

I eat/drink a lot of plant based things due to allergies but I’m not vegan because I literally wouldn’t be able to eat anything if I was lol 🤣But I do think it’s a really good thing, especially for the environment! And it’s great to see more and more plant based products that are not just food related hit the shelves for sure… I do draw the line at the whole “if you’re not vegan this” or “if you don’t eat meat that” kinda thing though… we’re entitled to our own opinions after all and some folk physically/financially just can’t sustain it or it’s just a case of personal preference on both sides <3

Hey, nonnie!

No hate from my end either!! That was a throwaway post with throwaway tags and I wasn't expecting anyone to read it😂 that's true, but generally speaking most products which don't test on animals are marketed as "cruelty free" or "not tested on animals", at least here in the UK they are. I can't speak for other countries but here typically they've always been marketed as not vegan specifically, but "animal friendly". For me, it goes a bit too far when these labels are removed and it's just "plant based X"... So is it made of plant materials AND tested on animals? Is it cruelty free? There's a definite trend of removing these specifications and marketing toilet paper as plant based seems a bit ridiculous to me because of course? Paper? Is plant based?🙃 I didn't know gelatine could be used in toilet paper!!! Can't say I'm surprised though.😬

I understand on the allergy front🫂😭 gluten free and vegetarian and vegan are often looped together which actually isn't all that good for people like me with coeliacs disease because we're at risk of developing other food allergies like dairy if we don't maintain upkeep (if we're not already allergic, coeliacs disease comes with so many comorbid conditions and allergies that it's a total nightmare unless you watch yourself like a hawk for the rest of your life). So when I have to buy gluten free foods, it's almost always and annoyingly (for me) vegan. It's annoying not because I'm anti vegan (though that is also true) but because I then have to buy animal products - meat and dairy - to put on those foods to compensate. It's almost impossible to find a gluten free pizza with animal products on the top of it, as an example. And it makes my already expensive food even MORE expensive. This is where my irritation stems from because I'm then forced to buy vegan products and that makes me feel like I support veganism, when I 10000% don't. No hate to people who do, but it's not for me and I have to sometimes go against my own preferences and then spend more money to make my expensive food as I want it - to contain plenty of meat and other animal products. All of my meals include animal products. ALL of them.💖

I'm very anti vegan, I won't lie, and I know it's an incredibly nuanced and detailed discussion which I'm not all that prepared for BUT I'm happy to discuss it further with you😭I agree, we're all entitled to opinions and preferences and I support people in what they wanna do with their own bodies, but I draw the same lines you do!!! It's fine if person A is a vegan but if person A then gets rude to person B about the fact they eat meat, THAT'S when I have a problem. I view religion in the same way. It's fine if you are, but please don't try to get me to live as you do.

#please read this as a friendly discussion!!! no hate or shade or anything i swear it's all friendly💖

[augustusfires11]

The boredom of gods and mortals

I need espresso beans—love? Can you pass me that small black jar?”

“You’re going to need to be more specific. I'm looking at 12 and all of them smell cursed.”

“Don’t touch those! I mean the small black jar with the silver—NO gold trim!”

“Mhmm, yes, that narrows it down to about 7. Looks like we’re getting somewhere! Mind if I play a game of eenie-meenie-miney-mo to—“

‘No chance! We’re trying to summon Loki—“

“…who is god mischief and loves all things chaotic!”

“Okay, yes…but…”

“If it fails we can do the thing.”

“You mean the thing with bunny ears and fluffy handcu—“

“YES! That thing.”

“AHH! I’m so excited—“

‘That’s if this fails.”

“Right!! Right! Right! Okay!”

Gods are fickle beings and pretty much do whatever the hell they want. Witches and priests, celebrities and gays at their wits end try to find them. They brew teas, stitch poppets, light shit on fire, fuck themselves in front of a mirror—all so they can feel their presence—but no amount of recipes or divination spells will get them to come. In the end, you have to catch them on a day when they’re bored.

Today? Loki was fucking bored. Today? Two witchy gays want something to talk about after they finished fuxking to the Heathers soundtrack. Today? Their little sanctuary smells like sensuality—dark chocolate mingling with baked goods and a bowl of surprisingly well seasoned vegan fried chicken. Okay, that last one Loki probably could’ve done without, but fuck it! They seemed like a decent way to kill time. And hey, if not? Satan’s eternal booty call still stood.

“Okay, so you’re going with that one, right?”

Blue hair—punk rocker blue, not frost blue, Loki noted. British accent, pale skin, Pink tee…as in, Pink the singer, though, the tee was also pink. She looks smug.

“Yep. Thdt one.”

Short fade, one silver stud in their ear, brown eyes and skin. Also looks smug. They have a well-loved tank top and smell of denial.

“Oh, god of chaos, hear our—“

Alright, no. Loki has decided that he does not, in fact, wish to be prayed to or called “dear” anything. He’s also decided that for now, he’s a dude. He marveles at their faces that honestly look less surprised than he would’ve liked. The blue haired girl seems mildly annoyed if anything. Loki has officially done a cunt block and he finds it very amusing.

“See? I told you!”

“Damnit, you did.”

“Well?”

“Well, what? This was your idea. You just called me here for—“

“Moral support!”

“He’s a Nordic god. I’m sure he knows about—“

‘Shhh. Okay! Wow, um…Loki……”

Loki is hoovering, mid-air, appearing to them in riot gear.

“Yes, I am, in fact, Loki.” She tilts her head to the side, her voice softening, hair and nails that were already painted black grow until they look like very small knives.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance~”

She throws a wink at the person with one stud and finally decides to stop being lazy and learn their name. She scrapes the very surface of their brain and finds the name Kayla. But it’s faded, almost illegiblely so. She moves a little further—not far enough to snoop, mind you. She’s decided that there are some things even she doesn’t desire to know. She finds it there, tucked in the corner, in bold letters. Arden.

Arden just rolls their eyes, good naturedly and looks lovingly at Blake.

“So, why was I called here? if you don’t mind my asking.”

“Well,” Blake says, snapping out of whatever the opposite of post nut clarity is. “My girlfriend and I kind of just wanted to know if you were real…” She looks guilty, but she’s already in this far, so there’s no point stopping. “We were also kind of…sort of…a little bit…bored.”

Loki, now a dude again, gives them both a ‘oh, come the fuck on’ look. Even though he knows a few things these two love birds don’t. First, Arden didn’t agree to help with this because they had nothing better to do or even (mostly) because it would end in sex. A quick glance into Arden’s mind reveals a few things and all of them were pointing to what Loki will loving call, an egg. Secondly, this isn’t the first time they, Arden, have considered summoning them. And it probably won’t be the last. Thirdly, Blake is very much cheating on Arden and Arden is ignoring that instinct. As they talk, Loki decides to do what they—yes they—do best. They tamper with shit. They move the name a little closer to the front of their mind and consider increasing Arden’s suspicion, but instead, turn Blake’s guilt up by 5% for every hour that passes.

After they finish asking thier questions, they seem awkward so Loki blesses their space and all the witchy shit in it. She goes to see Satan.

“Fuck, love! He was incredible! I’m almost not upset that we can’t…you know…”

“We can do side B…if that’s what you want~”

“God, yes!”

And, for today, they are, to the best of their knowledge, a loyal girl with her handsome butch, knotted together under a duvet the color of crow feathers, making something that looks an awful lot like love.

#loki god of mischief #gendefluid #short story #witches #lgbtq #denial #lazy writing #norse deities

[pattonakhtar00]

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[anthonybialy]

Rich Kids

Corporations view humans as nothing more than a product to exploit for profit. Now, pay to kill a baby to save money. Abortion is an economic issue to those who understand finances as well as they do morality. They think they're being complimented. Those who are awful with money flaunt thoroughness by not grasping when life begins, either.

Born children harm the economy according to miscalculating hellions who grasp human nature in every way. The total drag of paying to feed living beings is treated like an annoyance, and not just because a great deal of the purported providers are vegans. Don't let a life dedicated to a low-protein lack of flavorful joy ruin existence for others. Compassion-mongers who think you're monstrous if you don't think the state must fund mealtime. You've got some nerve thinking the economy could be good. Who will fund handouts?

Perceiving humans as a burden is a telling view of oneself and others. It's supposed to be nice to consider others, but it turns out a percentage of us think everyone else weighs us down. Resentment aimed at living children surely inspires them. Remind the horrid brats that they were only born because of a choice if you need to keep them in line.

People will contribute, and not just love, which we've been told is priceless. There are profits involved, too. Humans create benefits, which shocks those who treat income as a finite pile of cash randomly assigned to certain lucky hoarders. Pretending the game is fixed is a reason to never play.

As for those who work instead of whining, they trade with each other, which means each offers something. Lives enhanced by what others bring is sort of the whole point. Fans of offing costly children loathe the thought that economics reflects human value.

Rare blessings don't just fall from the skies despite official White House policy. Any currency you happen to possess is proclaimed to be caused by random chance, which is why Democratic policies lead to a world where misery reigns. Good things seem as rare as they are arbitrary as a self-fulfilling prophecy. A person who cures cancer or invents a car that runs on garbage might be left in a dumpster before even starting life.

Scoffing at every true basic economic decision is popular among those who think sending newborns to dumpsters is even greater than clipping coupons. Prices are lowered by competition. That implies same competitors were carried to term. Performing some activity that others desire enough to pay implies people contribute by nature. Never letting them be born creates poverty in multiple senses.

Seeing infants as parasites is reflected in dreadful economic theories. Think East German, only gloomier. There's no hope of ever prospering on your own, so begging louder becomes a crucial survival skill. Fate apparently assigned most of the fortunes around, and plunderers made billions, according to very selfless modern views of reality. It never occurs to those with inherently despondent takes on people and money that offering what others desire might lead to greater wealth for both transaction sides.

Lack of alleged guarantees explains why those whose habit of never quite thinking things creates unearned smugness often announce how Republicans care about babies right up until they're born. The smirk fades upon explaining that there's nothing compassionate about an endless welfare state. An expectation for taxpayers to subsidize children well through legal adulthood spurs endless immaturity. Treating life as inherently communal conveniently provides another chance to dodge responsibility if they screw up and allow a kid to come into the world.

Oh, yeah: there's the killing part. Creating economic utopia by letting politicians you wouldn't trust to feed fish to spend plundered income on projects that never get funded voluntarily for good reason is just about to pay off. I know it deep down. The only thing worse than handing over your money is handing over the notion of when life begins.

Letting a baby get born embodies personal responsibility, which is the bane of their enemies. Unguarded fun may lead to consequences. Reality sure is mean. Abortion at will removes the reason to be careful if anyone's eager to learn about incentives. I know life isn't fun, at least not indefinitely, but ending it preemptively isn't the answer. A baby might also cause happiness if you're not careful.

Justifying pre-empting life by noting potential hardships and trauma is another way to rail against existence itself. Neglecting to concede that dying before even getting a chance might just be a bit worse is one way to counteract negativity. An unhealthy focus on how life inevitably contains struggles inadvertently expresses their dreadful outlook. It’s only one of the reasons the Supreme Court's enemies are miserable this time.

An ignorance overlap can't be coincidental. Those ghoulish enough to only endorse an investment in future savings if it regards abortion won't scrutinize economic data or a sonogram. Every cartoon depiction of a uterus used to demand men don't interfere with women's bodies depicts one that's empty. Learning about biology, economics, and morality all at once is apparently so overwhelming that there's no reason to even try.

It's regrettably easy to grasp why abortion aficionados think those permitted to enter the world create hardship. Anyone born has the capacity to contribute, which shocks those who've given up on ever contributing. Personal dedication to ducking hardship leads to presuming people who haven't even gotten a chance yet will have the same irrational fears. Aspiring professional protesters admit to their own lack of usefulness, which is useful in its way. Psychological projection leading to mass infanticide is a rather grave consequence.

There's more than money, which I thought liberals cherished. You can love babies the whole time. That shouldn't be a revelation, but we'll take one step at a time. Trying to save cash through abortion is inspirationally hopeful in the same way ending life before it begins is empowering. Treasuring life so little because of their own rather significant limitations is an awful thing to inflict on the potentially productive. Let children be born just to see if it works for the best.