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No, you should definitely keep calling it a kill switch. It helps describe my feelings on the matter.
I would also accept ai throttle. Not because I want to use levels of activity between fully on and fully off, but because I want to throttle the ai with my bare hands.
hello again everyone! i’ve decided to make a whole new masterpost for my beyblade subs, all the links in the old one died like a century ago and i’ve wanted to do things a bit differently anyway and. stuff. i’m slowly working on editing and uploading new versions that will replace the old files, but the old files will be available here for all the episodes i haven’t edited yet. (also i’m aware that there are other subs in existence by now too but i just like being thorough. plus i was asked to do this)
***what’s different in the new versions***
- well first of all they’re all available for hardsubbed streaming so you don’t need to download anything to watch
- improved translation, a fixed arial round font, overall better readability, no colour coding (it was difficult to maintain what colours i actually wanted to use lol), no changing font sizes etc
- uniform spellings for all the names and terms (i try to go with what’s more or less official. even though that’s kinda elusive in this franchise but. anyway)
- karaoke effects for opening & ending themes.
in the old files, all of the above is just chaos with no coherence. that’s why i’ll be replacing them. it’s going to take a while but i’m on it
the episodes are grouped in batches of tens below. google drive allows downloading an entire folder so you get the whole batch in one (depending on the folder view, the DL link changes places a bit but it’s at the top of the screen). or you can also just pick individual episodes.
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
BAKUTEN SHOOT BEYBLADE (season 1):
Episodes 01-10 **all new versions**
Episodes 11-20 **all new versions**
Episodes 21-30
Episodes 31-40
Episodes 41-51
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
BAKUTEN SHOOT BEYBLADE 2002:
Episodes 01-10
Episodes 11-20
Episodes 21-30
Episodes 31-40
Episodes 41-51
~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~ ~~~~
BAKUTEN SHOOT BEYBLADE G-REVOLUTION:
Episodes 01-10
Episodes 11-20
Episodes 21-30
Episodes 31-40
Episodes 41-52
also just an extra mention…. tumblr’s been giving me some shit with the episode urls so if some link doesn’t work, that’s tumblr’s fault not mine
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In case anyone reading my blog is unaware, this is a reference to the Green Day song titled “Wake Me Up When September Ends” a song that Billie Joe Armstrong wrote following the death of his father in September of 1982 when Billie Joe was ten years old. The title of the song references his desire to sleep through September in an effort to get some emotional distance from the death of his father.
He’s since been open about the emotional difficulty of having written the song since many people now message him on October 1st to ‘wake him up’ despite the song being a memorial to his departed father.
It’s generally seen as respectful to not try to wake him up. Let him sleep and let him remember his father in peace.
Reblogging as a reminder to leave Billie Joe Armstrong the fuck alone on October 1st and any day after it if your message is going to contain anything to do with “waking” him up because September will be over.
By the way, you can improve your executive function. You can literally build it like a muscle.
Yes, even if you're neurodivergent. I don't have ADHD, but it is allegedly a thing with ADHD as well. And I am autistic, and after a bunch of nerve damage (severe enough that I was basically housebound for 6 months), I had to completely rebuild my ability to get my brain to Do Things from what felt like nearly scratch.
This is specifically from ADDitude magazine, so written specifically for ADHD (and while focused in large part on kids, also definitely includes adults and adult activities):
Executive functioning skills range from working memory to cognitive flexibility to inhibitory control, and beyond. They power our daily func
Here's a link on this for autism (though as an editor wow did that title need an editor lol):
Practical Strategies for Enhancing Executive Functioning Difficulties in Adults With Autism - Living with Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) as
Resources on this aren't great because they're mainly aimed at neurotypical therapists or parents of neurdivergent children. There's worksheets you can do that help a lot too or thought work you can do to sort of build the neuro-infrastructure for tasks.
But a lot of the stuff is just like. fun. Pulling from both the first article and my own experience:
Play games or video games where you have to make a lot of decisions. Literally go make a ton of picrews or do online dress-up dolls if you like. It helped me.
Art, especially forms of art that require patience, planning ahead, or in contrast improvisation
Listening to longform storytelling without visuals, e.g. just listening regularly to audiobooks or narrative podcasts, etc.
Meditation
Martial arts
Sports in general
Board games like chess or Catan (I actually found a big list of what board games are good for building what executive functioning skills here)
Woodworking
Cooking
If you're bad at time management play games or video games with a bunch of timers
Things can be easier. You do not have to be stuck forever.
gamzee kills people because he is trying to spoil the show; he's going off script because he wants to be written out.
before murderstuck, gamzee has no idea that he is a clown. sure, he anoints his face with greasepaint, rides a unicycle, and juggles, but these are serious religious sacraments to him. and, sure, sometimes he trips on his giant floppy shoes and lands face first in a pie, but that's just being blessed with a miracle, because he was just thinking about pie. and, sure, sometimes his friends say things like "HEY ASSHOLE. CLOWN ASSHOLE. YOU WORSHIP A CLOWN RELIGXON. FOR CLOWNS." to him, but he's too zonked on sopor slime to extract any meaning from it.
when gamzee sees the ICP miracles video, he's too sober to dismiss it as a mere coincidence; for once, he gets the joke, and realises that he was the butt of the joke the whole time. he understands that every time he fell face first in a pie, it was the work of an unsen riddler. he grasps that he is, in a cosmic sense, a clown, and hates it.
the next time the curtain rises and hussie says "everyone look! he's about to do something stupid!" gamzee goes shithive maggots and starts mauling his friends and fondling corpses; every time hussie says "don't worry, folks, he can't hear us making fun of him! everyone point and laugh!" gamzee gets angrier. that's what the "are you next?" bit is about - gamzee is aware of, and hates, the audience.
when the murder spree is over, gamzee's beatific grin returns; no longer a look of blank ignorance, but a knowing smirk. he's successfully ruined his character forever - no one wants to see him and no one thinks he's funny. hussie seems to say: jesus you are such a shitty clown. and gamzee's impassive face seems to say: i know.
gamzee refuses to clown out of spite, and hussie refuses to remove gamzee from the story out of spite. it's a committed relationship of reciprocal, mutual antagonism. what i'm saying is that hussie and gamzee ar
I spend so much time carefully picking and adjusting the colors in every single drawing I make that I’d probably lose my mind if I didn’t just repeatedly push this out of my memory and pretend it’s not a thing. Why am I reblogging a blank empty post that doesn’t say anything??? Weird
good news! you can’t make sure that everyone will see the correct colors on their own device, but you can make sure your monitor is as accurate as possible for printing and sharing by calibrating it!
there are a bunch of free monitor tests, but here’s an easy one you can use. the passmark and eizo tests are also pretty good, though passmark doesn’t work in your browser. be warned that some tests may cause eye strain.
you can either use the settings built into your monitor itself or use the display color calibration settings in your operating system to adjust the settings until everything looks correct, and then enjoy your accurate colors.
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Out of curiosity, do ppl have comfort movies? NOT tv shows, movies! I have a few and watching them always makes me feel happy and calm
yes; specify what movie in the tags!
no; tell me your favorite movie anyway in the tags!
don't have one/results
Voting ended onJul 17, 2024
i'm just curious bc i'm watching How to Train Your Dragon and i always forget how happy and calm it makes me feel. i mean, i did name my cat after Toothless the dragon. but i also love Lion King, that's my Disney comfort movie. and my Ghibli comfort movie is Spirited Away. watching any of these when i'm in a foul mood or my anxiety is high always helps 🥰 but i watch them just for fun too, not only when i'm in a mood. what about you?
I don’t know what kind of fucking genius suggested to Charlize Theron that she become more and more of an action star as she ages, or if she just reached a fuck it point of having enough star juice to realize her dreams in Hollywood, but whatever reason there is that I keep seeing her looking buff as shit and jaded as hell in monochrome tank tops is enough to give me hope that we are not in The Darkest Timeline. The Old Guard, Atomic blonde, Mad Max, this woman is 45 years old, wearing leather and doing her own stunts. Please give me another decade+ of her slowly getting more jacked until she, Lucy Lawless, Gina Carrera, and Linda Hamilton can give us some kind of super wild John Wick type of franchise that is 90% middle aged women doing hand to hand combat and 10% queer Romance.
I don't know how strictly accurate this is, but one of the things I find shocking about watching historical dramas is how many people there are around all the time---according to Madame de... (1953) a well-off French household in the Belle Epoque maintains a workforce of at least 3, and the glittering opera has staff just to open doors. According to Shogun (2024) you can expect a deep bench just to mind your household, and again, people who exist to open doors.
Could people....not open doors in the past? Were doors tricky, before the standardization of hinges? Because otherwise, the wealthy used to pay a whole bunch of people to do it for them in multiple contexts, and I find myself baffled.
There is still the job of doorman/porter; their responsibilities are hospitality *and* security.
It's just in the past that more people had household staff (and more people *were* household staff), so historical media that is at all accurate is going to have background characters to do things like open doors, greet visitors, and mind their employer's small and portable valuables.
Also, technology has been able to replace having to have an employee out front of your building -- that's part of what security cameras and doorbell cameras are for. Also we have much better locks nowadays.
Two other technological advancements that have enabled private houses and apartment buildings to dispense with live porters/doormen:
1.) The telephone--your cell phone especially, but landlines too! Before that, if you needed to get in touch with someone faster than a letter would get there (which might have been pretty fast, depending on time and place--in Sherlock Holmes's day, London had three daily mail deliveries! but that still wasn't instaneous), your only other option was to knock on their door--and if they weren't in, someone needed to be there to take a message.
2.) Electric lighting and heat. The porter would sit up till (and often past) your usual hour to come home, and if you still weren't there, they would leave some kind of light burning and a taper for you to light your way to your room. In multifamily buildings, they'd often have a room right inside the door with a small window opening in it, and leave a lamp burning either just inside or outside that window, where they could reach it without getting up, so that that live flame was never left unattended.
In general, it's hard for modern people to understand how ubiquitous, and how necessary servants were in the past, in almost every social stratum. Managing a household run on fire for light, heat, and cooking simply required so much more work--making fires, tending fires, CLEANING THE GODDAMN SOOT OFF OF EVERY SURFACE EVERY DAY--that almost every family had to outsource some of it.
And even if you lived in one of the cities where most of that work could be outsourced outside your own home, the one indispensable servant you still needed was the porter.
In Paris circa 1830, visitors from abroad would often note, in wonderment, that it was possible to live with no servants but the porter. You could hire a cleaner who didn't live in; you could order dinners from the traiteur, who would send them over hot along with dishes and set the table for you--you could even order dinners on a regular schedule, basically a meal subscription; there were even companies that would deliver a bath to your home, with a portable tub and a cask of hot water, and haul away the dirty water when you were done. (If you were already paying for water delivery--which many people did; most of the city got its water from public fountains rather than private wells--economies of scale for fuel meant it was only very slightly more expensive to use one of these services than to heat water yourself.) But all of these services were made possible by having the porter there to let all these other people in and out, take messages, and keep a light burning.
In small multi-family buildings this role was sometimes played by the landlord, which obscured the service relationship, but often (and almost always in larger buildings) they would be hired by the landlord and their wage folded into the rent; they were also often the onsite handyman, just like a live-in superintendent in some apartments today. They would also often be available to take on other service work for the tenants--cleaning, shopping, errands.
It's also hard, I think, for modern people to grok how much cheaper labor was compared to the price of things--food, clothes, manufactured goods. We are used to thinking of things as basically costing their labor costs, with the price of raw materials a rounding error; before industrialization, that ratio was reversed. You've heard the line attributed to Agatha Christie, about how growing up she never expected to be so rich as to be able to afford a motorcar or so poor as to not be able to afford a servant?
Again, Paris circa 1830: In Les Misèrables, one of the privations we are told Marius endures while working his way up to merely poor from absolutely penurious is "sweeping his own landing." By the time he's living in the Gorbeau House, the filthiest tenement we see in the book, he still doesn't have heat in his room, but he is paying the portress to clean his room and buy the bread and eggs for his breakfasts. He pays her, for these services above doorkeeping, thirty-six francs a year, which is six francs more than his rent. His food costs ten times that--one franc a day, three hundred sixty-five a year, eating very frugally but adequately. (He was also spending one hundred francs a year on his outer clothes, fifty francs on underwear, and fifty on laundry, for an exceedingly inadequate wardrobe which did not really allow him to maintain a respectable appearance.)
(Note that laundry is outsourced; no one in a city at almost any income level did their own laundry. Mrs. Beeton--English and half a century later, but applicable--said that in most middle-class households sending out the laundry and hiring another servant to make it possible to do at home cost about the same, and that of the two, sending it out was by far the easiest; she only recommended trying to do laundry at home for large country estates that had less soot to deal with, more space for drying, a long distance from the nearest town, and a large enough household to make it worthwhile.)
AT ANY RATE. tl;dr:
1.) Everyone except the very poorest and people who were servants themselves had servants until very recently. (And the servants did have servants sometimes--in a very large estate, part of the job of the stillroom maid was to wait on the housekeeper, cook, and butler.)
2.) Even the very poorest of the poor still had porters and doorkeepers, if they were renters in a multi-family building, because the building itself could not function without them. The porter or doorkeeper was the single absolutely most essential piece of domestic labor, full stop.
3.) And, what, you think a good doorkeeper is going to let the rich dude open the door himself?
hey here's a website for downloading any video or image from any website.
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for anyone wondering about privacy and whatnot, i'm happy to say that the developers are pretty committed to have 0 trackers and 0 data retention. you can read more in their "about" section, but here's the basic important stuff:
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The room was quiet, which was very rare for Casey. If not loud music, then maybe the occasional practicing of trash talking for hockey games or both. But tonight it was quiet aside from the running water coming from the connected bathroom.
Well, that and Mikey telling his story.
And even after he finished talking, the silence stood, an awkward air between them. Casey had so many thoughts going through his head that for once he had no words.
So for quite a few minutes after Mikey's tale, it was quiet. It might've even been over an hour, he wasn't sure as he simply focused on washing his hands and arms.
He could hear that Mikey had gotten up from his bed and was now walking around his room, he wasn't nervous about that, he already spilled all his secrets anyway. The human didn't realize how tense he was until he looked in the mirror and saw how scrunched up his shoulders were. Casey almost jumped out of his skin as he caught a reflection of ice in the mirror as Mikey glanced at him.
He didn't think Mikey's eyes could get any colder.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he remembers someone saying that ice can get so cold that it burns. That's what it was, Mikey's eyes had gotten so cold that he could feel them start to burn.
"Don't scrub your skin off." Casey actually jumps this time, water splashing onto him and the mirror, Mikey's reflection distorting through the water droplets.
"Shit Mike... Scared the shit out of me." He chuckled nervously, turning off the water and taking a nearby towel to dry off, he looks down at the towel and idly thinks that he's glad it's not white.
"My apologies." Casey isn't looking at him, but he can practically feel the cold radiating off of the turtle as he steps closer. "But I seem to remember you mentioning that you like to be scared."
Casey felt shivers like claws raking down his back, "Y-Yeah I guess..." Once again, the silence returns, the human's hands have been dry for a bit but he keeps a hold of it, eyes not leaving the bundle of cloth. The cold drifts away as Mikey goes back into Casey's room, his footsteps audibly portraying his wandering, he had been silent up until that point, seems he wanted Casey to be aware of his presence now.
Casey sighs, deciding to splash some cold water on his face. "Stop freaking out..." he mutters as softly as possible to himself in the mirror, glancing back at the cracked door to make sure Mikey didn't hear. Though from the pause in his footsteps, he may have anyway.
Whatever, take a deep breath Casey Jones, you're not in danger.
He once again directed his gaze to his own reflection in the mirror... Maybe he should change.
As though reading his mind, Mikey suddenly appeared at his door, holding some of Casey's clothes "Here. Thought you'd want to get changed."
"Oh, thanks..." He took the clothes, Mikey turning to go back to sit on his bed, monotone, numb, apathetic, nothing new. This was Mikey, it's always been Mikey.
"So," Casey slowly started, looking over as Mikey's head perked up over to him, his blood was already frozen at this point with how often Mikey stared at him, the ice was starting to burn. "What does rat taste like?"
Mikey tilted his head like a confused dog, before pausing as he thought. "Do you remember how they smell?"
Casey shuddered as the same memory flashed to his mind as he nodded.
"Kind of like that. They can be chewy and stringy, I avoid the fat ones, fat never has a good texture raw." The turtle stated simply, matter of fact. "It's been a while since I actually had rats."
"Right... How often do you get... uh, hungry?" Casey fumbled his words a bit.
Mikey stared at Casey, he was forgetting to blink again. "Do you want the truth?"
They let the question linger, Casey chewing on his lip. Morbid curiosity. "Yeah, the truth."
"I'm always hungry." Suddenly Casey realized that at times that piercing cold, was a hungry gaze. "But I can keep it at bay, I eat once a week to avoid it from getting worse."
Casey was the one staring now "How many?"
"Depends on the day. Sometimes I can't risk getting out without being noticed or caught by my family so I postpone it. Thus I eat more the resulting night."
Missing persons posters, there had been more of them recently. Casey thought it was because of the Kraang or people getting mutated and having to retreat into the shadows.
Casey kept staring at Mikey, taking in his answer, his instincts going haywire, screaming at him that Mikey was dangerous.
"I'm gonna... get changed..." He slowly said as he retreated into the bathroom and closed the door, alone with his thoughts.
What did Casey know? First, Mikey never lied to him, he kept things hidden, slowly streaming out info to Casey, but he was honest about it every time he did it. There was clearly a lot that Mikey had kept to himself for years, so the least Casey could do was be patient. Though to be very fair, he never fully expected anything like this. Who would? Second, this wasn't something new. The only difference is that he knew now, but Mikey had always been like this.
His fight or flight had been activated many times just from being around the true Mikey, his gut always warning him. Hell, he knew Mikey was kinda fucked up. The second that the turtle allowed him to see the strings, how he plays with his brothers like it's a game. Even now, looking in the mirror, he could see the strings around his own wrists and neck. An unspoken threat, if he tried to tell anyone about who Mikey really was, he'd be fucked. The only thing he'd accomplish with that would be seeing Mikey truly pissed.
Holy shit.
Mikey wasn't pissed. Everything he saw, but Mikey hadn't been angry, not even a little upset. As he realized this, he looked at the clothes he had been wearing, now a pile of the floor, stains of red still vaguely seen. His gaze then went to his sink and he realized that it was going to need some cleaning as well, he hoped the red didn't stain too much. He could always pass it off as him tending to his own hockey caused wounds if anything. It's the same excuse he used when he ended up banged up from being out on the streets...
He sounds like Mikey.
This might've been fucking with his head a bit.
Okay, a lot.
He took another deep breath as he slipped on new clothes, calming down his heart, the adrenaline still in his system. At this point Mikey was just a constant source of adrenaline for Casey.
Maybe that's why he found it almost intoxicating to be around the turtle. Maybe it's why he missed the cold truth of Mikey whenever it was hidden behind false warmth and large dramatic smiles. It felt so fake whenever they hung around Mikey's family, a performance. Mikey had been giving him tips and helping him out, building a mask for Casey.
Really thinking about it, Mikey didn't have to go through any of this. He didn't have to explain so much to him, didn't have to help him, he revealed the strings most likely as just insurance, a just in case.
Plus, considering what he just saw, if Mikey wanted him dead, he would be.
It was almost sweet in a way...
Yeah, Casey's fucked up, but he's always known this so why act surprised now?
"So," Casey opened the bathroom door, clearly no longer as nervous as he casually leans against the door frame, "what do humans taste like?" his relaxed posture conveyed more curiosity than fear, something almost seemed to spark in those ice cold eyes.
"Like chicken. That's a joke." Casey actually laughed at that as he tossed his clothes with the rest of his dirty laundry. "You'll want to use hydrogen peroxide."
"Hydrogen peroxide." Casey said at the same time as Mikey as he nodded and sat next to the turtle, laying down on his bed.
He saw Mikey's head tilt out of the corner of his eye, "You know?"
"I'm trans, dude."
It took Mikey a second "Ah, right." Casey could feel the turtle's eyes as they scanned him, it caused another shiver. "You're... much calmer..."
Casey shrugged "I mean, if you wanted me dead you would've done it by now... and like, you only eat people cuz you gotta. You're still the same Mike, I just learn more about you but you ain't changing..." His gaze went from the ceiling to the turtle just in time to see said mutant practically jump on top of him, those ice cold eyes inches from his face. This close, Casey could see some of the blood still staining the edges of the scales around Mikey's mouth.
"You're not afraid..."
That familiar adrenaline quickly caused his heart to beat in his ears, "I ain't gonna lie Mike..." he spoke barely above a whisper, "You scare the shit out of me..."
"And yet... you don't run, don't stop coming to our talks, and you haven't tried telling my brothers a thing, listening to every tip and suggestion I say..." Casey feels the turtle's fingers tracing a line across his neck, "I've shown you the strings I have tied around everyone around me, even you... and yet you obediently follow the tugs of said strings..."
Casey didn't flinch, just looking into those eyes, now welcoming the freezing burn. "Yup."
This close, he saw those icy blue eyes widen a bit before a smile crawled onto Mikey's face, wider than his usual small genuine smiles, showing off sharpened canines that Casey knew the other turtles didn't have. The smile almost seemed manic "You... get better everyday Casey Jones...~"
Yeah, Casey was scared shitless, and he loved every second of it.
Meanwhile, one thought echoed in the turtle's head:
Chapter 4 of No Fun in Fungus! The next chapter will be last!
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Donnie can’t help but feel angry at this point.
At who, he isn’t entirely certain.
Himself? The mushrooms?
There’s just anger.
Weight is suddenly in his hand.
It’s his tech bō.
He slams it into the side of the fake Leo’s head as hard as he can.
The hallucination’s head and neck cracks sideways audibly.
It’s gaze moves back to Donnie.
“You hate me this much? Why? What….did I ever do to you? Why do you want me to be gone from your life so badly?”
Donnie’s hands steady as he hits again.
“Shut up! I don’t care if some dumb dumb mushrooms keep saying my brothers think I hate them!”
Another whack.
“They know I love them! I know I love them! Just because I made mistakes and can’t express my feelings like other people doesn’t make me a monster!”
An even harder hit.
“I would build, destroy, do anything for them! You can’t take that away from me!”
The bō suddenly gets grabbed as the image turns into Shredder.
“You think you can do anything? A pathetic little mistake, a blight on my bloodline talking so boldly. You believe you can hide your weaknesses with machinery, you forget how easily I destroyed it! How easily I can destroy you!”
Donnie is well aware what happened to his tech on multiple occasions.
Because of his failures, two people he cared a lot about were gone within the same day.
However, it was that same tech he created that gave them time to escape.
It was his invention that helped bring Leo back from somewhere that seemed impossible.
Maybe nothing he made was perfect or would always been 100% successful.
He’d make them over and over again to help his family.
Reminding himself of them also brings back the memory of Raph.
There’s a chance that the other component he had been missing was besides knowing this wasn’t real.
Raph didn’t only allow them to calm him down, he also chose to face his fear completely while thinking it was real.
He ha/ to do the same to have a chance of making sure everyone else was okay.
Donnie let’s go of the stuck tech bō and lunges at Shredder, hoping that the hallucination would just vanish.
It still surprises him that it works.
What surprises him even more is when he realizes that he’s actually going towards Raph and Leo.
The three all let out yelps as they crash into each other.
“Okay, ow.” Donnie complains, draped over Raph’s chest and part of Leo.
“That’s my line.” Leo grumbles, but not making any attempt to move.
Raph grabs and pulls the both of them into a tight hug.
“Raph’s never been so happy to get crashed into. You okay? Leo and I saw some….intense stuff.”
“Luckily I am the pinnacle of mysterious bad boy personas, I have my emotions completely under control.” Donnie says despite clinging to them just as much.
Raph can’t help but smile a little more at his reaction, despite the situation they’re in.
It’s nice to know he’s still considered a safe space after everything that’s happened.
“Don’t worry, Raph’s got ya.”
“….Thank you. There is something I want to say-“
“Hold on! I need to give you this before I forget.” Leo holds up the inhaler.
“You….still have that thing? You know I can just make one with ninpo now.”
“Maybe, but if you’re stressed and can’t breathe how are you going to focus enough to make one?…..Are you crying?”
Donnie hides his face in Leo’s shoulder.
“No. The spore cloud made my eyes burn.”
Leo pats his head.
“Sure it did.”
“I’d give you yours, but they’re in my battle shells.”
“They’re? As in more than one?”
“Obviously I have to have one in each or else it nullifies the purpose of it being handy in an emergency.”
Leo sniffles.
“The dust got in my eyes too.”
Tears fall onto them from above, making the two look up.
“There’s nothing in my eyes, I just love you guys so much.” Raph admits.
“We love you too, big guy. Let’s go get Mikey so he doesn’t get mad we’re group hugging without him.” Leo pats Raph’s face.
Raph nods.
“Let’s go make sure he’s okay.”
He lets go of Donnie and Leo before they all stand up.
Leo wobbles slightly.
Donnie nonchalantly leans closer to him, offering his shoulder.
Leo silently accepts the invitation to help him stay upright.
The three of them make their way further in.
When the spores made everything hard to see, Mikey scrambled to grab onto anyone he could.
When he felt nothing, it scared him pretty badly.
There wasn’t much to go on to find out which way they went so he went a random direction and just called out for all of them.
He felt so relieved when he heard all their voices together after some time of walking.
“Hey! You guys! I’m here! Is everyone okay?”
The relief vanishes very quickly as Mikey realizes the voices were angry ones, his brothers were arguing.
“You’re just selfish, Leo! Even after almost getting us all killed you still can’t stop and think for even a second about how we might feel!” Donnie shouts.
“Since when do you care about how people feel!? You keep building robots just so someone will want to hang out with you! I bet S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. died just so he wouldn’t have to be around you anymore!”
Mikey gasps loudly.
That was an incredibly low blow considering S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. was like their nephew and, by extension, Donnie’s son.
“Leo! How could you say that?”
Donnie slaps Leo across the face, hard enough that Mikey could tell it stung.
Leo recovers from the slap and tackles Donnie, rolling around in a fight with him on the floor.
“What are you doing!? Raph! Help me stop them!” Mikey pleads, looking up at him.
Raph crosses his arms and has a look that makes Mikey freeze.
This was completely different from how he looks when he’s disappointed.
Raph always has that shine in his eyes even at the worst moments. While the saying is that people keep their hearts on their sleeves, Raph keeps it in his eyes.
That was missing at the moment.
“How many times am I going to have to keep cleaning up everyone’s messes? All I ever do is take care of you three and you’ve never appreciated it. Especially not you.”
“O-Of course I appreciate it! I appreciate you! I love you and Leo and Donnie and dad-“
“No, you don’t. Maybe you love Leo and dad and Donnie, but not me. I worked so hard to keep you safe and for what!? All it did was push you away from me! I’m the bad guy because I didn’t let you do dumb and dangerous things! You never care how hard it is for me to have to be responsible! I have fun too! I’m not just a buzzkill like you guys keep saying!”
Mikey feels tears pricking at his eyes at the tone and volume that Raph has been using.
None of his lectures ever sound like this.
“I-I’m….I’m sorry….”
“You know what? I should be glad you don’t want to hang out with me anymore. You’re annoying.”
Mikey’s heart break into little pieces.
Leo and Donnie stand up.
“Finally, something we can agree on. I’m sick and tired of you coming into my lab! I hate having to pretend like your dumb ideas matter.” Donnie crosses his arms.
“You guys are being too hard on him.” Leo interjects.
Mikey looks up at him hopefully.
“Why even bother saying what’s wrong with him? He can’t change, he won’t change. Dr. Toxic Positivity only cares if someone’s upset so he can make them feel bad about it.”
“T-Toxic….? No! Please! I just want to help! I can do better! I-I can make this better!”
“You can’t cook breakfast, you can’t draw, you can’t skateboard, you can’t do anything that would make you useful enough for us to put up with you.”
“My arms will heal! They’ll-!” Mikey looks down in horror as he sees the golden cracks on his arms.
“No no no! This isn’t happening!”
The other three turn their backs to him.
“This family is a joke. Good luck surviving without me around.” Raph starts walking off.
“No! Wait! Don’t go!”
“Try not to fall into a sewer hole chasing after a pigeon with pizza.” Donnie hisses, going another direction.
“Please! Stay!”
“You can’t keep yourself together, let alone the family. Being in the prison dimension is better than being here.” Leo comments, walking away from the rest as well.
Tears stream down Mikey’s face as he feels something else welling up.
No.
He was not just going to let them go.
If his arms have to suffer again, so be it.
The feeling flows through him, through his arms and throughout the rest of his body.
There’s a weightlessness that comes to him he isn’t fully aware of.
He’s floating.
Ninpo chains appear around him before shooting out in the directions his brothers went.
When he feels one chain gain purchase on something, he pulls it back.
There’s the sound of quite yelling that gets louder as the chain goes back to him.
It becomes loudest when Leo comes into his vision.
“Wha-, Mikey!? You can fly!?”
“Where are they?”
“You mean Raph and Donnie? They’re fine, they were right next to me, but what’s happening with you!?”
Mikey just sends out more chains.
The yelling starts up again and only ends when Raph and Donnie are brought over as well.
“Mikey!?” They question at the same time.
“How are you doing this!?” Raph pulls at the chain around him.
Mikey wraps more chains around his arms, glowing yellow pooling in his eyes and down his face in tears.
“Stop it! You’re not leaving! I don’t care if you want out of this family! W-We’re going to work out our problems and nobody is going anywhere!”
“Mikey, none of us want to leave the family! It’s the hallucinations!” Donnie insists.
“H-How do I know that!? Leo and Raph fought so much just because they couldn’t understand each other! L-Leo was just going to let himself die! None of you can promise me that you won’t leave!”
“Mikey-“
“No! W-We’re all going to apologize! I-I’m sorry for being so annoying…..I-I’m sorry I can’t use my arms a lot yet. I’m sorry you think I hate you Raphie!” He shuts his eyes, making more tears spill out.
Raph’s jaw drops.
Mikey only calls him Raphie nowadays when he wants something especially badly and his puppy dog eyes weren’t working.
When they were younger, that’s all he called him.
“No! You don’t need to apologize, Mikey! I know you don’t hate me, you don’t even hate Draxum!”
Mikey opens his eyes again, sniffling as they stop glowing.
“I was so scared when you put Leo in your escape pod. W-We had no idea what they were doing with you, i-if you’d come back. I never worried about us not surviving before Shredder! Then the Krang happened and…..I realized more we could all just die! E-Especially you.”
“What….what do you mean….?”
“Leo put himself in the prison dimension, but you made him leave you behind in your escape pod! When Shredder attacked Donnie, you put yourself between them and he was stepping on you! H-How many times are we going to have to see you like that!? It hurts! It’s scary!”
Raph desperately struggles against the chains, he wants to hug his poor baby brother so badly.
“I’m sorry! I….I always thought you guys being scared was better than you being hurt or worse. You’re not a burden or a responsibility, you’re my family. I always want to protect you, and….I can’t do that if I’m gone. I get it. I promise I do.”
Mikey hiccups and removes some chains from him, pulling him closer to hug him tightly.
Raph hugs him back just as tight, maybe even tighter.
Leo and Donnie sigh in relief slightly at Mikey calming down.
“If you’re feeling better, you can set us down now Miguel.” Leo smiles.
Mikey stares hard at him and Donnie from behind Raph’s shoulder.