I Miss Early Part 2 Asa, As A Lonely And Awkward Woman Myself I Loved Her Portrayal But Now I Don't Care

f!leo gives gentle kisses 💞

DONNIE DARKO richard kelly, 2001

do not forget the patron saint of these weeks that we celebrate ourselves proudly and openly in the streets

her name was Marsha P Johnson, and we have her to thank for so much.

remember, the first Pride was a riot, and she was one of the brave souls who endured it to help carve the path which so many of us walk today. she helped found several activist groups regarding LGBT safety and wellbeing. and she was absolutely radiant, too.

thank you, Marsha. we remember you.

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Horrortober Day 30- Lonely(Yandere Rise Donnie x Reader)

A/N, not important: Another one I'll probably try to rewrite, although I'm not sure what more to add. Maybe emotion. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

CW: Anger, destroying things out of anger, hinted future bloodshed, kidnapping, dark themes, yan themes

Words: 775

Summary: You left, and it drives Donnie mad

Donnie shifts in his bed, his gut telling him something was wrong. He feels around his bed for you, his heart racing as his eyes open. You were gone. The spot you last were wasn’t even warm, the sheets that once covered you messed and strewn about. Donnie jolts up and moves from his bed, patting the blankets down in hopes to feel you buried under. Not finding you in the mess of sheets, he rushes from his room and moves around the lab, calling your name and searching every nook and cranny. His eyes land on the open lab door and his heart sinks, his hands shaking as he wakes up SHELLDON and sends him off to search for you as well.

It takes painstakingly long, but Donnie ends up searching the entire lair top to bottom three times. Not a single inch was unaccounted for, and more importantly, neither were you. Donnie sits in front of his computers in his lab, seething. You ran. He took such good care of you, and you ran. Donnie shoves the half-finished tracking collar off his desk, regretting not setting you up with the subcutaneous trackers he had for the rest of his family. He curses his want for you to be special, to make something just for you. He should’ve been more careful, shouldn’t have fallen for your lies and your words. You were too willing, and he shouldn’t have believed it was from mutual love.

Donnie pushes his chair from the desk and stands up, screaming out in anger. His heart was throbbing, fury bright in his eyes while shoves cabinets to the ground and listens to the clatter of his tools being thrown against walls. He stays away from his projects, not wanting to destroy his life's work in his fit of rage. His fists clench at his side as he stares down at the mess he made, his tools scattered and shelves emptied onto the floor. He stands there for a moment, just letting his anger roll through him in waves, not trying to calm it at all. You had betrayed him. You ran, despite promising him your heart.

Donnie turns back to his computers, righting the chair and settling into it as he frantically starts to look through everything he could to find you. He gains access to cameras around town, his eyes taking in screen for barely a second before flipping to the next, running your name through databases to see if you had tried to call or book anything in the hours you ran. He searches the files of all the local police stations, looking for any new visits or files that contain you.

Each station was an annoyance to look through, every file having its own access key he needed to break through. He reopens the cameras on his other monitor, glancing at them while he painstakingly searches through every single folder they had online. He clenches his hand as he stares at the dozens of drives he needed to get through, his heart pounding both from anger and the annoyance of needing to cover his tracks lest he get caught.

It takes him what feels like hours, but he finally gets to the last police within a walkable distance in the time you’ve been gone, his eyes flicking back and forth between the cameras open and the files he’s decoding. He pauses when he sees the door to the precinct open, his chair swiveling as he moves to face the screen better. Through the grainy cameras the police station held, he could make you out. You were barefoot and only wearing Donnie’s clothes, different ones than the pajamas he gave you to sleep in. The sweats and hoodie you stole were baggy, both made to his specifications and you didn’t have a shell to help them fit.

The sight of you walking up to the station desk makes him sick, the woman manning the station looking at you with pity as you shake before her. Donnie slowly stands up, moving through his wrecked lab with a quiet peacefulness. His eyes were focused, determination and anger mixing together to form a dangerous concoction. Donnie pulls on his battle-shell and mans his tech-bō, fully prepared to do anything to get you back. You were coming home, no matter how much blood he had to spill.

Donnie takes one last glance at the cameras, watching you being ushered off into the back of the station, his knuckles lightening in shade as he steams. You would regret leaving him, one way or another. And he would make sure you never could again.

Hello my lovelies! Just a quick little PSA in regards to something that happened to @yanteetle.

If you're going to steal work, at least give credit. Reposting work is already awful enough, but doing so w/out credit? I know this most likely wasn't y'all, but this is just a warning for everyone.

Yesterday, Yanteetle discovered some of her work had been posted on YouTube, Tiktok, and Wattpad. On YouTube(the main focus of this), two were edits, and one was voice acting. Both of these videos relied heavily on her work, and two of them got up to ten thousand views, with the other amassing one thousand two hundred views. That is twenty-one thousand views, or people, seeing her work and enjoying it, all without knowing who it's from in the first place.

One of the videos even had hundreds of comments asking who the artist was, and the only thing they(the poster) gave as a response was that it was "on Tumblr".

This person knows the art isn't theirs, knows where they got it from and how to find it, yet still never once credited Teets for her artwork. I don't know what goes through their brain when you do that, or how they can care so little for the original artist, but never do this.

The second instance I'm most mad about is the third video(the voice acting). This one was just someone going through and voice every artwork Teets made, and the title of the video makes it seem like their claiming it to be their own AU(When I first saw that, I assumed they were just going to base an AU off of her work, but NOPE! It's just them voice dubbing her comics.)

I checked the description, hoping they would add something there. NOPE. Even in the comments, only one person asked and they never responded. I DID however find a people who were:

Encouraging them to make more(which would mean more misuse and stealing of Teets or others work)

Telling them they were going to make videos based off this video, which means more spreading of it because they all promised to credit the thief

Praising 'their' work and their voice, which is directly showing them they can get away with what they're doing(not really to the fault of the commenters, but I digress)

Call me overbearing or crazy, but this does not sit will with me in the slightest. Yanteetle never had to post. She never had to take requests. She never had to put as much effort into her work as she does, yet everyone takes it for granted, and people take her work.

Some of you may be thinking "Oh, but didn't Teets say you could repost her work?"

And to that I hit you on the head because her full clause on usage of her work is "Disclaimer: reposting is fine as long as proper credit is given, but tracing and claiming it as your own will not be tolerated."

In my opinion, every single one of these are taking Teets work as their own. Until you give her name, there is no other belief people can have other than the assumption you made it yourself. Humans find patterns and assume things on default, this isn't on the shoulders of the consumers. I already have my own opinions about her reposting disclaimer(which I've kind of discussed with her, but it's her choice), but even if it were stricter, I can guarantee you this still would've happened.

Taking work without credit is not a cool thing to do, and will earn you a lot of hate and problems you probably don't want to deal with. I personally go through every account that follows and likes my stuff because I want to see who's interacting with me. Do I think any of y'all would do this? No, not really. But you are the only audience I have. Do not take work from others, and especially don't do it without permission and credit.

If anyone has a similar problem and needs someone to speak up for them, just hit me up and I'll try my best.

Thank you for listening and have a good day.

//Field Trip: Training with Leo

Quick sketches of the 'Field Trip Event' that occurred earlier in Chaotic's server [ with the help of HiO Leo ] --

Thanks to @chaoticspeedrun for letting me take over for a bit--

...Hope I didn't scare you all too much--

//Chuckles--

Hello I really like your work, do you think you could yandere Leo/Donnie with a reader that cries really easily?

A/N, not important: YES I KNOW I HAVE A SCHEDULE NOW BUT LEON SAID I COULD IGNORE IT ONCE A MONTH AND I AM SO PROUD OF THIS. This was so fun to do because I am the most emotional person, and I cry so much it isn't even funny. I apologize for the headcanon bit, I really suck at writing them and Leo's contradicts himself left and right lmaooo. Maybe I'll go back and rework them one day. Am VERY proud of the fic portion though. Once I finish a last couple fics, I might do Raph and Mikey for this as well. Any criticism is welcome, constructive or not. This is supposed to be a gender neutral reader, so if I screwed up somewhere, please tell me.

-Ollie

Tw: Needles(Donnie), kidnapping, restraints, crying, dark themes, yandere

Words: 3629

Summary: Yandere Leo and Donnie navigate trying to deal with their darling who cries easily

Leo:

He finds your sniffles and tears a bit endearing, and it plays into his hero complex. You’re just the cute little human who can’t handle the real world. That’s why he saved you, whisking you away to the lair to ‘keep you safe’. 

Teases you relentlessly for it. He finds it funny, albeit a bit worrying. He knows how easy you cry though, and isn’t all that concerned. He’s been watching you for years, he’s well aware how easily you’re set off.

He knows you’re only crying because of him, so he feels safe poking fun at you. It’s not like you’d willingly let him help, so he might as well have some fun if you’re going to be ‘dramatic’.

He’s determined to make you smile one of these days instead of breaking into sobs when he gets too close, but until then, he’ll just pretend your tears are from the joy of seeing him.

While he does find your puffy eyes slightly adorable, your countless tears do slightly annoy him. He doesn't like that you cry at the sight of him, or whimper at his touch. You’re supposed to love him. He usually ends up guilt tripping you after a few minutes, trying to make you feel bad for your emotions.

If he goes too far in his teasing and realizes what he’s saying is actually hurting you, he immediately changes gears and starts pampering you instead. He loves you, you’re his darling. He was just trying to get back at you for crying whenever he touched you. He didn’t mean to actually upset you. He just thought you were a crybaby.

Instantly pulls you close and starts actually trying to comfort you. He holds you in his arms while whispering apologies, letting himself be more vulnerable with you. You love him after all, you’re just confused. If he can’t be vulnerable with you, how can he expect you to ever trust him.

His favorite thing to do is kiss your tears away, trying to comfort you through bouts of affection. He knows you’re more sensitive, so once he realizes it’s serious, he’ll take care of you.

If you cry for a reason other than being scared of him, he’s quick to help you with your problem and comfort you, even if his form of comfort makes you cry more. It’s not his fault you hate his amazing hugs. He can’t deal with you crying for another reason, it means you got hurt or are thinking of something that’s not him. He can’t have that.

If you’re crying from a person or because you’re hurt(either emotionally or physically), he gets more serious and takes care of you. He’ll put on a movie and burrito you in blankets until you can’t get out, then snuggle up with you and whisper sweet nothings while you’re stuck. He finds it sweet and caring. You find it nerve wracking.

If a person makes you cry, he’ll gladly go remove them so they’ll never bother you again. If it was one of his brothers, he’d mess with something they enjoy and be as petty as possible to them for the next few days. He doesn't want you to truly be upset.

I let out a small groan as a buzzing sounds through my head and rattles my skull. I slowly shake off the sleep, trying to ignore how heavy I felt. My skin tingles uncomfortably, as if there were bugs crawling just underneath the skin. I stretch in my bed, confused to feel a plush comforter on top of me. A distant rattling sounds as I move and my wrists are tugged painfully back into place. My eyes flutter open and I look around, panic coursing through me. This wasn’t my bed. This wasn’t my room.

Where in the world was I?

I feel my throat start to tighten as a heavy weight settles on my chest. This was wrong. I pull uselessly at the restraints connecting my wrists to the pole that stretched from floor to ceiling. No matter how hard I tug, it didn’t give. All it did was make the skin on my wrists red and inflamed. They were starting to burn. I look around my prison with misty eyes, trying to figure out my surroundings. It looked as if I was in a refurbished subway car.

I blink away my tears as I suck in a shaky breath. Crying wouldn’t help. I couldn’t cry, not now. I needed a clear mind to get out of here. Swallowing back the building tears, I scan the room for something that could possibly clue me in to what was happening. I was obviously kidnapped and restrained, but why?

Ransom? I shake my head. I wasn’t the most well off considering I was just a college student. That same logic applies to robbery. I wasn’t wealthy, and sure didn’t look at it. My family wasn't exactly the cream of the crop either.

I shakily exhale. Was I just brought here to be tortured and murdered? Just an unlikely victim of a crime of passion? I shudder at the thought, new tears brimming my eyes. This wasn’t fair. I just wanted to go home. I wipe a few tears off my cheeks as they fall, the salty liquid leaving small stains on my cheeks. I sniffle softly, trying to keep it down. Crying in front of my captor would not be the best.

My head shoots up as I hear the faint padding of footsteps outside the door, a loud voice shouting to others in the area. I thickly swallow. There was more than one. I was outnumbered, chained, and alone. I quickly settle back into the bed, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment before letting my face relax. I take a couple deep breaths to calm my tears. Years of crying at the slightest inconvenience sure helps when you need to calm down quickly. Although, I would argue this is a perfectly acceptable situation to cry over. Not that I wanted to.

The fluttering of a curtain being pushed to the side sounds through the room. I hear my captor walk towards me, a soft tune being hummed as he nears. His voice was smooth and crisp, way too happy to match the fear coursing through me. I feel a wave of disgust wash over me. This guy kidnapped me, and is now humming a happy little tune like everything was right in the world. I wanted to jump up and scream at him, hit him with everything I had. This wasn’t fair.

I stay still on the bed despite my violent desires. Doing such a bold action while I was chained would only result in my own injury. I try my best not to tense as I feel his presence near and the humming grow louder. I make sure to keep my cheeks soft, trying to keep up the facade of a deep sleep. Maybe if he saw I was sleeping, he’d leave me alone.

I feel a finger caress my cheek, tracing the tracks of my tears. I hold back a shudder at his touch, trying not to shake. I forgot about the tear tracks. My pulse thunders in my ears as every part of my body begs me to run, but I can’t. I was stuck, a loop of chain keeping me grounded. There was nowhere I could go. Nowhere to run, nor hide. I was trapped with a monster, awaiting my demise.

“You were crying.” The voice pauses for a moment, seemingly thinking. I try everything to keep my breathing steady. I hear a small chuckle from above me as the voice speaks once more, this time in a more teasing tone. “Aww, did you miss me that much?”

My breath hitches in my throat and I don’t breathe, trying to convince him of my unconsciousness. It doesn’t work. I feel a couple more quick taps to my face, each one sending a chill down my spine. I hear another chuckle above me as he continues to poke at my face, watching it scrunch up from my inability to control my muscles.

"Open your eyes, I wanna see them." The voice demands, despite his tone being surprisingly soft. I hold out for a moment more before I feel a sudden wetness and pressure in my ear cavity. I jolt back, glaring at him while I wipe my ear with the heel of my hand. I open my mouth to complain, to try and hold my ground, but all words leave me the moment I meet his eyes.

He was a turtle. A large, smug, humanoid turtle. His arms were muscular and the limited part I could see of his build was strong. Two stark red crescents peaked out of his blue mask and stood out against his green skin. I could barely understand what I was looking at. 

I gape at him for a moment, trying to process what I was seeing. A scream builds up in my chest, fear upon what I saw. His eyes were big and held a strong ego, scanning me up and

down for my reaction. 

"What, don't like what you see?" He asks, still grinning. It was if he thought this whole thing was some huge joke. Nothing more than something to laugh over as the years go by. I swallow the lump in my throat, trying to control my breathing. Too much was happening at once and I could feel my chest starting to constrict on me. The pressure keeps rising and my heart thumps loudly in my ears, drowning out the words I watch him speak but cannot hear. New tears prick at my eyes, quickly falling down my cheek and gathering at my chin before splashing onto my clothes and lap. The turtle's grin widens as he sees my tears, a small coo sounding from his throat. "I know, I know. This meeting was bound to get a bit emotional. It sure is shocking to meet your soulmate for the first time."

I pause at his words, blinking as more tears fall. I try to hold back the choked sobs as I hurriedly wipe away my tears, feeling weak and pathetic for crying in what was possibly my killer. In the least, he was certainly my kidnapper. Showing any ounce of emotional vulnerability in front of him made me feel like I was falling further into his grasp, the chains around my wrists rattling quietly as I move my hands. I jolt back as his three fingered hands move to cup my cheeks, holding my face tight to keep me from squirming away. Tears continue to roll down my cheeks, completely out of my control. His blue masked face just smiles, wiping them as they fall with his thumbs.

Donnie:

He gets really upset at your constant stream of tears. You’re supposed to be happy with him. He doesn’t understand why you insist on throwing a ‘tantrum’ every time he comes near you or something slightly inconvenient happens. Your emotions don’t make much sense to him, even if he realizes the pattern.

Donnie’s not the best at empathizing with your tears. He finds them annoying and proof of you not settling him in. In his mind, the tears equal his own failures as a lover.

The more you cry, the more intense he’ll get. It’ll start with him trying to find solutions and devolve into threats. He just wants you to stop crying. Why won’t you stop crying?

Despite knowing you will cry at anything, he still takes it personally every time. It starts to annoy him and stress him out as he desperately tries to figure out what’s wrong.

Will probably lock you in his room if you keep crying. He doesn’t want to deal with it. Your tears stress him out and make him feel bad, which he doesn’t want. You’re supposed to love him, not cry at the sight of him.

If you’re crying about him or something he did(in his mind, something you made him do), he’ll just ignore your cries. He may snap at you to shut up a couple times, but just grumbles under his breath other than that.

The reason he hates it when you cry is because it makes him feel bad. He learned pretty quickly the way he tries to comfort you doesn’t help much, so instead he just ignores you. He would love to hold you close and keep you occupied so your tears stop, but you never let him touch you. At least, not without a fight. He usually gets fed up enough to leave you alone, but he’ll probably ignore you for days afterwards as a punishment.

If you have a ‘valid’ reason to cry(according to him), he’ll step in and actually help you. He’ll try to comfort you to the best of his ability. He doesn’t want anyone else to bring you pain, so he’ll take care of the problem and make sure to help you. He’ll pull you close as he works and let you cry into his chest for once, ignoring the way you fight him.

He wishes so badly you’d just stop crying. Sometimes he’ll even go to Mikey for advice on how to make you not so scared. It hurts him to see it, and it makes him more agitated with you, which ends in more tears. He wants it to stop.

He tries not to physically punish you for crying. He hates your tears, but you are doing a relatively good thing by trusting Donnie enough to cry in front of him. He’ll usually end up building you a quick item to keep you occupied or have SHELLDON spend time with you until you calm down. He doesn’t want to make your sobs worse.

If he wants affection, and you cry, he’ll just not care. He’ll spoon you from behind so you don’t get your tears on him and hold you close. He’s not willing to give up his own needs for your dramatics.

Bright lights shine into my closed eyelids, my body recoiling as my eyes start to open. I keep them squeezed shut, trying to minimize the damage to my sight. To my left, soft footfalls could be heard paired with a low muttering. I try to move my limbs, my breath hitching once I realize I was strapped down. I feel my breathing quicken, my blood running cold. I let my eyes flutter open, ignoring the way the bright burned my retinas as I force my eyes into focus. Tears built up in the corners of my eyes while my chest tightened.

I couldn’t move. My head was stuck between two large pieces of padding and my limbs were strapped down. The cold metal of the straps burned into my skin, the padding pressing uncomfortably against my cheeks. My face grows hot with tears as I try to force them down, not wanting to alert the presence at my left to my consciousness. A small gasp sounds, and I realize I was too late.

A large, humanoid turtle moves into my vision, my heart pounding in fear as he looks me up and down. I couldn’t help but gasp at his appearance while he towers over me. A purple mask covered the top half of his face, only showing his cold eyes. I look at the purple metal on his back, watching the light catch it to make it shimmer. The purple markings on his shoulders and thighs seemed to glow with the screen he had in front of him, glancing between it and me. His face is scrunched up in thought while he stares down at me, the look of surprise in his eyes morphing into one of confusion. I stay silent, unable to wipe the tears trailing down my cheeks away, unable to keep my dignity in front of this monster.

I couldn’t help but wish for my parents, for freedom. Silent tears continued to build up and fall while the figure in front of me stared me down. His eyes were glued to my cheeks and my expression, one I could only imagine is of terror. He raises his hand to grab my face and I flinch.

I press my head against the headrest of the chair, trying to dodge his approaching hand. He ignores my attempts, grabbing my face firmly and frowning as he stares into my eyes. He wipes my tears before dropping his hand down to cup my chin. I struggle as he forces my face up to make me look at him, a short whimper being pulled from my throat. I blink back more tears, unsure what to make of the turtle in front of me. He continues to stare down my shaking form for a moment, his bottom lip jutting out.

“Are you… Crying?” His surprisingly smooth voice asks. I scrunch my face up, confused why he was even asking. His question took me a bit off guard. Why was he confused about my tears? Sure, I cried more easily than most people, but this situation wasn’t one I would consider something I shouldn’t cry over. The turtle continues to stare me down, seemingly waiting for me to answer. I don’t. I had nothing to say. My voice wouldn’t let me either way. He drops my chin with a glare, rolling his eyes. I let out a breath of relief when he backs up, my limbs still shaking slightly from the fear. I watch him move around the room, not sure whether to be relieved or worried when he ducks out of my sight. 

"Your tears won't phase me." He says, the clinking of metal and glass punctuating his words. I hear a small beep along with liquid being swirled around, my fear rising. Was I about to be experimented on? To be ripped apart and killed brutally? What would something like him even want with me? "Cry all you want, but it won't stop me. You're mine."

His words make me pause as I try to decipher the meaning of his words while he comes back into my line of vision. He's absentmindedly pulling a medical cart with him, staring down at the screen on his wrist. I try to look at the contents of the medical cart, but his body is blocking my sight. I gulp. What could he possibly want? The pads around my head feel sticky from my tears. I wanted to be away from this dreaded chair so bad. I wanted to go home. The turtle looks at me again, smirking at my discomfort. I take a deep breath as he drops his wrist and wheels the cart in front, ready to show off the torture he planned on putting me through.

My breath leaves my chest when I see four syringes lined neatly on the surface of the cart, a sharps container and needles off to the side. I feel as though I had been doused in cold water, new tears springing to my eyes. I was right, I was about to be experimented on then killed. There was no way I could fathom getting out of this alive. I grip the armrest of the chair I was strapped to, my hand cramping and my knuckles turning white from the force. His eyes meet mine and narrow slightly, tsking at the new tears rolling down my cheeks. He didn’t comment on them, but he seemed obviously relieved I wasn’t making much noise. If I could, I would thank the heavens I was a silent crier.

His gaze follows mine to the medical cart holding the needles, a thoughtful hum sounding from his throat. He turns back to me, he drawn eyebrows raising. “I am aware of your allergy to penicillin, and I can assure you there is none in any of the injections I’m about to give you.”

I pause at his words, trying to understand how he knew that. Did he run tests on me while I was asleep? Access my medical history? I shudder at the thought, my mouth too dry to scream and shout all the things I wanted to. My eyes widen as he comes near me with the first shot, his three-fingered hands covered in latex gloves. I struggle violently against the straps, trying desperately to escape. A loud sob is pulled from my chest as more tears pour down my face, fear crashing over me in strong waves.

The turtle pauses, looking down at my mess of a form. A minute goes by as he watches me panic, his right eye twitching. He looks down at the needle in his hand and frowns, tapping his thigh repeatedly with the unoccupied hand. He looks back at me, ignoring my teary face. “I was not aware you had trypanophobia. I apologize, but I really need to do this. If you close your eyes, it’ll be easier. Your struggling will only make it worse.

I suck in a shaky breath, trying to speak. I blank at his words, my eyes still trained on the needle. I assumed he thought I had a fear of needles, and not of being injected with a mystery liquid. Hopefully my death would be quick. He reaches out with one hand and stabilizes my arm, bringing the needle dangerously close to my flesh. I sob harder, trying to jerk away from him, but to no avail. I take one last look at the world around me, expecting to not be able to see it for much longer. I close my eyes and try not to scream as the needle enters my skin.

reader x turtles doodle dump because i simply do not have it in me to clean these up

bonus raph one. it wasn't gn so I wasn't sure whether to include it but hey ho! he deserves soft love also