Holds This So Very Very Gently.

SOMEONE DID IT! I WAS THINKING ABOUT TRYING TO DO IT BUT THIS IS SO MUCH BETTER THAN I THOUGHT!!

Hope

I’ve always had a strange affinity when it came to birds, for many a times in low moments, birds of all shapes, sizes and colors have come to grant me moments of reprieve in my melancholy.

There’s always a new bird for each season of my life, and it would appear I’ve entered a new season recently if the sudden increase of close encounters with American Robins have had any indication. Being the curious gal that I am, I took a peak at my Ornithography Book to see what possible symbol awaited for me to discover with these birds. Robins, as I found, are known simply to be messengers of hope and new beginnings. I found it somewhat fitting for that to be the message as a dear close friend mentioned that her orchid named after me was also turning a new leaf. New beginnings are all around me I suppose. I found it also interesting that I haven’t picked up a paper book in almost over a year. Something that often caused me some pain as I used to be able to burn through up to 5 novels a week when back in high school. And yet, on this day of bird watching, I had just closed the pages of a 200+ paged book, the second one in two days.

Made me stop and smile, to think that I was healing. I AM healing. It isn’t exactly the same passion at fervor that had held me captive all those years ago, but I’m getting to the point where sunshine and going out doesn’t feel like a chore anymore.

It’s something I yearn after, something to live for.

Looks like the Robins were right.

*holds this oh so very gently*

CWs: thoughts of suicide, suicide attempt

-

There are no stars here.

There were stars in the country. You remember staring up at them on nights when you couldn't sleep, getting lost in the constellations until your eyes got heavy enough to stay closed. Here, though, when you look up, there's just… darkness. An endless expanse of nothing. Almost like the stars themselves decided it wasn't worth it anymore to stick around. Light pollution, smog, yeah yeah, you know. But maybe… maybe the stars just decided to leave. To start fresh.

Or maybe… they decided to finally rest.

The wind cuts through your thin jacket, chilling your skin. Your feet sway where they hang in the air, over the side of the roof, and when you lean forward, peering down at the city below, you think you should be feeling some sort of vertigo. A bit of fear, maybe. Instead you feel… nothing. Just cold, and stiff, and tired.

You miss the stars. But you understand why they left.

The city is a blur of light and movement. There are thousands of people down there, even now, at this late hour, going about their lives. It's so busy here. Always busy and bustling and alive in a way that doesn't come naturally to you.

Out of place. That's what you are. That's what you've always been. But not for much longer.

“What are you doing?” a voice stage-whispers nearby. You inhale sharply, whirling around to see… nothing. You scan the empty roof, eyes wide, your heart lodged in your throat. There shouldn't be anyone up here. You checked to make sure when you first came up, and there had been no one. If someone had come through the door, you would've heard the heavy, ancient thing creaking on its hinges, and the ladder is to your right, so you would've seen if someone came up the fire escape. So there shouldn't be anyone up here.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you. I know this is weird or whatever,” the voice continues. It sounds like… a guy. Honestly, he sounds like a fucking dork, with the way he's whispering so loudly. “It's just that, like, Leo would kill me if I let myself get seen, but you've been here for a while and it's pretty late, or- I don't know, early? Whatever, but I had to check on you, y'know? So, like, are you good?”

…This is weird. Right? Yeah, this is definitely weird. The guy, wherever he is, doesn't… sound like someone you need to worry about, though. Something about the way he talks makes you feel like… talking back.

“I'm good,” you say slowly, the words feeling foreign in your mouth. You twist around further, still scanning the empty roof for signs of movement. “How did you… get up here?”

“Uhhhhhh same way you did?”

Okay so he's a terrible liar. Despite everything, it makes the corner of your mouth twitch upward. “Right. Sure.” You scoot back and swing both legs back up so you can stand, your muscles protesting from sitting still for so long. You take a few steps away from the ledge, peering around you. “And where are you exactly?”

His voice goes from a stage whisper to a cheesy imitation of a ghost, and yeah, okay, this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to you, but you can't help laughing when he croons, “I'm a hallucinaaatioooon.”

“Uh huh. A hallucination.” There are a few vents on the roof. You start to walk between them, circling each one in the hope that you'll find this guy crouched behind one, but no such luck. “A hallucination that will get in trouble with the big boss for being seen? Is that what you said?”

“Pshhhh Leo isn't the boss of me. Well, I- I guess like sort of, in a way, but not like- I mean- Dad is the- okay, no, we were talking about you. What are you doing up here? Aren't you cold?”

You cross your arms, feeling a bit petulant at the question, though you're not sure why. Yes, you're cold. But it's… fine. “Are you cold?”

“Answering a question with a question, huh?” You hear a nervous chuckle from… somewhere. “Donnie does that when I'm being- oh shit, am I bothering you right now? I am, aren't I? I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I'll- sorry, I'll let you get back to, uh, sitting.”

“No!” You reach out a hand toward nothing, feeling more than a little silly as you continue to look around you in vain. The roof is still empty. “No, please, I…”

You… what? Want to keep talking? Missed feeling seen? Maybe he is a hallucination. Maybe this is your brain's last attempt at stopping you. But… it's true. You do want to keep talking.

That's just pathetic, isn't it? Sad, lonely little girl, wanting to be seen so badly that she'll hallucinate someone to ask if she's okay. There's no one here. You're alone.

You're alone.

Everything you had been feeling before you came up here returns, all at once, like a crashing wave, smothering you beneath the crushing pressure. Your throat tightens. Your lungs burn. There's a fog in your mind and a black hole in your chest and you're shivering but it's not from the cold.

…You've put this off long enough. It's time to stop pretending.

Your shoes scuff against the roof as you approach the ledge. A gust of wind makes you sway dangerously, and you think you hear the voice again, but the roaring in your ears is too loud.

Just one more step. One more step. One more. Just. Just-

Something yanks you by the arm, and you stumble backward, bumping into something big and solid. You're wildly disoriented for a few seconds, still getting your feet steady beneath you, and then you look up to see…

Okay. You're definitely hallucinating.

“What are you doing?!” The man (??) asks, frantic concern etched into every line of his face.

His face. Green skin. No hair. And no ears, and more of a snout than a nose, and a- a mask over his eyes? For some reason? You're officially losing it.

The man snaps his fingers - there are fewer than there should be, you notice - in your face, and his other hand rests on your shoulder, holding you in place. “Focus on me, angel, okay? Can you hear me? Are you okay? What were you doing?”

He's talking so fast you don't even get a chance to answer each question before he's asking the next. You stand there, watching him fret, and Jesus, he's huge. With a big… something? On his back? A shell? You look him up and down and back up again before you finally find your voice.

“Are you a turtle?”

He stops moving, going quiet, and seems to suddenly realize something. His expression turns sheepish, almost afraid, and he pulls his hands back to fidget with them in front of his stomach. You feel unmoored without the weight of his hand on your shoulder. “Yeah, actually. I am. Sorry, I… guess I should've… I'm… I'm Mikey.”

Mikey. There's no way this is real. Still, it feels rude to not introduce yourself in turn. Mikey seems to relax when you tell him your name, but the concern returns quickly, and this time when he speaks, he does so quietly.

“What were you doing?”

Is this… your brain trying to… get you to face what you're trying to do? Somehow? You know what you're trying to do. You've been thinking about it for months. Where were these hallucinations before you quit your job? Before you sold nearly everything you own and let your lease run out and cut off the few people who have tried to make a connection with you since you moved here? You're so tired. You're so…

“You know what I was doing, Mikey.”

There's silence as you stare at each other. You watch his expression shift from confusion to dread to sadness. He looks from you to the edge of the roof and back, and his eyes start to water, and you can't, you can't, you can't do this. That's not fair. It's not fair for your mind to come up with a giant turtle man and then make you feel bad for him being sad. That's fucking ridiculous!

…But you do. Feel bad. Mikey looks lost, and scared, and sad - and you hate it.

“Sorry,” you murmur.

Mikey makes an aborted movement with his arms, then shakes his head. He opens his mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. “Can I hug you?”

Well, now, this really is pathetic, isn't it? When was the last time someone hugged you? Is your brain that desperate for comfort?

…What do you have to lose?

As soon as you nod, Mikey puts his arms around you and pulls you close. His arms shake, just a little, but you feel secure in his hold. Your cheek rests against his chest, and it's… oddly firm. Textured. Warmer than the air, but still a bit cool to the touch. You can feel his chest moving as he breathes. It feels so real. And you… you don't want him to let go.

It's pathetic, fine, sure, whatever, you don't care, but when you start to sob and he only holds you tighter, you're so, so thankful that he's here.

You let yourself cry. He stays quiet, a steady presence that keeps you grounded, and when your sobs turn to sniffles, he's still holding you. It still feels real. It can't be real, it can't be, but honestly? Fuck it. Fuck everything. You really, truly, do not care. It feels good to be held. It feels good to be seen. To be… cared for. Your brain can hallucinate whatever it wants at this point, as long as Mikey is there, too.

When he starts to pull back, you cling to him. Embarrassing. Whatever. He stops pulling away though, holding you close again.

“Do you want me to take you home?” he asks.

“Don't have one anymore.”

“Oh. My bad.”

For some reason, that makes you smile. Your hallucination, which manifested because you were going to kill yourself, is apologizing for not knowing that you were homeless, which you did in preparation for said killing of said self. Yeah, no, that's funny. That's fucking hilarious.

Maybe you're a little sleep deprived, actually.

“Can I…” Mikey hesitates, his fingers tapping against where he's still holding you. “Do you maybe want to stay with me? For tonight? It's pretty late, so… you'll need a place to sleep, yeah? N-Not that I was, like, saying that- I mean, I'll take the couch obviously, so-”

Oh my god. He'd be sort of adorable if he were real. You let him stumble over his words for juuust a little longer before putting him out of his misery. “That sounds nice, Mikey.”

“Ye-Yeah? Okay. Okay. Cool. So I'll. Um.”

You yelp as he shifts his arms and picks you up like it's nothing, carrying you bridal-style. You look up at him with wide eyes, and he smiles hesitantly down at you. “Ready?”

You blink. Ready for… what? But, as you've already clearly established in your head, you're done questioning things. So. You nod.

“Alright. Uh. Don't freak out. Here we go.”

Don't freak- JESUS CHRIST. The air whips past you as he sprints across the roof and leaps into the fucking air. For a split second you're sure that you actually did step off the roof, that the hallucination has finally ended and it was just your brain scrambling to make shit up in the moment before you plummeted to your death - but then you feel the impact of Mikey landing on something and continuing his sprint. Then it happens again, a leap and a free fall and another impact, and then it happens again, and you realize he's- he's jumping between roofs. Carrying you across the city from way up here. How-

Nope. Nope. Not asking questions. Doesn't matter. He's got you. That's what matters. You press closer, loosely curling your fingers around a leather strap that's crossing over his chest. Another leap, and you think you're sort of, kind of, maybe getting used to it. There's a sort of rhythm to it, and you let yourself relax. You wonder if the rhythm is soothing or if you're just that exhausted. You wonder if any part of this is real. You wonder if you're falling asleep or falling to your death.

It doesn't matter, you decide. Either way, you'll finally be able to rest.

Human

While discussing different types of light in my astronomy class today, my professor said,

“100’s of years of science and research just so we can have popcorn in under three minutes. That just seems so human to me.” ~Professor Draper.

AKA the Apocalyptic version of “WhY iS iT sPicY?!”

Replica wip! When you're excited to taste the first snowflake of winter, but it's actually just ash from your brother's giant explosion. D:

Sorry I’ve been a little quiet. Been working hard on Replica and dealing with plenty of social obligations but it’s coming along! So excited to finally finish this and get back onto the main storyline though I will miss these boys.

Sometimes you do crazy things

For the things you love. At least… I think that’s how the phrase goes…

AnYhOo, I may or may not have been planning to make a fool of myself for WEEKS to attempt to do this little photo shoot with @kathaynesart Yeehaw Peepaw shirt just because I adored it so much.

I took Peepaw with me on a little adventure to my friends little farm where he got to meet Scout, Fancy and little Dash. (The wee little devil decided just to nom on my fingers the entire time I was trying to take pictures. It was awesome 😆).

Just wanted to say thank you so much Mz. Kathy for all that you do. You’re a HUGE inspiration to me and I very much want to be like you when I grow up. Please also tell Replica Leo how much I love him too. Big hugs because I’m BIG fan! (I believe in you big guy. You’re doing a great job) 🙌🏼🧡💙🤠

ALSO CONGRATS ON POSTING YOUR COMIC! I literally sat open mouth when you posted like “DAYUM! Now THAT is some serious character development, plot lining and story world building”

I love you forever for this 😆🙌🏼🧡 @saspas-corner

Just came up with my new motto for life:

*puts on my crocs and pulls my hair up into a messy ponytail, eyes narrowed determinedly while holding onto my favorite stuffed animal for emotional support*

Alright buttnuggets, I’m doing this ugly and scared and there’s nothing you can do to stop me

*vibrating at a frequency to shatter glass* Never have I ever loved animatic more than I did after watching this PLEASE GIVE THIS SOME LOVE FOLKS BECAUSE ITS WORTH IT

Hey guys, I DID THE THING>:D

The new chapter of "Odd Man Out" by the @threestripeslider was awesome and as soon as I saw the training scene in there, I thought, hey this is a great opportunity to practice action scenes hehe

I love their duo sm😭😭🧡💙🧡💙

Pretty Random Turtle Thunks: Baby Clothes

Scenario: You’ve just handed said Rise Aged Up Turtle a tiny baby outfit. Whether your child, a niece, nephew, sibling or just some infant you saved from the streets, just know there is now an itty bitty baby human within your general vicinity you are now taking care of

*Rating: Milk🥛(aka for anybody)*

Raph🧸❤️: Tears. Just. So. Many. Tears. Makes Niagara Falls look like a trickle. This man is literally loosing it, hand over mouth can’t stop staring at the ridiculously tiny piece of fabric in his hand. It’s barely the size of his fingers.

…Sweet Pizza Supreme in the Sky…

ItS BaReLy ThE sIzE oF hIs FinGeRs.

You find him hunkered down in his room immediately after the news, surrounded by the remains of over a dozen, half started knitting projects, tears still on his face as he tries to fathom the very idea that something can be that small.

He’s been trying to knit the perfect baby blanket, but his anxieties start to take over every time he starts over. He worries the material is gonna itch the baby’s skin. Is the baby gonna suffocate if the stitches are too tight? Will the baby drown in fabric if he makes it too big? Will the baby get too cold if it isn’t big enough? etc etc etc…

You’re gonna have to talk him down a little bit because he’s gonna work himself into a frenzy getting ready for the baby.

Donnie🤔🟪: Just looks at said article of clothing. Looks back up at you, face slightly pinching in confusion, then back at the outfit. Cue a slow curious thumbing of the fabric. Slow blink. Body suddenly freezes. Eyes comically begin to grow wide. (Give him a second, give him a second; he’s computing) Before his head suddenly snaps back up to stare at you and then almost frantically back down at the garment as the realization hits. There’s no outwardly facial reaction, but the tell tale sign is that his hand fumbles for his goggles as suddenly he’s going full inspection mode.

You are more or less not surprised when the article is met with immediate disdain.

Cue Donnie spending hours researching the best materials for baby clothes. They’re going to be 100% organic and made of the softest and most sterile fabrics he can find. And if he can’t find any brands that suit his high class fancy, well he’ll just design a machine to do the job himself. He’s not the founder of Genius Tech for nothing.

This small infant will be associated with HIM of all people and a such deserves nothing but the highest quality. The best of the best for the best. Obviously.

Your child will be the most finely dressed child of the century after being in the hands of Donnie for more than 5 seconds. There will be a fashion show. Period. Being a baby never looked this good. 

Leo✨💠: Realization that slowly unfurls like a blossom in the morning sun. This turtles face is so bright with excitement when it finally clicks that he literally becomes the sun for like solid minute it’s just that big. However that smile immediately folds into that signature cat smirk that warns of nothing but impending deviousness.

Your child is in trouble, for it now lies in the hands of an evil mastermind, hell bent on causing tomfoolery that will last through out the generations to follow.

He’s always wanted to leave a legacy, and he will seize this moment and milk for all its worth. 

All the dad jokes. All of the horrible groan-inducing, eye-rolling, awful puns. All the stupid slapstick, low brow kind of humor are now practically plastered to your child’s clothing. He thinks he’s the funniest person alive and will do everything his power to infect said child with the same vein of humor.

Also, be warned of leaving your child alone with this man, because if left to his devices for too long, you will receive an unfathomable amount of memes and edited baby photos of your child and Leo in hilarious re-enactments scenes.  

Mikey🎨🧡: Pretty sure a missile just went off Because the squeal of excitement that erupted from this turtle was the only warning you got, before you were all but tackled in a hug like a rugby player, pretty much burst not only the sound barrier but your ear drums as well.

There! Is! So! Much! Excitement!

It. Can. Not. Be. CoNtAiNeD!!!!

It’s literally oozing out of him and man practically reverts into a child himself as the foundation of curiosity is exploded, and you are all but drowned in a relentlessly loving sea of questions. He wants to know EVERYTHING. All the time! Because he just - he just -he just can’t wait! All this time to prepare for another little bundle of joy!  It jumpstarts his creative spark in a way you have NEVER seen before. He now spends his time religiously spent in three locations: locked in close and glued to your hip, a culinary cabaret in which you are very much the honored guest who just has to taste test his newest recipe (your taste buds have never been this happy) or in his art studio working on just one more thing for the baby.

He’s designed his own baby clothes, painted more than enough scenes for multiple nurseries to be completely filled, and even written a couple of his own baby adventure comic books that he is just dying to read the awaited little one.

He’s beyond ecstatic at the thought that there’s now something tinier than him that he can help take care of and love. 

Bottom line: Both you and your baby are about to be welcomed into the arms of the most excited and loving family you will ever have the privilege of knowing. Just…good luck trying to get their arms off of you. Because they will never and I mean EVER let either one of you go. That is both their threat and their promise!

Shout out to the besties who proofread @anobodyinabog and @saspas-corner 🧡

As well as the ever incredible @avery73 (hope it’s ok to tag you in this, but I just realized that I lowkey based my turtle thunks after reading yours, and I wanted to give you the credit. Thought you might enjoy?)