I can totally see Splinter having to literally hide all the binkies from Raph as a kid, because he has such a strong oral fixation, the boy sucked on those things well past toddler hood.
Maybe his aggression came from lack of having his soothing mechanism against insecurities.
Does anyone one else have that One Fic? You know, the one that you can’t get out of your head. Like, the one you read years ago and still think about? The one where you’re fairly certain you’ll be one your death bed and still thinking about how hard it hit you?
Reply and tell me. Or post about it and tag me. Give me links if you can find it. Or just talk about it if it’s long since deleted. I want to know. Let’s talk about our old loves in this fandom.
OMG I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED. I panicked when I realized I forgot to bookmark it all those months ago and I remember being obsessed with it when I first found it
The Race to Find The Cure (Donatello x reader) Chapter 2
The warehouse was quiet for the night. Donne sat up at his work station, adjusting his microscope to peer down at a sample of fluid he’d gathered from a fallen infected. He hummed as he magnified in and saw the molecules of mutagen mixed with other bodily things.
“Need a centrifuge,” he muttered, trying to see past the particulate matter to get a good look. His had gotten left behind in the sewers when it was overrun, and they were not equipped to take that task on currently. Home would be theirs again, one day. Just not then. He pulled away from the microscope and saw the map out of the corner of his eye with the big red circle around the lab he was eyeing. “They’ll have a centrifuge,” he said. We just have to get there. Hold out for me, [y/n], I’m going to get you what you need.
This study was useless if he couldn’t separate the actual mutagen from the other bodily fluids. He sighed and stood up. Listening in on the chatter between the two unknowns on the walkie-talkies had become a kind of past time for him; sometimes, he tuned in just for some background noise. He did that, deciding to dig out his journal from his box of few possessions to write down everything so far. He scribbled his pen to activate the ink. The radio next to him crackled as a man’s voice on the other end asked; “You still alive, jackass?”
“November 6th, 2013—11:42 PM
Subject: Worst day since Splinter
Back at the journal again. I have to document everything, it’s how I am. Who’s going to tell the story otherwise? Or maybe I’m coping. Doesn’t matter anyway.
I haven’t gotten the time to mention until now we’ve been going out a lot trying to get supplies before winter. All hands on deck lately. Everything was going pretty smooth, which is weird because it’s nevereasy with us, but we all needed a break. I sure wasn’t complaining. But something always has to go wrong, right? Because it did. I don’t want to be bitter, but it’s getting really hard.
I’m afraid I’ve made some miscalculations. [Y/N]’s infected. And now I’m sitting here writing it down in a diary. Shouldn’t I be working? I can’t even think. Well, barely. I just need a breather. I’ll be quick.
There’s not much to say about the events leading up to it. Like I said, it was all going somewhat okay. We just wanted to go find supplies to make our lives easier when it gets cold. We can’t be stuck in here freezing all winter! But some of those infected are quiet. (More like half asleep due to lack of a food source.) Nobody knew it was behind those crates. We were even checking for that very thing. But [y/n] was just a little close and a little too slow, and all it takes is a couple of seconds to get the jump on you. We should be glad she’s not a goner…but I feel like a failure. I know everyone’s blaming themselves a little. I don’t know if it’s anyone’s fault, if I’m being honest. Cruel luck like usual? I’ll get back to you on that.
So, that’s been it, until now. She went into shock afterwards; I stabilized her as quickly as possible. It’s been six hours since the attack and I’ve been checking on her constantly, but the disease can be unpredictable. Everyone’s worried, but I can’t give an answer right now. I. don’t. know.
I need to get in gear and solve this thing. She’s already showing signs. I think we’ve got a little time though, so I have to make use of every minute. Can’t waste it on sleeping. I know everyone’s worried, they’ve been on my shell about it for days, but I just can’t stop. Even Casey tried to get me to walk away from my research to go sleep. I snapped at him…I didn’t mean to, but they don’t understand. I think I’m getting closer. Meanwhile, I’ve bought her and me some time in by using a very diluted form of Retro-Mutagen to keep the mutating at bay. It’ll only be so long before that stops working. And knowing that I’d been touching her, no doubt I’ve shed some DNA on her, but I think I’ve got it under control. April helped her out with the bath. She did the best she could. Mutagen is highly reactive towards biomaterial, so I don’t want to introduce anythingthat could possibly react with the Ooze currently in her and trigger any changes. No change for as long as possible is a good thing, or we’re going to have more problems on our hands.
Even writing this now I still feel guilty. Raph tried to comfort me, I guess…emphasis on “tried”, but that didn’t help. I should have been looking out more. And now I’m worried that I won’t make it in time. Can a fully infected person be cured? It’s never possible in movies, but if this disease is a virus literally mutated by Ooze, then my answer is somewhere here. I just have to find it. Retro-Mutagen concentrate hasn’t worked. Curse the viral part of this; it’s thrown a wrench in my plan and now I don’t know what to do. But I won’t give up. [Y/N] needs me.
In the meantime, I’ve been picking through the different frequencies with my radio receiver and found one two unknown people have been using. Knowing how Lower Manhattan’s a mess, they’re actually probably somewhere near us, but I don’t need to find them to listen in on their convos. What’s got me more worried on top of everything else is that these two were just in hiding from a horde in the city. Lucky for them, they escaped, but bad news for us, because it looks like it’s coming our direction. Unless it magically decides to change course, but New York is becoming a wasteland, anyway. Last night running back home we found infected on the rooftops. Who knew they knew how to open stairwell doors? Are they really as brainless as we think?
It turns out that the mutagen part of all of this behaves like it normally does. While travelling through one of the not-overrun sewer passages, we found a person half mutated with a rat.It was…chewing on something. I didn’t get close enough to look. But my heart skipped a beat. I swear my stomach fell. Even just for a split second, I think all of us saw Master Splinter in him. I couldn’t believe it. Leo’s hands were shaking; I saw the blades trembling. Logically, all of us knew it couldn’t have been Father.. We laid him to rest already. He’s not coming back. We ended up just going back from where we came. I had to hold Raph back. I’m glad I did. I don’t think any of us are strong enough for what we would have had to do if we hadn’t silently backed away.
Well, it’s just past 12 o’clock. I hate to wake [y/n] up to take her temperature, but it has to be done. I’ll have to monitor it very carefully.
Donnie signing off”
November 7th, 2013—4:34 AM
Medical notes
• 12:00 AM: temperature reading 99.1°
•3:00 AM: no change.
• [Y/N] says she tired. That’s all for now.
I’m pretty tired, too.“
“So, what’s up with this ‘horde’?” Raph asked while twirling his sais. He propped a leg up on the busted window sill he sat on, looking out at the dark city as a chill came through the air. His leg dangled idly on the outside as if the cold didn’t bother him. Everyone was gathered up in the open makeshift living room keeping warm by the fire drum. Donnie held out his cold hands near the flame. He hated the cold. Raph set his sais down in his lap, briefly seeing his reflection in the metal. “Two days, huh…” he mumbled. He turned his head to hide to hide his face.
“More or less,” Donnie responded. “Technically less,” he added plainly. No one seemed to appreciate the dry humor, so he shrunk a little with an apologetic smile, saying, “But, that’s plenty of time for us to pack up and hit the road. I’ve been fixing up the van just for this, you know. The Shelleraiser and Party Wagon won’t fail us yet…right, Raph?”
Raph looked over at the warm glow of the circle, seeing everyone close together and [y/n] there as well. Mikey passed around the cans food that Leo had rationed out that night. Raph smiled a bit and shook his head. “It better not break down on us halfway there, or I think we’re going to be the roadkill,” he said, hopping down from the window. He joined everyone around the fire and settled down. “Come on, don’t be shy with those peaches.”
Donnie noticed [y/n]’s distracted gaze at the fire. The way the light danced off her glum face and made the dark circles apparent. Donnie wasn’t all brains and no feeling; he could sense her gloom, and for a minute, felt powerless—what could he do besides try his hardest?
He contemplated. The firelight shone in his russet eyes as he thought, with the idea that the warm glow against the backdrop of the blue city out the window reminded him of a sunrise.
Raph sighed and leaned back onto the cushions they’d fixed to a pallet. He chuffed. “Two days. It feels like we’ve already been here so long,” he said. “It’s been two months, right?” He glanced at Leo for confirmation, who prodded the fire with his poker.
“Yeah,” Leo answered. "Wow, that’s weird to say.”
Mikey tossed his empty can behind him into their trash bin, falling back into soft cushion. “Time doesn’t fly when you’re not having fun,” he said.
Fun. He was right; they hadn’t had fun in ages. Donnie suddenly had his lightbulb moment.
[Y/N] needed a spirit-lifter then just as much as she needed medical attention. Donnie couldn’t let her keep sulking alone with herself, and then putting on a brave face when he came to check on her. It was only moments like when she stared at the fire that she left anyone know how bad it was all seeming.
I can’t only try my hardest. I can’t just be her doctor. I have to be her friend, Donnie answered his former question, knowing what he wanted to do.
“[Y/N],” he said. He set down his can. “How much energy do you have?”
She could tell he had an idea, the boy’s face always showed it. Her eyes left the fire as she looked at him with interest. “I’m not totally inert. What do you have in mind?” she inquired, curious.
Everyone gave Donnie a wondering look which he winked to as he checked the time. “When’s the last time you saw the sunrise?” he asked, already on his feet and holding out a hand for her to take. “If we head out now, we can find a good spot,” he tempted. Donnie’s face was sweet as ever, as if everything would be alright for a few minutes.
Any of the boys or April could have questioned that decision, but they kept their mouths shut, understanding that they’d want to be allowed a moment of peace in all the chaos if they were in her shoes. Leo held back his reluctance.
A chance to see the sunrise over New York City again? She could muster energy for that. She wiped her eyes of the lingering tiredness and grabbed his hand, letting him help pull her up. “I don’t think I’ve seen a sunrise in a year. It sounds great, Donnie,” she responded. “I’ll just…give me a minute and I’ll be ready to go,” she said, putting some pep in her step as she left to go to the lab. Donnie considered following her to see what she was up to, but decided against that, instead going to get his staff before they left. Casey strode up to his side while he geared up.
“Goin’ out?” queried Casey, resting his bat on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t she be in bed or something?”
Donnie grabbed his grappling hook and fastened it to himself. “We’re not going far, Jones, and she could use the vitamin D,” he said with a roll of his eyes.
“What about nasties?”
Slipping his staff into his belt, Donnie replied, “Infected don’t attack other infected. They’re like, invisible to them. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about more than you.”
Casey didn’t say anything and watched as Donnie went to his lab to find [y/n] slipping in through the door from outside, wiping her chin of something, he noticed. She coughed a little and composed herself just as he spotted her. “Some fresh air,” she laughed, and staved off a thick cough. She felt like there was something in her throat. “We can go now. Lead the way.”
She walked out into the dim morning, pulling her coat in. Donnie stood still a few seconds watching her, somber. With a deep breath, he set out after.
Moving swiftly through the low rooftops, Donnie was sure to avoid infested buildings. About a mile away was the one he had his eye on, the highest accessible point nearby for them to see the horizon from. He helped her out wherever he needed to—which were a lot of places—but, eventually, they came to and were only level with the second story of the building, and [y/n] was too weak to climb like him. The grappling hook wouldn’t hold two people, either.
“Here, get on my shell,” Donnie instructed, taking a knee. He looked over his shoulder with a smile. “Don’t worry, I won’t drop you. I’m no Raph, but I’m pretty strong.”
“If you’re sure,” she said. He hooked his hands underneath her knees and stood up as she adjusted her grip on his shoulders. He was telling the truth—he handled her weight well, for the thinnest of the turtles. He definitely was as, if not stronger than he looked. She gazed up at the roof. “It’s pretty high up!”
Gauging what the easiest way up there would be, he replied confidently, “And no problem for a ninja.”
He started the climb up, utilizing stairwells, ac units, water towers and higher roofs to ascend as far as they could the easy way. He vaulted a gap between buildings and grabbed into the beam of a billboard, pulling them up. He denied himself the pause he almost took remembering when it felt as though the city was passing themby under their feet as they ran the rooftops at night, not himpassing these still, empty streets. A wave of nostalgia washed by as he made his last jump, gripping the edge of a window. Back then, the city had been alive. People shouting, cars honking all through the night, sirens; the ruckus of New York had always been a background noise in his life, and the silence was unsettling. He channeled his momentary glimpse of sadness into his drive to fix everything. All that he needed was in that lab.
Grunting, he heaved them over the lip of the building and let her down. He checked the time on his T-Phone—6:06 AM. They’d made it just in time.
“Perfect timing,” he said, satisfied. They walked to the edge of the building, the grey-blue sky above them slowly getting lighter. On the horizon, the sun was starting to peak, an orange strip of light spanning the edge of the world.
At least if something were to happen, she’d gotten to see a sunrise again, [y/n] thought as she looked out. The city was foggy, with slivers of pale light starting to filter through buildings. With bleary eyes, she couldn’t quite distinguish everything, but she knew it had to be even better clear.
“It’s pretty,” she said softly. She turned to him. “Donnie, thanks for—”
He looked surprised. His mouth hang slightly open, eyes trained in the distance instead of the sun. “No way,” he breathed out. His hand instinctively reached for his staff. She tilted her head seeing his concern and was about to ask what was wrong, but squinted her eyes instead, and saw it: a moving mass of unknown proportions plodding through the streets in the distance. In silence, Donnie’s brain worked out the math.
A population of approximately 8.3 million as of 2013. A few thousand evacuated and a few thousand fled as the plague broke out—subtract about twenty thousand, he guessed. A lot of people unaccounted for, there. Whatever the numbers were, they were huge.
“Oh, my God…” [y/n] whispered.
Seeing it for himself, time felt like it has come to a halt. Both of them simply stood there for a minute straight looking out at the enormous cluster of infected, neither saying anything. Donnie felt his eyes go wide. He’d been expecting bad, but not like this. Reality hit them; they needed to get home and pull the vehicles around. Immediately.
Donnie was able to break from his trance before she had, so he touched her upper arm, getting her attention. “We gotta tell the others,” he said with a sudden sense of urgency. He pulled her along with him, “Right now. Let’s go!”
Based off of my apocalypse AU that I created for Raph a while back. Here is Donnie’s version. :) (written in third perspective but using [y/n] in place of a name.)
Running out of time.
The solution had to be somewhere amongst all his papers.
Time is running out, thought Donnie again as he stared long and hard over his notes. Data he’d gathered and extrapolations he’d made over and over again—what was missing? He knew how to create retro mutagen. He had the formulas. He had the tools. He had the mind. But there were holes in his research. Things he had no access to. This wasn’t just Ooze he was dealing with; it was a hybrid, pathogen and mutagen spliced together to make a catastrophe that spread. And it spread fast.
He glanced over at the map pinned to a corkboard, routes and places of interest he’d drawn sprawling all over it. But one fat red line stuck out the most: the projected path of the horde that was currently accumulating. Just another addition to his list of problems.
Donnie’s brain worked every which way. His attention was divided between a set of different things, a heavy burden on his drooping shoulders. Between the cure, taking care of other things that needed to be done, and her, he was stretched thin.
Behind him on a mattress on the cold floor was his newest patient, which he was reminded to check the temperature of when he heard rustling in the sheets. His tires eyes lifted from the papers quickly, grabbing a thermometer off the shelf to head over to the girl starting to toss awake. Without fail, he felt a pang of guilt every time.
If anyone was strong when it came to this situation, it was him. And maybe Leo. Though their leader was preoccupied, he still came to check in, and even he had a grimace at it. Donnie knelt down. Don’t look bleak, he instructed himself as he pulled a tender smile and took one of her hands. “Sleepy, are we?” he asked as she roused awake. “Gotta take your temperature again. How do you feel?”
She sat up against the wall, obviously drained but fighting sleep. She, too, managed to force a smile through the waves of nausea and headaches as if to say “all better”, which made her happy too see his face soften. “I feel a little hot, but that’s all,” she said.
Then the virus hasn’t progressed, he thought with a glint of hope. We still have some time. That was all he needed.
He gave her the thermometer, her flinching back as their fingers touched. “Won’t you get it too being around me like this?” she asked with concern, having put some distance between them.
“Well, you aren’t developing pustules or any open sores, so it’s okay for now,” he replied, handing the thermometer back to her. And when she did? He’d copped a hazmat suit and more than enough disposable gloves a month prior. They both waited with bated breath for the little beeps. Both jumped as a gunshot sounded from the platform upstairs—it was Casey picking off incoming infected from the window again, as was his evening shift. A straggler here and there was not welcome in their compound. Casey was quick to dispatch any that wandered too close so long as his pistol had a silencer.
The thermometer beeped, and Donnie took it, inspecting the numbers. 100.1°. Not great.
She saw his face fall ever so slightly. His brow ridges stitched as he slipped the notebook from his belt and scratched in a log of her temperature, among a growing list. It had been on a steady incline since three days prior and the…incident.
Hearing the shot fire above them, she played with her thumbs. She knew Donnie was under a lot of stress. And to add onto that? She felt guilty.
“Seems like Casey’s becoming quite the sharpshooter,” she commented in the silence. “And seems like we’ve been hearing those more often. I wonder why the infected are out more these days.”
Donnie set his notebook on the tray next to the mattress and sat back on his legs. “They’re starving,” he said, “most of the city’s been turned, so…they have to look. But they can survive a lot longer without food than us.“ The air between them was filled with a looming feeling of uncertainty. Donnie was sure he could find the cure. He’d done it before for mutants, he could do it for infected people, too. But time of was the essence and resources were running out. He had to work harder.
“Hey, not so different from us, then,” she joked in a low voice, letting her head fall back and eyes close shut. Being sick was really taking a toll. How much longer would she be able to keep a straight face for him with the body aches, the skin burning, and the chills? Oh, the chills. Along with the fever, it was turning Autumn in New York City. She cracked an eye open to find him deep on thought.
“Donnie,” someone called from the entrance to his lab space. There were some empty crates they’d stacked up and around the corner to give him some privacy to work. He snapped out of his thoughts it to find Leo leaning in. Leo motioned with his head for him to follow.
Another family meeting, she thought in dry humor. Probably a game plan on how to deal with her when push came to shove. Which was looking inevitable, but she’d never let Donnie know how she felt that way.
“I’ll be back, okay?” Donnie said, reassuring her of the fact that he would not leave her side for long. He’d been practically glued to it, even moved the mattress into the back corner of his pseudo lab to be able to pay more attention to her. They could always count on Donnie for that.
“I’ll be here,” she mumbled, laying down to face the wall.
Donnie met at kitchen table with everyone else. They were all a little awkward and downtrodden, but Leo poised himself, clearing his throat. “There have been more infected on the move here lately. Casey, you say you shot three just in the last two hours?” Leo started. His eyes flitted over to Casey, who sat halfway on the table. Casey nodded and continued chewing his gum; the sound was driving Donnie up the wall. Casey acted flippant as ever, but even he was troubled by the turn of events.
“Hit ‘em right in the head, bull’s-eye,” said Casey, pretending to fire a finger pistol.
Leo turned his attention back to Donnie. “And [y/n]? How is she?” he inquired.
Feeling everyone’s expectant eyes on him, Donnie went by all of them with his, one by one, and answered: “Stable. Doing….okay.” He wasn’t known to be obtuse on purpose, but everyone around the table could tell he wasn’t going to speculate to them. That was fine, thought Leo. She still had time; in turn, they did as well. Leo would have to make a note to check in with her more often to gauge their next move. For now, they had other issues.
“Look, guys,” Leo said with a sigh, “I know you like the warehouse—I do too—but it’s just not safe here anymore. We’ve had two fence breaches this month and it’s only going to get worse from here. We’re in a bad spot. We need to move. I’m thinking upstate, less people and April’s got a farmhouse out there.”
Raph was glaring down at the table. “So, what? We get pushed out of our old home in the sewers and now we’re getting pushed out of here, too? Is that what we’re doing now? Being pushovers?” he spat. “What’s a few more infected? Last time I checked, we didn’t have a problem. Just fix up the fence and we’ll be fine.” As usual, he focused on Leo, his mounting anger directed right at his older brother. Leo ignored the bitterness in his tone and continued.
“Donnie, tell them what you heard,” Leo said, rubbing his face.
Way to put me on the spot. His fingers drummed the edge of the table as all but Leo waited to hear the latest update, but they weren’t going to like what he had to say. “I—I picked up some radio chatter about a week ago about a horde supposedly starting to form,“ he said uncomfortably. “I didn’t know if it was true or not, so I watched the channels over the last few days, and…yeah, a horde’s on the move, and it’s headed our way. Pockets of infected are assimilating and I don’t know why.”
Scowling, Raph turned heel and stormed out of the room with Mikey on his tail trying to get him back. April put a gentle hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Let him cool off,” she said, and Mikey reluctantly came back round, downcast.
“So…that’s it. We need to pack up. I know, I like it here, too. Donnie, how much time do we have?” Leo looked his way.
“Not enough,” he always wanted to say, but he bit his tongue and opted for an estimate of about two days given that the infected didn’t exactly move with purpose. As far as they were concerned, they only knew one speed when unstimulated, and that was: meander. “Considering it’s not really moving in a straight line and they’re not the smartest, we have some time to get out. If that’s what we want to do. Maybe the warehouse will hold?”
"But my equipment!” he’d wanted to argue. Not all of it would fit between their two vans. He feared for the worst that he wouldn’t be able to save anyone without it. If they left, his only option would be to start from scratch again, and for [y/n], that was not an option.
But to seize a lab was an option.
For everyone’s sake, we can make one petty crime.
Leo crossed his arms, tapping his chin. “I can’t take that chance. It’s my job to keep you guys safe. I’m sorry, Donnie.”
“Whatever,” murmured Casey as he hopped off the table and went to join Raph.
“I miss Master Splinter…” Mikey said under his breath. April sensed some unspoken words between Donnie and Leo and took her leave as well.
And then there were two. Donnie gripped the edge of the table, fixing his gaze away from the harsh orange light dangling above them. After a moment, he spoke. “There’s a lab East of here. A real one. I don’t know its status right now, but if I could just get in and get the research, I know I can make a cure,” he said hopefully. “I need to get to that lab, Leo. If not for the sake of everyone, but for [y/n].”
“What if there are still people there?” Leo asked.
“Then we’ll break in at night,” Donnie responded. “Like we always do. I need to do this, Leo.” Only the fate of [y/n], my family, and possibly the whole country is resting in my hands, no pressure, right?
“We’ll figure it out,” Leo concurred. “We know you’ve got what it takes, Donnie. We’ll do everything we can to help.” He gave a reassuring smile, the one that always makes them feel like it all might just be okay. If Leo could muster one, Donnie could, too, which he did after they all dispersed from the little kitchen table and he headed back downstairs. “[Y/N], do you need any—” he started, but stopped upon seeing her sound asleep. Though mostly comprised of mutagen, the pathogenic part of the virus was the part the body tried its hardest to fight. But the unstable nature of the mutagen made it a tossup of how strong each case would be. Donnie could only hope that hers was a weak one.
On his tips of his toes he went to her side, pulling the fleece blanket up to her neck. It was getting cold out. Anything to make her more comfortable. Then he prepared a bowl of cool water and a rag for if she got hot, placing it on the tray next to her for her to find in case he wasn’t there. His hand lingered there hovering above her shoulder, wanting to feel the warm comfort of knowing that she was in fact still with them and still had a chance. Should he wake her up to tell her Leo’s verdict? It seemed like the right choice. But she looked far more peaceful than any of them in her own world just then, and he wanted to keep it that way only for a little longer, so he whispered a goodnight and went back to his station.
Seeing that she was taken care of, he quietly resumed his work over yonder, unaware that she had been laying still, but fully awake.
Me posting this anyway even though I’m unsure and don’t know if I’m digging it yet
“That feels like too much sugar.” April mumbled over a fresh cup of coffee around noon, watching Donnie slowly eat his way through a box of cherry poptarts.
Slowly because he was licking the hard frosted coating off first before eating the pastry in about two bites.
Slowly…
Slowly…
Slowly…
And April tried not to squirm as she watched him, thighs pressing together because that’s the way he licked her too…
*Slowly…*
“Not for me.” Donnie mumbled, finishing off another poptart and licking the sticky pink sugar from his lips and fingers before tearing open another packet.
Torture.
“You want me to order you some more boxes?” She hummed, around a slow sip, “I think all the holiday flavors are coming back into stock. Apple cider, pumpkin pie, eggnog, peppermint bark, christmas cookie…” She trailed off and grinned at the pleading look on his face before cooing softly, “One of each?”
I am so sorry I have been gone from this blog for so long. Alot has happened personally and I lost my drive. I didn’t fall out of the fandom though! I still read others work on the DL and now it is time…
I’m gonna start trying to write again!! My goal is to do 5 or more asks in the week. Sadly I had to delete some asks because 1. They were old and 2. I couldn’t derive an image from it, or a feeling per say?
Either way I have 12 asks in my inbox right now and one drawing request I never saw so I will ask nicely you not bombard my box for a bit and once I go through these asks I’ll let you all know :)
