ruevealing | folkmore inbox.

It's a sound idea. You'll need desk or table space for this anyway. [Shelving that confusing 'kiss' issue for now, Donnie wheels the dolly inside and arranges the box artfully in front of some nearby curtains, for backdrop. He turns one of Rue's chairs around to face the curtains and nods toward it, grasping his wrists behind his back. Formal showing, this.]

[Oh! This is quite the spectacle!

But Rue is all too happy to oblige, settling in at the chair that's been pulled out for them, reaching forward to rest a great paw against an equally giant box. Their head swivels to meet Donnie's eyes, lashes fluttering demurely.]

May I?

No! [Jumps in front of the box, arms spread] I have to show it to you! There's a presentation- I decided to forgo the slides, too much to carry, but it's very important that I explain all the features to you! [So you can be impressed!!!!]

[Their paw withdraws as if burned, feathers puffing up around their head and neck in surprise.]

Forgive me! I did not mean to presume. [Just going to politely clasp their paws in their lap, to show that he has their absolute attention.] Please, I am ready for your presentation, Donatello.

[Well...well okay, now that that's been addressed.

Donnie assumes his previous position next to the box before reaching down and pulling on a little pull string that had been laying innocently on top. When pulled, the sides of the box collapse and spout purple confetti into the air with a party-horn sound! (A small roomba the size of a dinner plate rolls out of back box to immediately start cleaning up the confetti, but that's not important.)]

Behold! You may think it just a simple sewing machine. [Because it definitely looks like one. A nice one, granted; metal and gleaming, painted a hot pink with white and silver accents, and decidedly larger than a normal human sewing machine would be.] -and sure, it has those functions. I have scaled the device up to accommodate your size, and have introduced several features you may find helpful.

[Grabs the thing up in his disturbingly buff nerd arms and deposits it onto the nearby table with an oof and a heavy KA-THUMP. Beckons Rue closer and starts to point out details around the machine.] A talon filer, for when you find yourself accidentally catching them on clothes and cannot interrupt the creative process to handle it elsewhere. Here, secondary and tertiary spool pins, as well as well as a sensor for automatic tension adjustment on the bobbin. It's self-threading, so you shouldn't have to do anything but exchange spools here and insert the thread through the feeder here.

[Sneaks a glance at Rue to make sure they're paying attention and don't fucking hate literally everything about this, but presses onward regardless.] Any scraps, swatches, or other miscellaneous garbage can be inserted in this compartment here, where it will be immediately atomized and transformed into various scents via this diffuser. Options right now are limited to floral, apple cider, and new car, but I'm working on more.

And this compartment here is where you can put a gun. Or other weapons I suppose, but I did make it gun-shaped.

[Donnie was not joking about having a presentation.

And at the beginning, there is simply so much going on that Rue hardly knows where to look! The sprinkling of purple confetti! The little robot cleaner friend! The resounding blare of the party horn!

But just as quickly as they are overwhelmed, the confetti trickles to the ground and the most beautiful sewing machine they've ever laid eyes on is suddenly filling their vision. Thank goodness that Donnie runs right into his spiel, pointing out every detail and running through commentary about it, because the tears that immediately prick at Rue's big eyes leave them feeling a little tongue-tied.

It is their size, not just another human-made sewing machine that Rue must conform to, always hunched over so uncomfortably just to use a machine that so barely was made for clothes of their size either. But this one is tall and decidedly sturdy, all gleaming metal and hot pink, with just enough height for the full of their paw to guide the fabric, not just the careful dance of swiping talons through.

And speaking of, a file! Simply for their talons, in those rare instances when their projects catch against their claws, the thread tangling quickly if Rue does not catch on quick enough. And Donnie has planned for it without Rue ever mentioning it was a problem, somehow he just knew.

Oh, they feel so ridiculous as he continues and their very beak begins to tremble with emotion. And still somehow there is more, extra space for spools, for threading, spaces to store fabric scraps and unspun thread for elimination -

And then Donnie mentions the gun compartment and the laugh that bursts from Rue is a true laugh, a little wet and choked with emotion but decided ecstatic as well.]

Donnie, I can not believe this. That you - that you would go through so much effort just for me. To put so much thought into a gift this beautiful and perfect -

[Their eyes shimmer with unshed tears, but it's by their pure will alone that they do not fall.]

I do not own a gun but I'm certain I can find something for that compartment. Oh, come here. [They are on their feet immediately, just so they can drag the turtle in for a hug, their wings all trembly with emotion as they squeeze him.] Thank you. Thank you, my sweet boy. I am so deeply touched by this incredible gift.

[It's actually sometimes difficult to tell when one's eyes are filling with tears when one has ginormous dark eyes with ginormous Maybelline-esque eyelashes; at least, up until the tears spill over.

Donnie had half-expected Rue to want to touch him somehow in thanks because over the months he has clued in that they tend to hold back a lot around him, solely through observation and noting all of Rue's tiny aborted movements in his direction. He's gotten used to the stops and starts, had anticipated more of that here, but nope he gets swept up in truly huge, feathery, ticklish arms and held right there in sensory prison. He kind of wants to itch the skin of his arms clean off.

Physically, that's how he feels.

But somewhere inside, a little turtle toddler absolutely jubilant about his father patting his head, tenderly cradling his cheek and calling Donnie his dear, brilliant, lovely boy surges forward like a tsunami. That brilliantly warm feeling, like sinking into a hot bath, fills him up like a beaker with golden-sweet bliss. Value. He has value. He's treasured, he's so desperately wanted and needed. He provided something personal, something vital, to someone he cares about and they told him in no uncertain terms that he is cherished for it.

Donnie squirms, unsure of how to move within the hug. The feathers are a bit too much. The tenderness can never be surrendered, ever, Donnie really would rather claw his skin off. He settles for squirming a bit more before turning around in Rue's hug, his battle shell-covered back to their front, shifting their wings up atop his shoulders instead of around his arms and clasping their wrists for them in front of his plastron. There. Much better.] I'm not sure how you've been keeping up with all the commissions you've been receiving otherwise, but even if you use your, rrm, magic, [will use the word for Rue, only for Rue, without (much) reservation] to sew everything, I assumed you would like a rest from that every so often. If your magic is anything like my own family's mystic powers.

[Fiddles with his fingers, sneaking a glance up at Rue, craning his neck slightly to look over his shoulder at their expression.] You...do like it? You're not just placating me, correct? I don't want to give you something that won't be useful to you.

Edited 2023-09-19 03:26 (UTC)

[With anyone else, the shuffling around and moving them into position would be just a touch offensive, but it is Donnie and the fact that he is even allowing their open physical affection at all means everything to them.

So he readjusts them and Rue is all too happy to oblige, settling there against his back, which honestly makes for the perfect position to plant a few head kisses against him, as their arms tighten carefully around him.]

Donnie, I more than like it, I love it! Look at how beautiful it is! I mean, certainly I admire the customization and all of the loving thought you have put into creating me my very own dream sewing machine, but the aesthetic alone is quite, ah, fire, I think the slang is.

Oh my dearest heart, I adore this and you. I -

[One more affectionate nuzzle to the side of his head before they pull away, only so that Rue can catch Donnie's gaze proper, their paws resting at his shoulders, but only just barely, a feather light touch.]

You may think me quite the foolish old owlbear, but I have long since thought of you like a son to me. No one has ever given me a gift like this before, but truly, just having you in my life is the greatest gift I have ever been given. Though this is a very easy second, I must say.

So are you- I mean, [Donnie clasps his hands over Rue's pushing their paws down on his shoulders more firmly. This is a lot. He's going to need to process this in pieces, later. He must confirm this one thing, first.] That is, would you equate this feeling you're having with...pride? In me?

[Rue's expression goes soft with disbelief. Was there ever any doubt? Has Rue never said it so plainly before to him? Well, they will have to change that immediately.]

Donatello - [A gentle squeeze at his shoulders, reassuring and loving.] I am so deeply proud of you.

[KOALA CLING. There is- yes indeed, those are four limbs completely off the ground, because they are as wrapped around Rue as is possible. He is hanging off their front like a baby marsupial, face buried in their clothes. That muffled eeeeeeeeeeeyesssssssssssss is mostly likely Donnie shrieking into their clothes and feathers as he clings.

Parental figure-

Pride-

Parental figure is proud- He is smart- Parental figure has called him smart and is proud-]

[There was absolutely no way that Rue could have prepared themself for that cling, but Donnie hangs onto them and they are more than able to share the weight, their wings draping around over his back, allowing him that moment to bask in how proud they are of him.]

You are such a darling. And I hope you know that I shall be paying you back in new outfits for the rest of the year for a gift this thoughtful.

[the no touching rule always flies out the window as soon as donnie feels unbridled joy

As it is, Donnie still clings as he beams up at Rue around their feathers. He's never been one to shy away or fumble for humility and that's certainly the case here, but he can't deny just how good it feels to have- to have this, someone whose opinion really matters, recognizing all the work he does and genuinely thankful for it. Being proud of it. Dad, he- well.

That's something to ponder over later, on his own.] I would never try to dissuade you from that. But you let me know the second you have any issues with the machine! Even if it's working fine but isn't working as ergonomically as you would like. I doubt that will happen, but one must leave room for improvement or risk stagnation.

[Then he better be prepared for the kisses pecked on top of his head while he clings, Rue's wings wrapping around the teen's shell so that they can spin him gently in place.]

I will drop everything I am doing and contact you immediately. On my honor. Though truly, Donnie, I can not think of a single improvement or change that I could make. It is as if you thought of everything, considered exactly what a being of my height and shape would need. I can not put into words how touched I am by this.

[a gentle inhale, as if they can barely remember to breathe after all of this excitement]

Thank you.

[Mmmm yes, okay. Buries face back in feathers and clothes. Hm. He can get accustomed to this, for sure.]

...welcome.

[Honestly, if Donnie wants to stay clung to them like a koala, Rue will happily go about their day with this giant turtle pressed into their feathers.]

While you are here, shall you like some of my bland, inoffensive cookies? Or anything else?

I would like some, yes. [Okay, not letting go, so enjoy that cling for a bit longer Rue]

[it is criminal that this beautiful image must remain between the two of them alone. this should be shared with the world!

But given their size difference, it's no trouble at all for Rue to move with him clinging like this, so to the kitchen they go!]

What about a juice? Are you thirsty after your trek over here?

[don't you dare tell another soul living or otherwise] Apple juice would be great. White grape juice is an acceptable alternative. [Wow!! He gets carried by Raph on the regular so this isn't anything new, but the feathers are new! And Raph might be the biggest brother (who is almost sometimes like a parent) but this is a new parent. How novel. It's like he's little again!]

White grape is a new one to me. I will have to keep some in the fridge for your future visits. But apple, apple I can do.

[Look, Rue is living like this, which is why they do not even hesitate to slip him his juice box while he clings, taking the plate of cookies along with them back to the living room to settle on the couch.]

You must tell me what you need made. I want my very first project on my new machine to be for you.

[Donnie does finally detach once they're seated, if only because he absolutely does not want to accidentally get a mouthful of feathers while he's snacking, but he's more than happy to talk about all his fashion desires with Rue. There are many. Some of very questionable taste.]

folkmore inbox.

inbox

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

close?