#Bless Mikey for having emotional maturity

[colibrie]

Uncharted Territory, Part 2

Hello all! Sorry for the delay in updates. As always art credit and eternal gratitude to @trilobitepunch for her amazing art and her incredible patience.

Yakai system: 6 hours later

Mikey liked to think of himself as a turtle with many talents. With so many interesting things to do and experience in the universe, he’d never seen the point in limiting himself to just one hobby. He was a chef, an artist, and an acrobat. He was a jedi in training. He knew the importance of timing and strength. He had worked hard to cultivate balance, and perhaps most essentially, patience. Patience was the difference between a masterpiece and a disappointment. Patience was the difference between peace and agitation. Patience was the foundation of all things…

But his patience was three seconds away from socking Leonardo in the face.

“There’s a rock…and another rock…and, oh look, there’s even more rocks!”

“Thank you, Leo.”

“What? I’m just admiring the fascinating scenery,” Leo’s obnoxiously sour-sweet tone matched the sarcastic show of teeth in the smile he flashed. “You take me to the nicest places Angelo.”

Mikey pulled in a slow and subtle breath, fighting the urge to clench his jaw or bite his lip as he carefully maneuvered their ship around a small asteroid at the edge of a medium sized cluster. He knew what his elder brother was doing. He’d been doing it since he’d woken up crabby from his far too short nap, mood souring further when Mikey had refused to move from the pilot seat. He was trying to get under Mikey’s shell to provoke a reaction. Which really wasn't that unusual. There wasn’t a creature alive who could out petty Leo when he was in the mood to be difficult. The taller turtle seemed to have a sixth sense for spite, an innate talent that zeroed in on the most obnoxious and annoying elements of a situation then dialing them eleven.

It didn’t help that the environment beyond the view screen was the definition of desolation. The Yakai system was indeed comprised of a massive asteroid field, large chunks of dull grey rock stretched in all directions, dust and debris hanging limply in the space between. Two small planets sat lifelessly in the center of it all, surfaces dyed the by gas clouds of the sickliest yellow, green and cream. They were hues he would have immediately rejected from his palette, their image as appalling as they were disheartening. To top it off, the absence of wakes or other disturbances in the area suggested that no one had transversed the asteroid field in a long time.

Mikey was loath to admit it, but the hope that had burned so brightly inside him after their success with the holocron was slowly shrinking. The connection to that bonfire at his core was dwindling, heat leeched away by the seemingly ever-growing black hole of unanswered questions and unaddressed baggage trailing them. The violent introduction to his “deceased” brothers, the unsettled conflict between Leo and their father, the unusually vague details of their plan, and the anxious insecurity of meeting someone who had played such a pivotal role in their childhoods, but who’s image he could not call to mind, no matter how far back he dug in his memories. It was all starting to feel…heavy.

“Hate to say it baby bro, but it looks like this was a waste of-”

“We haven’t even checked half of the cluster!” Mikey snapped, cringing slightly as Leo locked onto the irritation in his voice.

“Running down every speck of dust isn’t going to make someone not here magically appear,” Leo argued, flashing an edged smirk that made Mikey want to kick him in the teeth.

He forced himself to relax, to soften his next words into something closer to a gentle tease. “Don’t count your smooka’s before they hatch Leo. I’d hate to have to embarrass you in it in front of Master Karai.”

George let out a happy chur from his place wrapped around Mikey’s neck, little head rubbing encouragingly against Mikey’s cheek.

“See? George thinks so too!”

“I don’t care what George thinks! George is a dumb animal who will do anything for a treat!” Leo snapped suddenly, the mood in the cabin plunging as an oppressive weight settled over it. Something alien was churning behind his brother’s irises as he struck them with a glare, something that made every nerve in Mikey’s body jolt. George cringed back, tail tightening as he chittered fearfully and under Mikey's chin for safety.

“Hey!” Mikey bristled, one hand coming up to protectively cover his friend as he returned Leo’s glare with one of his own. “You know who else doesn’t get a vote, the annoying raincloud who has contributed literally NOTHING to finding a solution to our problems! At least, I am trying! At least I am doing something other than whining “that’s not how it works!” repeatedly! And George didn’t do anything to you, so quit being a jerk!”

The tension grew as they stared each other down, metaphorical hackles rising as the siblings sized one another up. Mikey kept his face frozen in a stern scowl, pushing down the sympathetic twinge in his chest at how bloodshot his older brothers’ eyes were, how hollow they’d grown, lined with dark bags that were beginning to look like bruises. He wasn’t stupid, or blind. He knew how active his elder brother’s demons had been since leaving home, how the weight of their situation pressed down on Leonardo.

He’d wished a thousand times he knew how to help, but he didn’t. Usually, he could guess what the issue was, or prod the answers out of Leo after giving him some space and time. But those tactics weren’t working now. Up until recently, he'd known little to nothing about the missing half of his family. He still didn't know much about them, and Leo had remained frustratingly tight lipped, even though the past was clearly eating him alive.

The seeds of doubt were quick to bloom as the dark energy pressed in, a weed that threatened to choke off his inner fire as thoughts he’d pushed away for hours returned with a vengeance.

What if they didn't find anything? What if Master Karai wasn't here? What if he really was wasting their time and resources? What if he was wrong? what if....

What if he was just making things worse?

A soft coo broke the tension as George butted his head into Mikey’s throat, tiny body thrumming soothingly against his suddenly unsteady pulse. The gossamer soft sensation of unwavering trust and love poked at the edges of the bonfire inside of him, coaxing it to burn brighter in defiance against the darkness. It gave him the strength to push the doubts away again, to take another deep breath and focus only on the now.

Leo wanted a fight, but Mikey was not obliged to give him one. Maybe he couldn’t take away whatever was hurting his brother, but he could help keep things level until Leo was ready to share it. He pulled in two more breaths for good measure before speaking, careful to keep his tone calm but firm.

“I get that this has been stressful. I get that you are tired, and you don’t really want to be here. But that doesn’t give you carte blanche to be an ass. Especially to someone who can’t fight back. You’re better than that Leon.”

He kept face blank as that thing behind Leo’s eyes slowly faded away, the pressure lifting to be replaced by the lighter and more familiar signs of guilt. He kept himself still as Leo cringed and turned away to look out the viewscreen.

“…Yeah…I’m…”

A strident chime from the radar cut him off. The strain of their argument was swiftly shelved as they both leaned forward, foreheads nearly colliding in their haste to huddled in and study the steadily pulsing blip on the screen.

“There’s something over there! It’s in between those two big meteors!” Mikey exclaimed, pointing vigorously towards a cluster of oblong rocks off to the left of their view screen. “It has to be her, there’s a life support system attached to it!”

“Barely,” Leo huffed, squinting doubtfully at the readouts scrolling across the adjacent screen. “For an energy reading that low, life-support would have to be set to the bare minimum. Not great atmosphere for long time occupation.”

“But it could totally…” Mikey blinked, then groaned as Leo flashed him a tentative smile. “Omigosh, Lee that one was awful.”

“I think you mean awesome Miguel,” Leo shrugged, propping his chin on one fist as Mikey tried and failed to hide a snort. “I know, I know, my humor is a breath of fresh air. You’re welcome.”

“You are…so dumb…” Mikey spluttered in reply, any residual hard feelings clinging on from their spat offset by his own smile. Shell, Leo made it hard to stay mad at him.

“Thank you, thank you,” Leo said, sketching a half bow before blowing kisses to an imaginary audience. “I am here all week. And the week after that, and the week after-ack!”

“Nobody cares!” Mikey cheered as he pushed one hand into Leo’s face, laughing as his big brothers’ arms flailed in a comedic bid to maintain his balance. “Not when they can watch me, the daredevil Michelangelo, seamlessly thread the gauntlet of insane asteroids to investigate that signal!”

“Oooooh okay. Feeling bold today, are we? That looks kinda tricky,” Leo noted, casually leaning over to brace one forearm on the pilot’s chair.

“Absolutely! I’ve got this!”

“Alright big man,” Leo nodded slowly, gently tapping his knuckles against Mikey’s shoulder in a gesture that was both equal support and silent apology before sitting back. “Give it a shot. I am here if you need me.”

“I won’t,” Mikey replied, bouncing a little in his seat as he turned the shuttle towards their target. “Hold on to your shell!”

The engines roared under his touch, rocketing them towards the targeted cluster at heart pounding speed.

“COWABUNGA!”

“WHOAHOHO!” Leo yelled, gripping his seat with white knuckle strength as Mikey banked hard to avoid a chunk of debris.

Adrenaline fizzed in his veins, delight bubbling in his lungs as his heart started to dance in time to the thrum of the thrusters. This. This was the part of flying that Mikey actually liked. No fiddly procedures to remember, no gravity to pull or push him in ways he didn’t want to go. Space was like the ultimate acrobatics’ playground, open and empty and waiting to be filled with his amazing razzmatazz. Weaving and banking around corners, dipping down and rising up to avoid obstacles, even a spin or two thrown in for sheer flare, it all felt natural. It was fun!

Watching Leo slowly turn the same color as his arms stripes wasn’t bad either.

The radar pinged louder, and he eased the shuttle back into a steady cruising pace as Leo sat forward, sharp eyes scanning the surrounding asteroids in search of their target. Small stones tinged gently off the view screen as they drifted past, the only sound within the cockpit the increasingly strident bee-blip of the radar.

“There!”

Mikey’s head whipped around, eyes following Leo’s outstretched arm to their prize. Tucked into the shadows of a deep, craggy canyon was the faint outline of a structure surrounded by six smaller lumps.

“There’s a possible landing area on that ledge above the target, but there’s not a whole lot of room for error. Probably why the smugglers-”

“-or Master Karai-"

“-smugglers, chose this spot for their hideout. We’ll have to be careful with how we approach landing. Move over.”

“Nope, I’ve got it,” Mikey, pointing the shuttle nose towards their goal before pressing the controls down.

“Wait!”

He ignored his brothers’ objections as the shuttle responded to his command, nose dipping down sharply to aim towards the ledge. He did not need to be told what to do. He did not need to have his hand held. He could land the ship. Sweat gathered on his palms as the empty vacuum of space swiftly disappeared behind the craggy lips of the canyon walls.

“That’s a really steep approach, maybe pull it back a bit buddy….”

The engines whined as the ship sped onwards, outboard lights throwing jagged spires previously hidden by the gloom in into sharp relief. Sharp pricks of pain burst like fireworks as he dug his teeth into his lower lip, spine curving as he blocked Leo out and threw every shred of concentration into running the maze in front of him. He could do this. He could get them to the target. He could land the ship…

“Mikey, seriously…”

He could find Master Karai. He could become a Jedi. He could get his brothers back. He could …

“Michelangelo that’s way too steep! Pull up!”

The camp was in sight, the ground was growing, but somehow the ledge was shrinking. More rocks bounced off the viewscreen as the walls of the canyon closed in on all sides. Something cold and hard lodged in his throat as his hands slipped, skittering over the buttons as alarms started to shriek. His spine locked, limbs freezing as fear obliterated his thoughts with spikes of jagged grey.

He…He couldn’t…

“PULL UP!”

Blue burst through the grey as something slammed into his shoulder, forcing him halfway out of the pilot seat as iron hands clamped down on the controls. He gasped in shock, then scrambled to grab whatever he could as Leo hauled back hard on the yoke. The world spun as the shuttle jerked, banking into a tight vertical spiral as something hard screeched across the belly of the ship. Metal groaned and shuddered under the sudden strain as his big brothers’ hands danced lightning fast across the consul, shooting them back up into the void above.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Leo whooped, slumping back in relief once they were hovering a safe distance away from any debitage. “Now that was a rush!”

Michelangelo stayed on the floor, chest heaving and body shaking as he stared at the ceiling. Everything felt surreal, like he was only connected to his body by a heart that felt like it was trying to jump into hyperdrive. His lungs felt shriveled, unable to take a full breath. When had it gotten so cold? Was the air truly that thin? Had he compromised the hull in his stupid stunt? Were they in danger of collapse?

“You going to stay down there all…Angelo?”

His eyes stung as they filled with salt, and no amount of blinking managed to clear them. He had messed up. He’d dragged them out here and nearly gotten them killed and…

"Hey, c’mon bro, don’t make that face," Leo cajoled, gentle hands lifting Mikey up to stand on somewhat wobbly legs. Bright green fingers softly grabbed the lip of Mikey's plastron before giving him a gently encouraging shake. "So, you almost spectacularly whiffed a landing that could have majorly damaged the shuttle or injured us, leaving us stranded in a force forsaken asteroid field in the middle of nowhere..."

"Oh wow, thanks Lee. I feel so much better, " Mikey mumbled thickly, shooting a halfhearted glare that turned into a fully affronted scowl when Leo responded by flicking him between the eyes.

"As I was about to say, so what if it almost happened? It didn't, and it won't, because I'm here."

Leo was smiling at him when Mikey chanced another glance up, a smile that oozed confidence and compassion as he slung a sheltering arm around Mikey's shoulders.

“We’re okay Angelo."

"I really thought I had it this time. I thought I could…I just wanted to help…Why is it so hard?!" Mikey groaned, leaning into the comfort as Leonardo pulled him into his chest. Leo's heartbeat was strong and steady under his tympanum, its slightly elevated rhythm methodically walking Mikey's own heart back from its attempts to escape his rib cage.

"Can't be good at everything big man," Leo consoled, planting a gentle kiss on his baby brother’s forehead. "And you help in so many ways! Believe me, I could not do this without you Mikey. You’ll figure out flying eventually, I have no doubt. In the meantime, maybe listen to your talented, brilliant, and handsome big brother, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah," Mikey sighed, leaning back. "Thanks for letting me try Leon."

"Any time. Now, I’ve gotta to run some checks and land us, but why don't you go get the oxygen masks out and prep them to go for a spin."

"Will we need them? Life support still reads as active," Mikey asked as he absently shook the remaining adrenaline from his limbs.

"Trust but verify Michelito. This face is far too pretty to trust to some jury-rigged smuggler set up," Leo replied, breezily tossing his mask tails over his shoulder with a wink.

"Please, it would be an improvement!"

"Rude! Jealousy is not a great color on you Mikey!"

"We'll let Master Karai be the judge of that once we find her!" Mikey shot back, smiling slightly as he made his way to the back of the ship.

He had to stretch to his tiptoes to open the cabinet and retrieve the masks Splinter had jury-rigged for them ages ago. “For emergencies” their father had said, voice as worn as his robes when he'd held their little squirmy bodies still to adjust and ensure the blue and orange straps fit. Though the thick coating of dust on both masks attested to how little use they’d received, colored elastics faded and muted with age, the sight of these little tokens of their fathers’ love was like being wrapped up in one of his warm hugs.

“She’ll side with me.”

“Keep dreaming kiddo.”

Their banter was as familiar and comfortable, jokes and sly digs baniahing the shadows of tension and doubt with bright laughter as Leo carefully brought them back into the confines of the canyon for a smooth landing on the ledge.

“Alright, here is the plan,” Leo called, swinging out of the pilots chair and moving back to the back with an easy swagger in his step. “We are going to pop out, give the place a quick once over in full stealth style. We don’t find anything, or if we find anyone who isn’t Master Karai we book it back here, get the shell out, and try somewhere else. Capiche?”

“Capiche,” Mikey agreed, bending his head to allow Leo to check that his mask was secure before handing his brother his own and returning the favor.

“Alright, then lets jet!” Leo proclaimed, hitting the button to open the back hatch.

The air within the life support bubble was cold enough to send gooseflesh erupting over Mikey's arms and shivers down his shell. The buildings were equally cold and dark, filled with the stale sensation of a place long abandoned. Cabinets doors hung open on broken hinges, while much of the rickety furniture had either been smashed or collapsed on itself.

“Dang,” Leo whistled, flicking on a flashlight to banish the shadows clinging to the interior, “whoever was here last must have left in a hurry. And they definitely haven’t been back to clean up.”

“Maybe she’s been using one of the other buildings? You know, to stay inconspicuous?” Mikey offered, heart sinking as he accidentally kicked a piece of broken chair.

“We can check,” Leo indulged.

None of the outbuildings turned up better results beyond broken crates, and Mikey could do nothing but drag his heavy, bruised heart back to the ship.

“Come on,” Leo ordered, voice oddly gentle as he sealed the back hatch and helped Mikey out of his mask, “let’s get out of here. There are other places we can check.”

"I just...I don't understand," Mikey mumbled, staring hard at the ground as Leo moved to the front to bring their shuttle back online. "Why would the force send us on a wild goose chase? What was the point?!"

"It's like I said man," Leo shrugged as the engines whined to life, "it's just not how the force works."

"Except in this case," a soft voice said from behind them.

The two of them shrieked and jumped, limbs flailing as they spun around to face the invader. A figure stood at the back of the shuttle; body covered by a drab gray cloak with a deep hood that hid their face from view. An extra breathing mask sat innocently on one of the benches, along with two pistol sized blasters.

"Who the shell are you?!" Leo barked, fingers fluttering anxiously as they groped along the consul for something to use as a weapon. "A smuggler?!"

"Of sorts, I suppose," the figure replied calmly.

"We don't want any trouble, but believe me, we can bring the pain if you cross us!" Mikey blustered, waving his fists.

"Says the boy who once cried at the idea that someone might not want to be his friend."

"I...huh?"

"I wasn't sure, when I first started having the visions," the figure continued, moving further into the cabin. "It seemed impossible after all this time. And the results were clouded, without direction. To many possibilities. But two motifs were repeated over and over. Sun and lightning. Blue and orange. And then, just a few hours ago, the visions became clear. This place, the Yakai system. I had to take the chance. I had to…"

"What are you talking about?! Who are you?!" Leo spluttered.

Mikey blinked, arms slowly dropping. "Wait... are you..."

"I was afraid I wouldn’t make it in time… and you've both grown so much, I hardly recognized you at first. But I could never forget my boys."

The figure reached up, pushing back their hood. Stands of black and grey hair framed dark eyes and a pale face marked by fine lines of stress and age. A slim but fit figure lay beneath the cloak’s heavy edges, dressed in a worn green tunic, pants, and weathered leather boots. Empty holsters sat on either hip.

"Do you still like to paint Michelangelo?"

"OMIGOSH! YOU… YOU'RE MASTER KARAI!" Mikey shrieked, reserve giving way as he began jumping up and down. He threw himself forward, crossing the distance to wrap her in the tightest hug he could muster. "I KNEW IT! I KNEW YOU'D BE HERE!"

Karai laughed softly as he lifted her off her feet. Her small hands patted the sides of his shell, doing their best to hold him back even with her arms pinned to her sides.

"I KNEW THE FORCE WOULD HELP US!" he shouted again, plopping Karai down before whirling around in triumph.

"WE DID IT LEO!... Leo?"

Leo did not look at him or show any indication that he'd heard Mikey at all. His gaze was riveted on Karai, blatant shock mixing with so many other emotions in an expression that was almost painful to behold.

"Lee?"

Leo's throat worked furiously, mouth opening and closing fruitlessly as words seemed to fail him. Finally, one word managed to work its way free. Small and faint, a short word nearly crushed by the weight of all it carried.

"M...Master?"

"Leonardo," Karai murmured, squeezing Mikey's shoulder before stepping forward to stand before his brother. Her hands rose to cup his cheeks, thumbs softly tracing the lower arc of his red crescent markings as she quietly studied his face.

"You've grown so tall, my little blue. You've survived, and I am so, so proud of you."

Mikey blinked hard against the threat of tears as Leo sniffed and melted into Karai's arms. Despite being the same height as the woman, his older brother seemed to shrink until his head fit neatly beneath her chin, face hidden in her shoulder as his hands came up to desperately clutch at the back of her cloak.

"I have so many questions," Karai murmured thickly, gently rocking on her feet as she cradled Leo close with one arm while reaching out to Mikey with the other. "But first, let me hold my brave boys."

[vquacki]

Distraction.

Distraction with a hint of jealousy 

Characters: Kazutora Hanemiya, Chifuyu Matsuno, Manjiro Sano (Mikey, blackhair) 

Warning ⚠︎︎ : Mature content, cussing, possessive behavior,  MINORS DNI

Note : As promised, here I am, writing for different characters. Dejected recently but it’s all good. 

I feel like Kazutora would be the complete opposite of his younger self, Prob hella ooc because I haven't ever written for them before. So feedback is appreciated! Haven't written for 5 days, so I apologize if it's not up to par. :// sorry, ily all <3 I hope you all enjoy! (⊃｡•́‿•̀｡)⊃

K A Z U T O R A 

“Aww Kazutora, stop being like that~” You grinned, your hands resting on the rough shelves, leaning your body against the pet food aisles. 

“Y/N, I’m trying to work” Kazutora sighed, his work shift had barely started and you were already messing with him. 

“Chifuyu won’t mind if you have a break! I just want some attention.” You whined, bottom lip tugging into a pout as you watched the man pile up treat bags. 

Kazutora ignored you, continuing his duties. It was a blessing Chifuyu had given him a job when he was released from prison, there wasn’t a doubt in his mind he would be on the streets if it wasn’t for Chifuyu’s generosity. 

He didn’t want to ridicule his boss's kind gestures in any way, but with all this childish bickering it was very difficult for the male. He didn’t know if he could last any longer with your persistent begging, it was then he realized he spoiled you too much, he absolutely adored you too much.

“Kazu~ please” your eyes glimmered, lips puckering. Trying your best to form a cute puppy like face. 

“Fine. Just let me finish up this cart okay?” Kazutora huffed, rolling his eyes once he saw your frowned face giddy up. 

“You can’t resist me now can you Kazu?” You smirked in triumph, it always worked. You throw a fit, he folds almost immediately. 

“Oh whatever,” Kazutora chuckled. Using his free hand to wave you off, gesturing you off to the staff room to wait for him. 

It had been at least thirty minutes, you had grown far too impatient to wait any longer for the male. Your once cheerful face rounding into a furrowed expression. Repeatedly tapping your shoes against the tiled floor, until you heard the staff door click. 

“How long does it take to place bags on a shelf?” You crossed your arms, leaning back against the office chair. 

“I’m sorry, a customer came in” He apologized, a resourceful smile upon his lips. 

“Really? Did she adopt anyone?” You raised a brow, you didn't show it often but you were quite infatuated with the animals in the small shop. You loved every single one of them. 

“No, she just came in with her friends and asked me a few questions.” He replied,

“Im sorry, my pretty girl” it was his turn to pout, crouching a bit to your level. Interlocking your fingers, a regretful glean in his irises. 

You knew she didn't come in for a simple question & answers. It was the usual, girls coming in gawking at the worker. Everytime the male was so unaware, so oblivious it was rather amusing. You were thankful for the males unmindful thoughts, not surprising since he did spend a hefty amount of time in prison. 

Kazutora being very new to the world with its many wonders. 

Your upset features clear as day to your boyfriend, sure he wasn't keen on emotions, but he had known you long enough to know when you're down. He had learned to adapt over his many years of therapy, in prison and outside.

“Are you mad-” He was interrupted when your hand grabbed the tie attached to his work uniform. Pulling him all the way down towards your sitting figure. Gripping the tie with a mailed fist, not even letting go when your lips met his. 

His eyes were peeled, the shock radiating from the male was evident, even with your closed eyes. You didn't stop, you couldn't. 

Kazutora was yours, yours alone. You weren't ever gonna settle for him ever being taken away. 

His body quickly eased against yours, lips syncing with yours. He didn’t wanna question it any further, leaving the conversation for a later time. He was enjoying this too much, nonetheless not knowing what caused this situation in the first place. 

He was breathless, pulling away to see a string of saliva connecting your two lips. Prompting your steamy make out session in the back of the pet shop. 

His stomach twisted, heat rapidly rushing to his cheeks. It wasn't very often you would do something so overdone. It made his heart quicken in his chest, like a rollercoaster with so many loops. It made him want to scream till his vocal cords busted.

“You are mine Kazutora Hanemiya. Don't forget that” Your finger clenching around the red material of his tie. You felt a rush of relief seeing his flustered state, it made you want to do it over and over again until he would have to beg you with tears brimming his eyes to stop. 

He shyly nodded, eyes roaming the room avoiding your piercing eyes staring daggers at him. He wanted more, the adrenaline rush felt like ecstasy. He secretly craved for it, a string of hope lingering as he waited for a sign. Anything. 

“Kazutora~, You better look at me when I speak to you” You rebelled in a toothy grin. Playfully yanking on the cloth wrapped around his neck, resulting his head to jerk towards you. Golden orbs meeting your from the sudden heave, the cruel red that tinted his face along with the tips of his ears not fading one bit. 

“Y-Y/N, st-stop playing around” He uttered, tripping over his own words. His mouthed words betraying the heavy thoughts that fogged his mind. Ignoring the repeated familiar voice whimpering ‘I want more’ in his consciousness. 

“I'm not.” Your front blankly, you were being dead serious. 

“Pleas-” shutting down his impeccable begging, nudging the side of his leg with your foot. Letting the male plop to his knees in front of you. If it was anyone else, this view would have been utterly pathetic. 

Grabbing him by the throat you smashed your lips on his own, meeting his flushed ones again. His arms remaining weak at his sides, he couldn't find the strength to roam your frame. 

Whether the reason leading towards this was you being frustrated he was late or the itching feeling it was those random girls, his jumbled mind choose the latter option.

Though he would have never guessed you were that territorial, he'd be lying if he said he didn't like- love it though. 

C H I F U Y U 

“What the- how does he keep killing me?” Chifuyu grunted, aggressively chewing the empty popsicle stick that was nuzzled between his lips. The violent sound of his controller clicking in his hands, holding back the urge to fling the pricy remote at the wall every time he died.  

“Fuyu~ when are you getting off?” You groaned, staring up at the concentrated ravennette. Your head was situated on his thigh, watching his facial expression change every few seconds upon his failure to the game box. 

You were in need of some affection, your boyfriend had been playing for hours. Only giving you mere mili seconds of his attention now and then. 

It started to aggravate you, he invited you over to just watch him play?

“Hold on baby, just let me beat this guy” Chifuyu gently patted your head before glueing his eyes back to the flat screen, disregarding your drawn out sigh. 

“I'm just gonna go home, Chifuyu. I'm tired.” You lied, sitting up from your lying position. Heart desiring to see his reaction, whether it be concerning or not would pursue your actions. 

“Huh, what! Why? baby” He shot back, clicking a button to pause the device.

“Cause your on the game! I'm bored Fuyu” You frowned, eyes searching the room for all your belongings, furthering your act. Anticipating the males efforts to halt you. 

“Okay, I'll get off. '' Chifuyu shushed you, heart dropping to the pit of his stomach at the thought of you leaving him all alone. Standing up to switch off the T.V, placing the controller on the table holding the television up. 

 Your company was assuring, he didn't want to lose you. 

“C'mere Y/N” He mirrored your sad pout, gently flopping on you. Your back meeting the mattress with the male sprawled on top of you, sandwiching you.

His head cozied up into your neck, hands wrapping around your waist. His hot breath fanning your jaw, the slight tickling feeling making you tense up under him. A faint smile present on your lips from his compassionate response to your staged act. 

“By the way” Chifuyu tilted his head, looking at you.

“Were you jealous of my game?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows awaiting your response. Perky deminor poking your frisk mood. 

“I- Well obviously! You love that game more than me huh?” You condemned, accusing the male. Your brows rows knitting together. 

“W-What no! You're my number one!” Chifuyu swiftly corrected you, sitting up. Astonished you could deem him that unworldly claim. 

“You don't act like it” You sulked, turning your head the other way with a hmph.

“No Y/N, I’m sorry” the guilt racking up, thinking about all the times he neglected you when you were over at his house whilst he played his game. Imagining your borden build watching him have fun with his head set on both ears as he played. 

“Show me with actions Matsuno” Your voice stern, eyes refusing to meet his. 

It made his heart ache, a vomiting feeling emitting from his core. He felt horrible. One of his arms sliding underneath your neck, the other underneath your knees. Hauling you to his chest, cradling your stilled body. resembling a parent lolling their crying child to bed. 

“Forgive me baby” He spewed, the surface of his lips greeting every part of your face. Placing soft kisses, not missing one spot along your skin. 

“I love you, forgive me” he continued, the hand under your knees trailing up your frame, caressing the chub on your cheek. You melted at his touch, giving in. You spent the night, the male giving you his full undivided attention. Attending to your every beck and call, kisses with skin craving cuddles were in session for the rest of the night. 

You both were fully occupied. No more distractions. 

M I K E Y 

He had been absent all week, only appearing when it was convenient for him. Popping in and out, sometimes even coming home with blood smeared all over his clothes. The red looked as if it was lazily rubbed off, he didn't bother cleaning properly. 

He was exhausted. 

You missed his touch, with the feeling of your hands running through his long black locks. 

Your head jolted to the door when you heard the doorknob twist, your mind was cluttered with unruly remarks. You didn't want to pounce on him with questions, you could tell he was about to pass out. He was in no state to be interrogated. The dark bags under his eyes prompted even under the dim living room light. 

However there was something different, his hair was shorter, a bob cut. 

“Hi Mikey, new haircut?” You greeted the male, feet quietly prancing over to him. 

Your presence comforted him, he finally felt relaxed. Just from being with you, it made him feel warm. 

“Y/N, why aren't you asleep?” His voice was low, carefully shutting the door behind him, fastening the lock. 

“Were you waiting for me” He glanced at you from the side of his eye, bending down to slip off his shoes. Your hands fiddled with the hem of your pajama sleeve. You missed him, yearning for the males touch. Just a single touch could stop your greed. 

Just one. 

“yeah, a little” you mumbled, observing the males every move. Taking all of him in before he had the chance to leave once more. Silence roaming the room, the both of you staying quiet. 

It wasn't a comfortable silence either, you hated it. It was so foreign, especially with the male. 

“I have to admit, i'm a little jealous” You broke the hushed room from its cricketing, heels of your feet whirling around, making your way towards the couch.

“Of what.?” Mikey replied, walking closely behind you, settling into the cushion next to you. 

“Whoever you're going out with everyday,” you gave him a two faced smile, it hurt so much. 

“It's okay though! As long as you're safe..” You reassured, your hands were trembling. You wanted to spill everything, tell him how much you miss him, his voice whispering loving phrases into your ear as he rocked you to sleep. 

“I'm so sorry Y/N” Mikey wasn't dense nor oblivious, he knew the problem. 

“Had to take care of a few things.” He dejected, he recoperated your feelings. You're his everything, the only thing he had left. 

The one thing that didnt leave him from his stupidity on creating some dumb new world. 

“But don’t be Y/N, everyone is inferior to you.” He comforted you, arms slinging over your shoulder. Engulfing you in his warmth. Fuzzy bubbling building up in your belly.  

“So don't worry my love, I'll always be here with you. Even if you want to leave me, I'll always be here” There it was, the tender whispering you grieved for. 

“I'll never leave you Mikey, I swear” You whimpered into his shoulder, hands wrapping around his neck. Drawing him as close as he could go against your body, those lonely night tears finally catching up to you at this wholehearted moment. 

But who knows, promises, vows? Aren't they all made to be broken anyways?

[goldietm]

            *      ╰      new   york’s   very   own   𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐚   ‘   𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐞   ‘   𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐢𝐱   was   spotted   on   broadway   street   in   louboutin   carnababy   ankle   boots   .   your   resemblance   to   𝒛𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒂   is   unreal   .   according   to   tmz   ,   you   just   had   your   twenty   -   third   birthday   bash   .   while   living   in   nyc   ,   you’ve   been   labeled   as   being      𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒆   ,   but   also      𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒇𝒖𝒍   .   i   guess   being   a      virgo      explains   that   .   3   things   that   would   paint   a   better   picture   of   you   would   be      𝒂      𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓      𝒐𝒇      𝒍𝒊𝒎𝒊𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔      𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒓      𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏      𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆      𝒊𝒕𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇      ,         𝒂      𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒂𝒄      𝒑𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓   -   𝒔𝒖𝒊𝒕      𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈      𝒃𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔      𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒍𝒔      𝒂𝒕      𝒕𝒉𝒆      𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒃   ,      𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌      𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔      𝒔𝒘𝒊𝒎𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈      𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉      𝒕𝒉𝒆      𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆      𝒐𝒇      𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏      𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔      .   (   my   ex   -   fiance   was   a   pr   stunt   set   up   by   our   manager.   i’m   not   sure   they   knew   that   until   i   inadvertently   cheated   on   them   .   )      &      (   cis   female   &   she   /   her      )     

tw   :   homophobia   ,   biphobia   ,   suicide   mention   ,   emotional   abuse   .


𝒊       .        𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒔       .

𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆 :     georgia   cheyanne   hendrix 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒆𝒔  :   goldie   ,   golds   .   georgie   ,   gigi   ,   g   . 𝒂𝒈𝒆   :        twenty  -    three    𝒛𝒐𝒅𝒊𝒂𝒄   :   virgo    𝒐𝒄𝒄𝒖𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏   :  former   beauty   pageant   competitor   and   2016’s   miss   teen   usa   ,   2017′s   miss   new   york   ,   2018′s   miss   usa   ,   current   film   and   television   actress   ,    model   ,   business  entrepreneur   ,   philanthropist   ,  and   activist   .       𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒈𝒏𝒊𝒛𝒆𝒅   𝒇𝒐𝒓   :   her   mother’s   political   career   ,   starring   in   hbo’s   television   series   euphoria   ,   being   the   first   openly   queer         representative   for   the   usa   in   the   pageant   circuit   ,   her   advocacy   for   feminism   and   criminal   justice   reform   ,   a   bustling   social   media   page   ,   being   one   of   forbes   2019′s   top   30   under   30         . 𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓    𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒚    /    𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒔    :   cis   female   /   she   her   hers    𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏  :  bisexual   ,   biromantic    𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕   :   5’9    𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓   𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔   :   meredith   grey  &  cristina  yang   from   grey’s   anatomy   ,   spencer   hastings   from   pretty   little   liars   ,   hermione   granger   from   harry   potter   ,   meghan   markle   ,   angela   martin   from   the   office   ,   alex   cabot   from   law   and   order   svu   ,   and   more   than   anything   ,   claire   from   fleabag   .   𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧   𝐢𝐟   𝐮   𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐦   𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠   𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞   ,   𝐢   𝐛𝐞𝐠   𝐨𝐟   𝐮   𝐭𝐨   𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡   𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬   𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨   𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭   𝐭𝐨   ��𝐞𝐭   𝐥𝐞𝐱’𝐬   𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞   𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝   𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨   7   𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐬   . 𝒌𝒆𝒚   𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒕𝒔      :     -     acquiescent    ,   cold   ,   emotionally distant    ,         obsessive   ,  control   -   freak +   intelligent  ,   astute   ,   focused    ,  protective   ,  passionate         𝒉𝒐𝒈𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔   𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆   :   toss   up  between   slytherin   and   ravenclaw  !  𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈         𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔         :     𝐭𝐢𝐚   𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚      -   𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎   𝑐𝑎𝑡   𝑓𝑡   .   𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑜   𝑛𝑎𝑠𝑡𝑦  /   𝐢𝐜𝐞   𝐦𝐞   𝐨𝐮𝐭   -   𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ   𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙   /   𝐧𝐨   𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥   𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤   -   𝑘𝑎𝑟𝑖   𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑥  /  𝐂𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐃𝐄   -   𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑒𝑙   𝑐𝑎𝑒𝑠𝑎𝑟 /  𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧   𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐬   -   𝑆𝑍𝐴   /   𝐬𝐚𝐲   𝐬𝐨   -   𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎   𝑐𝑎𝑡  /  𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐟   𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐱   -   𝑓𝑙𝑜   𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖  /  𝐜𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐲   𝐚𝐟   -   𝑚𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑛   𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑒   𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑜𝑛  /  𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐧-𝐥𝐢      -   𝑛𝑖𝑐𝑘𝑖   𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑎𝑗  /   𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧   𝐭𝐨𝐨   𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡   -      𝑘𝑎𝑠ℎ   𝑑𝑜𝑙𝑙  /    𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫   𝐣𝐨𝐞   -   𝑗𝑢𝑛𝑔𝑙𝑒𝑝𝑢𝑠𝑠𝑦  /     𝐈𝐂𝐘   𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋   -   𝑠𝑎𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡𝑖𝑒  /   𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲  𝐣𝐚𝐰𝐧   -  𝑘𝑜𝑡𝑎   𝑡ℎ𝑒   𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑   /   𝐛𝐨𝐬𝐬   𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡   -   𝑑𝑜𝑗𝑎   𝑐𝑎𝑡 𝒂𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔   :         an   intellect   that   remembers   everything      ;      wild   caramel   curls   with   just   enough   composure   to   seem   effortless      ;      a   fear   of   failure      more   crippling   than   life   itself      ;      the   smell   of   fresh   linen   and   lavender         ;      a   color   -   coded   itinerary         ;         a   perfectly   choreographed   interaction   ,   each   time      ;      lilac   power   -   suits   and   an   immaculate   composure      ;         unspoken   mommy   issues      ;      tenebrous   ,   intent   gazes   swimming  ��with   the   resonance   of   unspoken   thoughts      ;      ‘   don’t   touch   me   please   ‘   syndrome      ;      kicking   out   hookups   before   you   both   fall   asleep      ;      ordering   the   same   thing   at   a   restaurant   ,   every   time      ;      flinching   at   ‘   i   love   you’s   ’      ;      drafting   business   emails   at   the   club         ;      an   admiration   of   atlas   ,   with   the   world’s   weight   upon   your      shoulders   .

𝒊𝒊       .    𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚    .

though   goldie   should   be   proud   to   carry   the   hendrix   name   (   a   prominent   black   woman   in   politics   as   a   mother   and   a   fortune   500   ceo   father   )   ,   the   odds   have   been   against   the   hendrix   progeny   since   they   come   into   the   world   .   despite   her   mother   being   a   female   senator   ,   she’s   a   infamously   staunch   conservative   with   rather   regressive   opinions   .   her   father   ?   none   the   better   ,   driven   by   greed   and   the   illusion   of   power   .

georgia   emerges   first   into   the   world   with   kalani   following   soon   after   ,   a   dynamic   they   hold   onto   for   the   rest   of   their   lives   .   their   brother   michael   follows   a   few   years   later   ,   completing   the   illusion   of   the   perfect   american   family   .   goldie   ,   as   she   is   quickly   known   as   ,   is   a   perfectionist   by   heart   ,   a   trait   that   is   only   further   emphasized   by   a   cold   ,   disconnected   mother   who   only   truly   acknowledges   her   when   it’s   following   an   accolade   .   lani   never   seemed   bothered   and   would   find   solace   in   mikey   —   goldie   ,   on   the   other   hand   ,   took   her   mother’s   emotional   distance   more   personally   than   anything   in   her   life   ,   past   or   future   .   

her   mother   ,   a   former   pageant   star   herself   ,   is   elated   to   hear   goldie’s   interest   in   starting   in   the   circuit   in   middle   school   ,   launching   a   career   for   herself   in   the   new   york   pageant   scene   .   this   perfectionist   mentality   lends   itself   easily   to   her   competitions   ,   and   the   naturally   competitive   girl   takes   the   pageant   world   by   storm   .   she   pushes   herself   to   her   peak   through   new   york’s   elite   prep   schools   ,   scoring   top   marks   and   heading   countless   clubs   to   pad   an   otherwise   still   impressive   resume   .   she’s   making   waves   in   every   circle   she   enters   ,   preparing   a   valedictorian   speech   and   touting   early   acceptance   into   princeton   when   her   world   flips   on   its   head   .

mikey   ,   vibrant   and   beautiful   ,   everything   goldie   did   not   see   herself   as   ,   comes   out   as   gay   to   their   family   ,   and   following   the   heinous   response   of   their   parents   and   the   mounting   pressures   to   keep   up   appearances   ,   takes   his   own   life   during   the   twins’   senior   year   .   goldie’s   life   is   shattered   ,   and   her   family   falls   apart   quickly   after   ,   with   lani’s   outburst   of   her   own   coming   out   and   reprimanding   their   parents   for   their   part   in   mikey’s   passing   being   the   final   tear   of   the   hendrix   tapestry   .   goldie   ,   harboring   a   budding   sentiment   of   bisexuality   all   her   own   ,   sees   the   effect   the   dual   coming’s   -   out   have   on   their   family   and   can’t   bring   herself   to   rock   the   boat   a   third   time   ,   doing   what   she   does   best   and   keeping   her   mouth   shut   for   appearances   .   

while   lani   makes   a   name   for   herself   protesting   and   doing   her   activism   ,   goldie   continues   to   dominate   pageantry   ,   quickly   snatching   up   titles   of   miss   teen   usa   ,   miss   new   york   ,   and   going   on   to   set   her   sights   on   2018′s   miss   america   .   during   the   question   and   answer   portion   ,   when   she’s   asked   about   the   mental   health   crisis   in   her   home   state   of   new   york   ,   her   mind   drifts   from   her   prepared   statement   and   instead   pivots   to   a   cause   near   and   dear   to   her   heart   ,   the   lgbtq+   mental   health   crisis   .   her   life   changes   with   one   simple   slip   of   the   tongue   on   live   national   television   .   

                   “   as   a   bisexual   woman   myself   ,   i   believe  —   ”

though   entirely   unintentional   ,   the   moment   liberates   her   and   thrusts   her   forward   into   the   life   she   now   has   ,   a   name   made   for   herself   ,   by   herself   .   despite   the   collective   shock   of   her   unexpected   coming   out   on   national   tv   ,   she   is   enthusiastically   crowned   miss   america   much   to   her   own   surprise   ,   though   her   actions   are   not   without   consequence   .   fuming   at   the   perceived   treachery   of   the   child   that   was   supposed   to   be   ‘   the   good   one   ,   ’   senator   hendrix   pulls   some   strings   to   get   goldie   kicked   from   the   pageantry   world   ,   but   it   comes   as   a   blessing   in   disguise   .   

goldie   changes   her   major   at   princeton   to   public   policy   ,   and   once   she   leaves   the   pageant   world   ,   she’s   flooded   with   offers   for   modeling   campaigns   and   sponsorship   deals   .   she   becomes   one   of   the   most   noted   humanitarian   activists   of   her   generation   ,   fighting   for   women’s   rights   ,   mental   health   advocacy   ,   and   criminal   justice   reform   .   while   lani   takes   to   the   streets   ,   goldie   takes   to   the   stands   ,   giving   speeches   and   meeting   with   policy   makers   as   she   begins   to   dive   into   the   world   of   entrepreneurship   .   the   twins   start   a   foundation   for   lgbtq+   people   they   name   the   mikey   hendrix   foundation   in   honor   of   their   younger   brother   ,   and   are   in   constant   tabloid   stories   due   to   their   speaking   out   against   their   parents   .   goldie   makes   an   easy   transition   from   paper   to   stage   ,   and   finds   a   blooming   acting   career   that   serves   as   an   even   greater   platform   for   her   to   speak   out   about   the   causes   nearest   to   her   .  

𝒊𝒊𝒊       .       𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 

            perhaps   goldie’s   most   notable   quality   is   being   driven   by   an   unyielding   fear   of   failure   and   mediocrity   .   there   is   no   task   small   enough   that   goldie   will   not   accomplish   to   the   best   of   her   execution   ,   and   if   she   can’t   ensure   perfection   ,   she   will   refuse   to   give   it   an   attempt   at   all   .   this   all   or   nothing   attitude   stems   from   an   obscene   obsession   with   control   and   remaining   in   control   ,   something   those   around   her   are   all   too   aware   of   . 

               despite   a   rather   charming   and   gregarious   disposition   on   the   red   carpet   ,   many   will   note   that   goldie   is   incredibly   reserved   when   meeting   her   in   real   life   .   the   pageantry   training   has   kicked   in   to   give   her   a   facade   to   push   when   she’s   in   the   spotlight   ,   though   her   true   disposition   is   much   less   play   and   much   more   work   .   she’s   stoic   and   serious   ,   knowing   just   what   to   say   at   what   time   to   continue   the   narrative   that   she   is   completely   in   control   .   cool   and   calculated   ,   her   affect   is   usually   stern   and   unwilling   to   reflect   any   sentiment   of   softness   or   goofiness   —   many   business   associates   note   her   absolute   maturity   and   rationality   even   at   the   tender   age   of   23   .   her   energy   ,   as   subdued   as   it   may   be   ,   commands   the   room   with   a   power   of   self-assuredness   that   only   stems   from   a   confidence   rooted   in   something   to   back   it   up   .   she’s   an   elderly   woman   in   a   millennial’s   body   ,   and   this   tends   to   show   in   her   dry   wit   humor   ,   relative   moodiness   ,   and   general   propensity   for   wanting   things   done   exclusively   her   way   .

               goldie’s   intellect   has   always   been   a   strong   suit   of   hers   ,   a   photographic   memory   that   allowed   her   to   glide   through   school   with   the   least   of   struggles   .   astute   and   well   -   spoken   ,   monotone   and   unlikely   to   crack   in   her   stony   temperament   ,   she’s   a   force   of   nature   to   be   well   reckoned   with   .   luckily   ,   goldie   shows   little   to   no   interest   in   engaging   with   petty   drama   and   tends   to   keep   in   her   own   lane   ,   losing   interest   nearly   immediately   in   the   mindless   pettiness   some   of   her   friends   wrap   themselves   up   in   .   rational   ,   arguably   to   a   fault   ,   goldie   has   a   bad   habit   of   censoring   herself   and   limiting   her   own   commentary   when   in   the   company   of   anyone   she   needs   to   maintain   her   reputation   with      ;      close   friends   ,   on   the   other   hand   ,   will   easily   characterize   her   as   blunt   and   straightforward   ,   almost   too   aggressive   with   her   honesty   for   her   own   good   .   though   she’d   rarely   voice   it   ,   she   has   an   undeniable   superiority   complex   stemming   from   a   recognition   that   whatever   she   does   ,   she’s   incredibly   good   at   (   ignoring   her   unwillingness   to   step   out   and   try   anything   outside   her   comfort   zone   .   )

               this   is   the   curious   dichotomy   of   georgia   hendrix   ,   considering   one   of   her   most   notable   flaws   is   her   unwillingness   to   invest   .   despite   being   perhaps   overly   honest   ,   the   moment   a   conversation   (   or   relationship   )   runs   the   risk   of   becoming   too   emotionally   risky   ,   she   shuts   down   .   flames   have   been   ghosted   ,   relationships   have   been   ended   ,   and   friendships   have   been   cut   off   simply   because   goldie   deemed   them   to   be   a   danger   to   her   mission   of   remaining   in   complete   control   of   herself   and   her   life   .   the   select   few   that   have   plowed   through   goldie’s   rather   prickly   initial   interactions   have   earned   themselves   a   friend   forged   from   gold   ,   loyal   to   a   fault   and   ready   to   drop   anything   at   a   wind’s   blow   to   aide   those   she   loves   most   .   defensive   and   ornery   ,   the   pageant   girl   facade   soon   blows   over   to   reveal   an   anal   retentive   ,   emotionally   stunted   grandmother   who   loses   her   lid   over   the   most   minute   of   inconveniences   if   they   step   out   of   her   pre - established   plans   and   routines   .

               hiding   beneath   her   layers   of   fake   smiling   at   redundant   questions   ,   unapproachable   hostility   and   being   an   otherwise   unmeltable   ice   queen   ,   goldie   harbors   a   deep   intensity   that   overcomes   her   when   allowed   to   reign   (   and   very   rarely   is   allowed   to   reign   )   .   she   does   not   invest   in   small   doses   and   despite   the   relative   unlikelihood   of   her   allowing   a   distraction   such   as   a   relationship   ,   the   few   she’s   had   have   been   intense   whirlwinds   led   by   goldie’s   own   inability   to   limit   herself   —   she’s   all   ,   or   she’s   nothing   ,   but   nowhere   in   the   middle   .

[ashleyspinelliburnbook]

S1E13: Parents’ Night/Swing on Thru to the Other Side

DOUBLE SPINELLI

DOUBLE THE FUN

Also, this is the last (pair of) episode(s) in Season 1!

Parents’ Night

You bet Parents’ Night was something I looked forward to every year. We called it Open House, and it was in April, and I think I liked it because I was a parent-pleaser. Not just my own — I wanted to impress all the parents with how mature and/or grown up and/or smart I was.

Spinelli kind of has the opposite problem. She is not at all excited about Parents’ Night, and every year, she has a different excuse as to why her own parents can’t make it. Last year, Spinelli’s parents were in the Amazon. The year before, they were hang-gliding from Mount Everest.

This year, she tells the gang that her parents are having dinner at the White House, and everyone is stoked to hear it. Well, except Gretchen, beautiful buzzkill Gretchen, who points out that the President is in the Middle East this week. Undeterred, Spinelli explains that they’re just house-sitting, more or less. And that the Secret Service can’t do it because it’s their bowling night.

TJ, of course, isn’t having it, so he enlists the gang (minus Spinelli) to stake out her house that night. They see someone taking out the trash...and their cover is immediately blown, because that’s where Mikey is hiding, and it’s Spinelli who’s got the trash.

So next, TJ says they have to be direct — they fill up Mikey with water from the hose until he has to pee really bad, and they ask Spinelli to use her bathroom. She says no. She also says her parents are secret agents, which no one believes. Then...she says she’ll bring them to Parents’ Night.

A quick runthrough of what some of these parents are like:

The Ashleys’ parents dress in the same color scheme as their daughters and also say “Scandalous!”

Ever wonder why Gretchen’s so smart? Well, she’s a carbon copy of her parents.

TJ’s mom and dad are impressed that he made a whoopee cushion as a science project.

Gus’ dad is impressed that his desk is so clean and organized.

Mikey reads his parents some poetry, and his hippie dad gets so emotional that his mom (who looks like Mikey, but taller and a woman) comforts him.

Vince’s parents...are maybe the Black couple walking in near the beginning of the scene? We never meet them. Typical.

Spinelli shows up with her parents and they seem pretty much like her! They’re the tough-looking characters pictured above. Unfortunately, Spinelli met them in a parking lot and she doesn’t have the cash to keep them there all night. They go out into the hall, and from the classroom window, the gang sees them shaking down Spinelli for all her pennies.

So, the truth comes out: Spinelli’s parents...are embarrassing. That’s all. Except that’s not all, because when they finally show up — they found the Parents’ Night flyer in Spinelli’s dirty clothes — we learn that her mom (played by Katey Sagal!) calls her “pookie” and wipes her daughter’s face using the ol’ licking-her-finger method, and her dad calls her “princess.”

Her parents also aren’t 100% on names. To them, her very best friends are Mickey, Vance, Gretel, Russ, and BJ, and their teacher is Miss Grabkey. Neat. It’s when they share that Spinelli just stopped wetting the bed last year that she can’t take it anymore and heads to the roof.

Spinelli has a nice heart-to-heart with her parents, where they forgive her for her being so embarrassed! Because they love her, and she’ll understand someday, you know? She even shares that she was so embarrassed by them that she told her friends they were secret agents, which gets a good laugh.

They head down to enjoy the last of Parents’ Night together, but Spinelli’s dad tells them to go on without him, because...oops, he’s a secret agent, 006. And he declines a call to save the world because it’s Parents’ Night.

Takeaway: Less a takeaway, more an acknowledgement that Miss Grotke referred to parents as “be they mothers, be they fathers, be they whatever.” And while it’s 1998 and that’s probably not an acknowledgement of nonbinary parents (she’s probably referring to aunts, uncles, grandparents, and other non-parent guardians), that’s how I’m choosing to read it here in 2020.

Swing on Thru to the Other Side

The Church of Swinger Girl: Definitive Texts

Compiled by the prophet Ashley Spinelli

I have seen it! I have seen it with mine own eyes!

Swinger Girl, blessed be thy name, has ascended! Swinger Girl is no longer of this world! Whether she has transported to another dimension or another astral projection has taken my Swinger Girl to freedom, she has truly swung on thru to the other side!

What a pity it is that she did not take more of us with her.

---

I am a new woman.

My friends know the Old Spinelli, who would terrify all who crossed my path with my mighty fist. Today, the only fist that matters is that which is made when one grasps the chain of a swing, O Powerful Swing, that which snatched our Swinger Girl from this mortal coil!

New Spinelli is peaceful. New Spinelli wishes for peace. And, most of all, New Spinelli finally has purpose, has meaning. New Spinelli must join my Swinger Girl on the other side.

My friend Theodore insists I will be “back to normal” by tomorrow, as if “normal” is anything but a relative construct. This is my normal, Theodore. You will see!

---

O, the means of emulating my Swinger Girl, deeply do they connect me with something no longer of this world!

My people approached me at the sacred swing today, the swing where it happened, eager for a chance to share in some of its spiritual magic. What a majestic time, watching the playground become one, all because of the actions of my Swinger Girl!

Brother Mikey brought the supplies for the congregation. All are welcome to experience the glory of Swinger Girl, my Swinger Girl! The headgear and glasses only bring us closer to her!

---

What might my Swinger Girl have eaten for lunch?

How might she have eaten it?

We know not much about our Swinger Girl, naught but her preference for eating dessert as she wished it, not saving it for the end of a meal. What a powerful message!

I shall live my life as Swinger Girl lived hers!

---

Swing.

Swing.

Swing.

The hum across the playground indicates the time for my ascension is nigh. I will join my Swinger Girl in her universe, if she will have me. It is, as Swinger Girl would say, the journey that matters.

The journey over the top of the bar.

Freedom.

Takeaway: A classic. Spinelli starts a cult. Absolutely classic.

[angelbabylu]

The Art of Losing // AI

pairing: i created an oc for this bc its pretty heavy

prompt: Imagine you and Ashton are married and have a baby girl. You and your baby girl are driving back from a long day at the carnival and you get into a bad car accident.

warnings: this is supposed to be sad okay, warnings for death, drug use, & problematic domestic situations

word count: 5.5k

notes: this is for @myemptywallets who sent me the prompt. i hope this is does your prompt justice. shout out to my love @5sosnsfw ! thanks reading and editing this. love you 

title from the poem One Art by Elizabeth Bishop

-- 

- before -

There is no sound in the dressing room as Ashton sits typing away at the screen of his phone. He had taken a few photos of the boys during sound check, and now he’s posting them: Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, the works. With his focus buried deep in the world of social media, he is lost to the world around him.

A voice floats through the device on the desk in front of him, disrupting the silence with an exasperated, “Ash.”

He lets his eyes to flicker up to the neutral-faced woman on the screen for a half a second before shifting his attention down to Twitter once more.  

“One second, babe. I just need to send this tweet.”

With a heavy breath, she tries to convey her feelings of discontent. Were Ashton paying attention, he would have picked up on it in seconds. Then again, were Ashton paying attention, she wouldn’t be upset in the first place.

“Ashton, I think you guys are big enough now that you can hire someone else to run your twitter account.”

He doesn’t hear her. Or, if he does, he’s too engaged to respond.

It takes a full minute for his head to pop up and his eyes to meet piercing ones, their intensity dulled by the LCD display. She never quite looks the same behind a screen. Something about her felt diluted by the machine that separated them.

“What?” His thick brows furrow, creating a deep V in the space between them. She is opening her mouth to restate herself when his brain catches up.

“Baby,” he scoffs. They had talked about this. “You know how impersonal that is to me. Our fans deserve to hear straight from us.”

This time he keeps his eyes on her long enough to take in how disconcerted she is. Ashton knows that face better than his own. There were hours in years past that he dedicated to learning her every emotion. On that day that Ashton said those fateful words (“Maren Anderson, will you marry me?”), he promised to always do what he could to keep her happy. His current actions were contradicting that vow.

“Mare, you okay?”

The look she gives him says that she obviously isn’t. He feels a twinge in his gut at the realization that he had been neglecting her. Placing his phone back in his pocket (after covertly hitting send on the tweet), he gives his attention over to her.

“What’s up?”

“I miss you.”

It is three simple words, but the weight of them is enough to crush Ashton’s heart. This is why he had become so engrossed in the business side of the tour. Being the band’s personal PR agent is just one of the many tricks he uses to keep his mind occupied. The more menial tasks he finds to consume his days, the less time he spends thinking about to what he left behind at home.

She reaches her left hand up to sweep her hair out of her face, the diamond on her ring finger catching the light, sparkling on screen. Ashton still remembers the day he gave her that ring - more so than the day he had stumbled into Tiffany’s at Saks Fifth Avenue, drugged out of his mind but sure of one thing: how much he wanted her to be his wife.

“Why aren’t you on tour with me again?” He tries to keep his tone light, recognizing what the scrunch of her nose meant. If he allows the conversation to continue with professions of just how much pain the space between them is causing, she will inevitably start to cry. Selfishly, he doesn’t want to go on stage thinking about his wife crying thousands of miles away, with no way to comfort her.

“We’re blaming Eden,” she says, and that is just the segue he is hoping for. If there is one thing that could put a smile on both their faces, Eden is it.

“And where is my little devil?”

His wife is sitting on the couch in their living room, and if the smile she shoots over the screen of her phone is any indication, so is their five-year-old daughter.

“Daddy!”

The scream is accompanied by high pitched giggles as a flurry of dark curls materializes on screen, dislodging the camera from her mother’s hand. In the next second, Ashton is facing the light of his life. She is smiling, as always, her dimples the size of craters on her cheeks.  

“Hey! How’s my favorite girl?”

“Once again, your daughter comes on screen, and you forget I exist.”

His wife’s voice comes from somewhere to the left of the device, meaning she doesn’t see the roll of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out. “Who are you again?”

Neither Maren nor Eden take lightly to the joke.

“Daddy, don’t be mean!” the curly-haired kindergartener chastises.

“Okay, okay.” He raises his hands in defeat. “What are my two favorite girls going to be up to today?”  

Maren’s head pops up on screen then, resting her cheek gently on the top of their daughters head. She doesn’t take the phone from Eden, knowing how much she likes to be in control during these family FaceTimes (“She gets this control thing from you,” Maren never hesitates to tell her husband.)

“We’re going to the carnival!”

He catches his wife’s guilty eyes over his daughter’s head. Just last week she had sworn they wouldn’t go to the carnival, citing it as punishment for Eden’s recent unruly behavior.

“We’re only going for a few hours,” Maren tries to explain. “Because Eden was good and cleaned her room today without me having to ask.”

“And I spoil her?” His voice is incredulous, hinting at a conversation they’d had numerous times before.

Eden, too clever for her own good, comments, “You both spoil me.”

The sound Ashton releases is an embarrassingly loud guffaw. Eden is sharp, to the point where Ashton is continuously amazed by her mind. Of course, he remembers watching his younger siblings mature, but something about watching his daughter, someone he helped bring into the world, go from only being able to laugh and babble to now developing her own firecracker sense of wit, felt different. He is immensely proud. And grateful to be blessed with someone as amazing as her.

“Your eyes, your smile, and now your sass,” his wife says fighting a slight smile. “She is her father's child.”

And she is. The resemblance is uncanny. Not only in their looks, but in their personality as well. They are both talkative pranksters, demanding of attention, always in need of stimulation and excitement. Together, they wreak havoc in their house. They are partners in crime. His wife often complains that they needed another child ASAP. It is easy to feel out of place in the Ashton and Eden Show.  

“I’m daddy’s child when I’m bad, mommy’s child when I’m good, and uncle Lu’s niece when I whine too much.”

Eden recites the mantra Maren has been repeating since Eden could talk. There are more sayings for the other boys as well. She is Mikey’s niece when they couldn’t get her away from her video games and Calum’s niece when she is melodramatic.

(A few days before they had gone on tour, Ashton had walked into their house to find Eden home from Kindergarten, sprawled out on the tan carpet of their living room. His wife at their record player with a Depeche Mode album in hand.

“What’s going on here?” he had asked.

Maren shrugged. “She came in, threw herself on the carpet, and asked for this album.” She waved the Some Great Reward Vinyl in her hand before slipping it out of its sleeve and onto the player.

“Bug?” Ashton turned to his daughter then, looking for more information.

No such luck.

“People are people, daddy.” She said as if there was some great weight on her five-year-old shoulders only Depeche Mode could solve.

Ashton caught his wife’s eyes. Then, as if there was no other response to the scene in front of them, they both sighed, “She is Calum’s niece.”)

They speak for a while, Eden monopolizing most of her dad’s attention. She is in the middle of a nonsensical story that Ashton was having a hard time following.

“Four, five, six hippo princesses and a dinosaur car chase!” Ashton’s mind supplies, and even though he has no idea what that means, he nods along anyway.

A knock on the door interrupts them just as Eden begins to mention Ali’s tater’s and lasers, or perhaps alligator lasers, Ashton isn’t really sure. She pauses though, all three of their attention shifting to the door as Ashton called the person inside.

It’s three people. Luke, Calum, and Michael stumble through the door of their dressing room looking all fired up and ready for the show. As soon as they see who’s one screen, they do not spare Ashton a second glance.

They crowd around the back of Ashton’s chair and begin to all speak at once, offering varying greetings to Maren and Eden.

“Sorry little bug,” Calum begins once everyone has finished exchanging pleasantries. “We’ve come to steal your daddy away.”

Luckily, Eden does not put up as much of a fight as she usually does.

There are tears - there are always tears. The second Eden hears that her dad has to leave, she begins to cry. Her nose scrunches, similar to the way Maren’s had earlier, and her eyes well up with rivers.

“No please,” She begs her uncle. “I wanna talk to daddy.”

All five adult hearts at that moment shatter. The boys know how hard it is for Ashton to be away from his daughter. Truthfully, it is hard for them to be away from her too. At that moment, Ashton is the only one with a child, and in many ways, Eden has become theirs as well.

Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, they have done this enough that everyone knows how to calm the five-year-old down.

“Eden,” it is Luke’s turn this time. He crouches at Ashton’s side, bringing himself down to be face to face with the screen of the iPad. “You know your daddy & your uncles will call you after the show.”

“Yeah,” Maren chimes in, her hand gently running through the unruly mop of curls on her daughter's head. “And we have the carnival. If you talk to your daddy all afternoon, we won’t be able to go.”

Eden still doesn’t budge. “I wanna keep talking to daddy.”

“My little sunshine.” Ashton and his daughter are twins. He boasts about knowing how to talk her down. “Go to the carnival. Have as much fun as possible. Then later when you get home, you’ll have twice as many stories to tell me and all the time in the world to tell them!”

At the thought of making more memories to share later with her dad, the kindergartener reluctantly resigns. “Okay,” she pouts.

“Love you, little bug.”

They exchange a round of “I love you’s” before Ashton got up and got ready for the stage.

- after: ashton -

Calum receives the news first. He is the closest to the wings of the arena stage that night, so when their manager rushes on stage, only ten minutes of the set remaining, he is the first one she runs into.

Ashton doesn’t realize that he has stopped playing for a full minute. It is not until Michael and Luke stop playing as well, both their attention on Calum, that Ashton begins to register that something is off.

Later, he will tell them that he knows the bad news is for him from the get-go. How can he not, with the way Calum breathes, “Fuck,” and immediately turns to him.

The arena is almost silent now. What was once thousands of fans yelling the lyrics to She Looks So Perfect is now a mass quiet, curious faces. Ashton wonders if the crowd can feel it too, can feel the realization that his manager’s next few words will tear his life apart forever.

“We regret to inform you that due to a family emergency we will be cutting the show short. . .”

Ashton doesn't get to hear her finish the speech because the boys rush towards him, all but forcing him off stage. He knows his body is moving, vaguely aware of the gentle hand at the small of his back, guiding him through the backstage area. His mind - that is elsewhere. It buzzes with one question only: What the fuck was happening? It takes him a full minute to realize he is repeating it aloud.

He doesn’t get his answer until Calum shoves him into a chair in their dressing room - the very same chair he sat on earlier when talking to his daughter and his wife.

“Promise me you’ll take deep breaths after I tell you this,” Calum commands. That is never a good sign. That phrase is not one that is usually followed by good news.

Ashton looks up and meets Luke’s eyes. He is surprised to find that he and Michael are confused as well. Calum is the only one who knows what was going on.

“Cal, what the fuck is happening?” Ashton says in lieu of the promise.

Calum is silent for what feels like a full minute. Ashton could hear the sound of each second passing from the clock on the dressing room wall. Tick, tick, tick.

It counts down the seconds before Ashton hears, “Maren and Eden got into a car accident.”

Luke and Michael release gasps of shock, both staggering as if Calum’s words are enough to knock them off their feet.

For Ashton, the words don’t quite sink in. He is on his feet before Calum’s next breath. The phrase alone is too much for Ashton to process, but he is aware that it is Mare and it is Eden and it is bad news.

“Okay, I need to - “

He doesn’t get to finish before Calum is pushing him back into his chair. “You need to breathe. We have a flight. The four of us. We leave for LA in 2 hours. The car will be pulling up any second now. We’re gonna go to the hotel, grab what you need, and then we’re gonna go.” He speaks like he would were it Eden in a crisis, demanding and almost infuriatingly slow.

“Do you understand?”

When Ashton nods, Calum shakes his head. “I need you to use your words, Ashton. Do you understand?”

He’s not sure his voice will work. He surprises himself when he’s able to croak out, “I understand.”

--

“Did you want to try eating breakfast today?”

He doesn’t get a verbal answer. Instead, the mop of hair peeking out from underneath the comforter slowly shakes no.

“You need to eat something,” There is a pleading in his voice. Still, he gets no response from the body tucked tightly in the bed sheets.

Sighing slowly, he closes the door behind him.

Maren hasn’t said a word since they came home from the hospital without their daughter. He understands. Some days he’s surprised he’s able to get out of bed at all. His mother thinks that he’s in shock, that the finality of everything hasn’t hit him yet. Maybe he hasn’t realized he will never see his little girl again, never see her smile, never hear her say a sharp comment, nothing. He thinks she’s partially correct. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he recognizes that this truly terrible thing has happened to him, but if he doesn’t give himself the time to think, the time to mull on just how world crushing the situation is, he won’t snap. He won’t fall to pieces like his wife has. And right now, he has to keep it together for her.

When he gets downstairs, he finds Calum, Michael, and Crystal in the kitchen.

There are a million people staying at his house right now. Luke refuses to go home. He spends most of his days curled up in bed with Maren. From what Ashton can gather, neither of them say very much. They just sit together in silence. Sometimes when he walks by the TV will be on. Other times, they’re crying. But he hasn’t heard either of them utter a word. He’s happy (a funny word at that moment) that Luke can be there for Maren in a way that he can’t.

Mikey and Crystal will go home sometimes. Mostly because Maren doesn’t like seeing Crystal, the small 4-month baby bump a reminder that of the child they had lost.  

His mom and his siblings are milling around somewhere. They flew in just a few hours after he did.

God. Just 4 days ago he was still on tour. He shook the thought out of his head. There was no point in worrying about how his fans were reacting to its abrupt cancellation.

Calum catches sight of the motion and looks over him with scrutinizing eyes, “You okay?”

Calum had been his rock in the past four days. Ashton will never forget how he ushered him from one place to the next that first night, getting him ready for the plane flight and the subsequent visit to the hospital. And now, there was no way he could plan this funeral without Calum. They were the only ones strong enough to. Better yet, the only ones strong enough to pick themselves up after a good cry.

Neither of them told anyone about the day at the funeral home. Calum had barely been able to clarify, “We’re looking for child caskets,” before the both of them broke down in tears. That was the only time Ashton allowed his emotions to slip. Even then, he forced himself to regain composure, perhaps too quickly. Ashton is afraid that if he lets himself to really cry, he will never stop.

“Fine.” He responds to Calum’s earlier question.

Eventually, his sister joins them in the kitchen and all five of them make breakfast. It is a little crowded, but everyone just wants to be around each other, so no one complains.

The funeral and wake will be later that day. The wake is being held at his house so of course his mom has been up since the crack of dawn cleaning. Never mind the fact that they could easily hire an entire crew to do so. His mom recruits his siblings, Michael and Crystal to help with the cleaning. Calum and Ashton go over final funeral details. And Luke and Maren. . . they cry and try to gather their strength for the funeral.

Ashton makes it through the funeral, his eulogy, and the wake that follows. He makes it to the end of the week. He makes through seven days of his wife not uttering a word to him. So, he feels weak when the thing that finally causes him to break is his mom leaving.

He had rolled his eyes at the airport when she asked, “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” and all but pushed them onto the plane. He knew they wanted to stay and be there for him, but his siblings still had school. They had already taken a week off. They made promises to see each other the next holiday and then said goodbye.

It doesn’t hit him until he gets home.

There are no more distractions.

The funeral is over.

The few days post-funeral he had spent shopping for and catching up with his mom and his younger siblings.

Now they are gone too.

Michael and Crystal are home together.  

Luke is probably curled up somewhere with Maren.

Calum finally went home to his girlfriend, no longer needed to help plan a funeral.

Ashton is alone.

Maybe not totally alone.

He takes a deep breath and climbs the stairs, en route to his room. He knocks but knows better than to expect an answer before pushing it open.

He’s surprised to find that Luke isn’t there. He’s even more surprised to find his wife sitting up, and scrolling through her phone. “Luke went home?” he asks.

She doesn’t even look up at him.

“Yeah.”

Yeah. The first word his wife has spoken to him since the death of their daughter.

He sits gingerly on the bed. His side of the bed. A bed he hasn’t slept in for months.

“Should we. . .” he trails off, looking at her, hoping to meet her eyes.

She keeps her gaze down.

“Should we talk about it?”

For a minute, he thinks she isn’t going to respond. She’s almost robotic in the way she stares at the small device and in the movement of her thumb. He thinks that maybe if he sticks it out, if he sits by her, she will look up at him and they will finally get to talk about it - to go through this pain together.

They don’t.

“Ashton,” Her voice is small. She turns off her phone, but her eyes never leave it. “Don’t take this the wrong way but - “

Her voice is breaking, just like his heart.

“I’m having a hard time okay? I just want to be alone to process my emotions. I can’t talk about it. It is still too painful.”

He doesn’t know what that means. What he’s supposed to do with that information. A million responses roll through his mind.

He eventually settles on, “Okay.”

Before he’s even out the door, he has his phone in hand, dialing a number he hasn’t touched in years.

- after: maren -

The first words Maren says after Eden dies are, “I need to go get Eden ready for school.”

She’s woken up by someone placing something on her bedside table, and for a brief moment, before she even opens her eyes, her subconscious thinks it’s Ashton waking her up to go get Eden. They had done it many times before. He would make her breakfast, a nice gesture, but inevitably wake her up with the clanging of the breakfast tray on the bedside table.

But this time it wasn’t Ashton, and she would never get Eden ready for school again.

When Luke lets out a shuddering breath, reality comes rushing back to her. As soon as her eyes open, she is crying. She has only seen people through her tears recently.

Luke is crying too.

At this point, it’s two days since Eden’s death. One day since they got home from the hospital. The car was hit on the passenger side, where Eden had been peacefully babbling, playing with a stuffed giraffe she had “won for her uncle Lu” at the carnival.

A drunk driver. Dead on impact as well.

The car had spun out, gone off the bank on the opposite side of the road before being stopped by a thicket of trees. She had been conscious until the airbag deployed, causing the majority of her injuries.

Lucky. That’s what the doctor said when she awakened. She was lucky to walk away with a few burns and a broken arm.

Mourning a child felt impossible. If the driver had hit her side and Ashton were planning her funeral, she knows it would be hard, but some part of her thinks like it would be better.

She has experienced life. Eden has not. She’ll never experience the first day of first grade, she’ll never get her first report card, do a science project, have a first crush, bring a significant other home, anything.

The thought swarms her mind what feels like every second of every day. So much so that she can’t speak. She thinks that if she does, all that will come out is a list. A list of things that she’ll never see her baby do.

So, she locks herself away. Luke is the only one brave enough to come and see her - and even then they don’t speak. They cry and listen to Eden’s favorite albums and watch Paw Patrol of all things. All without exchanging a word.

She leaves her room twice in that first week. The first time, she shuffles down the stairs in search of water. It’s expected when what feels like a thousand voices float up from the foyer, getting clearer as she gets closer.

She knows that all the boys are there. They wouldn’t leave Ashton’s side at a time like this.

When she walks into the kitchen where they’re gathered, everyone grows quiet, watching her as if she is teetering on the edge of a break.

To be fair, she is.

She sees Crystal’s baby bump for the first time since the accident and immediately breaks down in tears.

The second time is for Eden’s funeral.

Ashton even gets a fucking priest. Neither of them are very religious, so it feels disingenuous. She briefly wonders if five-year-olds go to heaven. If Eden is somewhere at that moment, being taken care of.

It’s a nice thought. Something easy to believe.

Perhaps that’s why Ashton got the priest in the first place.

She sits in the back and leaves before it’s over.

Ashton tries to comfort her at times. She’s aware of him coming to her door daily, of the food he sends up with Luke even after she says she doesn’t want to eat, of the gentle hand that he places on her shoulder at the funeral that she promptly shakes off.

She loves Ashton.

She does.

But Ashton is Eden’s twin. They were always joking about that. Now, Maren couldn’t look at him without being reminded of everything she’s lost.

She doesn’t expect it when Ashton stops trying.

The day she sends Luke home is the day she pushes Ashton away.

She realizes too late that it’s a mistake. It means getting out of bed and making her own tea.

The first day she tries but finds one of Eden’s sippy cup forgotten at the back of the cupboard. She spends three hours on the kitchen floor crying.

At the end of the second week, she works up the energy to make an appointment with a grief counselor.

“And how is your husband taking all this?”

Counseling is going great until she gets that question.  

She doesn't know how to tell her counselor that she hasn’t seen her husband in weeks. She has no idea where he is or what he has been up to. She never even asked him how he was feeling about the death of their first child.

At the encouragement of her counselor, she makes an effort to reach out to Ashton.

Staring at her phone screen for hours, she finally decides on a text.

Dinner?  

She’s not sure that he will respond.

He does, seconds later.

He says, i'll be home in 20.

After all that time, Ashton still came running when she called.

She thinks it’ll be cute to bring back some of their old traditions. The first time she cooks for Ashton, it is after spending an entire day wrapped around each other. Naturally, she was wearing his clothes while she did it. Somehow, it becomes a ritual of theirs: her wearing his clothes as she moves about the kitchen, him watching from the sidelines pretending to help.

What she finds in his t-shirt drawer derails the entire night.

When Ashton walks in, she is not in the kitchen preparing dinner, but in the living room, sitting quietly in the dim light of their table lamp.

“Really?” Maren asks. This is the second conversation they’ve had since Eden, and she feels like this will be their last.

Ashton’s eyes finally fall on the bottle in her hand. It’s a translucent orange with a handful of white pills sitting at the bottom. When she shakes it, its rattle thunders through the room. His flinch lets her know that at least part of him feels remorse.

He had stopped taking Xanax before they got married. It was their deal. She would only marry him if he got clean. To know that he was back. . .

Ashton’s first reaction is to downplay it all.

“Eden is fucking dead, Mare. This is my way of dealing with it. Just like yours is to disappear to your room for weeks and refuse to say anything to me.”

Maren doesn’t respond. She knows that if she opens her mouth to speak, she is going to yell. Gritting her teeth, she tries to keep her comments to herself – comments about how her dead daughter is not an excuse for him falling off the wagon.

Her silence only serves to agitate him.

She has to tighten her grip on the pill bottle as he continues, voice rising as he yells, “What so you’re allowed to feel things, and I’m not?”

Anger bubbles inside her. First, he uses their daughter as an excuse to go back to the dark places of his past, and now he is throwing her own grief back at her. She stands, facing him, but tries to keep her voice level, aware of how easy it would be for both of them to start screaming.

“This isn’t feeling things. This is you not knowing how to deal with your emotions, same as always.”

“What the fuck are you on about?” He asks, as if this isn’t a conversation they’d had before, as if she hadn’t once begged him to go to therapy for it.

“When you were on tour, and you missed us, instead of allowing yourself to feel it, you buried yourself in work and pretended everything was fine. This is no different.”

“You’re comparing the pain that I’m feeling over our dead daughter to me missing you on tour?”

“No.” She knows he is purposely misunderstanding her for the sake of argument. She explains herself anyway, “I am saying that just like how you refused to deal with your pain then, you are refusing to deal with your pain now.

“Ashton, our daughter is dead.” He winces at her impassive tone. That is the difference between them. It has taken her months of depression and counseling to be able to say those words. Ashton isn’t there yet, and she knows that if he doesn’t acknowledge his feelings, he never will be.

“Our daughter is dead. And that is not something that you can forget or pretend isn’t happening with drugs. You need to allow yourself time to mourn her. The drugs? That’s not helping you feel things.” She calls back his earlier phrase again, to drive her point in. “That’s helping you burry those feelings.”

He recoils as if her words are a slap to the face.

“Oh get off your fucking high horse, Mare!” Because of the volume and the intensity of his words, now Maren is the one to flinch. It was like this before too, with the drugs. He was easily irritable, prone to blaming his out of control behavior on anything other than himself, “I had to deal with this shit by myself. You disappeared. I had to plan this funeral while I mourned the loss of our child. And you created this distance between us. You! The only other person who understood what I was going through.”

He’s screaming by the time he has finished.

And he’s right.

That’s the painful part. Maren fucked them up first, but if she sticks around, Ashton is going to make everything worse. She knows she didn’t deal with Eden’s death in the best way just like she knows that Ashton isn’t coping in the best way now. If they continue down this path, they’re just going to keep hurting each other.

“I think I’m gonna go.”

“Go where? We’re not done.”

She ignores his angry protests and sidesteps him as she makes her way to the door.

“I love you,” she says. Her back is to him, hand already poised on the knob. “I will never love someone as much as I love you. And that’s why I think it’s best if I go.”

“Why are you always trying to walk away from us?” His voice is small now, barely above a whisper. She can feel him pleading in his words.

He is referring to the first time she gave him an ultimatum. Back then, he had brought her the beautiful ring that still sat on her finger, but he had been so drugged up he could barely get words out. What she told him then is what she tells him now.

“You need to realize Ash that this is bad for you, for the both of us. When you realize that and you get clean, come find me.”

She looks back at him for a brief second, and the last thing she sees before she leaves are the tears running down his face.

--

end notes: don’t forget to let me know what you think! thanks for reading!

tag list: @5sosnsfw / @bloodmoonashton / @lukescaboose / @5sex-of-summa / @deviantnines / @halcyonnhood / @gh0st-0f-y0u-95 / @aspiringwildfire / @cal-pal-cuddles / @hotmessmichael / @hereforlukescruff / @softforcal / @ohhmuke / @calum5os / @grittyisathot / @calumamongmen / @ashtonandcalslefthand / @asht0ns-world / @colorful-queen-of-the-roses / @peraltiago-drarry / @slowlyelectronictragedy / @myemptywallets / @pagesuponstpages / @fallfrxmgrace / @thefireisgone / @michaelorwhat / @dammitbands

[angeldormante]

Hi! I have another TMNT question, or two? Leo is a closed off brother and holds in his emotions, but would he express his feelings to April or another if he were to have actual *feelings* for them? How would that look like? Also, do you think it's easy for others in their lives (April, etc) to read Donnie's and Leo's emotions/feelings as easy as Mikey or Raph who seem more open about their feelings (wears heart on sleeve, etc)?

you’re always welcome in my ask box, anon!!

if we’re talking about 2003 leo in particular, i’ve always interpreted him as gray aro-ace. the leo we see in the show seems fairly out of touch with his sexuality – they all do, to a degree, which isn’t surprising when you consider how limited their opportunities have been to socialize outside of their family. even when he starts making personal friends and connections, though, leo in particular never seems to show any signs of physical attraction towards anyone. speaking as an asexual person myself who went through my teenage years undiscovered, i think that maybe leo has never actually thought much about sexuality as something that applied to or affected him. like many things the guys don’t understand about society, he probably dismissed it as a “human thing”. in fact, while i don’t believe he’d necessarily be sex-repulsed, i do feel like the topic of his sexuality would be such a totally unexplored thing for him that it would make him greatly uncomfortable if he were made to confront it.

that said, though, i can easily see him as demi-romantic. he’s formed some intense emotional attachments to certain people like karai and usagi that feel, at least to me, much different than the one he has to his brothers or april. i do hesitate to call even those attachments “romantic” as they appeared in canon, but i do think the potential for them to develop that way was there. i again boil it down to leo’s inexperience in processing intimate emotions aside from the platonic ones he’s familiar with. the boy is just woefully out of touch with 70% of his emotions.

which finally brings me to your first question?? forgive me for the headcanon exposition dump oml. my personal interpretation, building off of everything above, is that leonardo is very closed off from the concept of romance and sex – due to a mixture of his own gray-spectrum sexuality and his tendency to ignore/repress emotions he doesn’t know how to deal with. so closed off, i really don’t think he’d be able process them without some help. i do feel like if he were to get there, and it’s possible, he’d be a very warm and gentle lover – but the way he is now, i just don’t see him as having the emotional maturity to recognize these things in himself and take any sort of first step at all.

sorry if that’s kind of an unsatisfying answer… (- ̫ -`;) i know it’s p dependent on my personal headcanon, ahaha

as for your other question!! i do think donnie and especially leo can come off as slight enigmas to people outside of their immediate family. it seems like every incarnation of april cottons onto them both pretty quickly, though – which i write down as her sharing some unique traits with both of them. she and don tend to be the intellectual heavyweights that protect the family with their scientific expertise, which is a heavily involved endeavor that they rely on each other a lot for; and on the other side of the same coin, april definitely has that older sibling/maternal caretaker position in the family that lets her commiserate with leo on a level that i don’t think anyone else really can. it makes sense that she seems close to and is easily able to read them in most of the ‘verses.

for others who don’t get the particular blessing of being april o’neil, though, it’s almost definitely harder. don and leo can both be pretty closed off, though i don’t think don is too tough to read unless the situation is one that he’s intentionally detaching himself from. in that sense, don’s mood can be its own context clue: he tends to be fairly warm or at least good-natured unless something is truly upsetting him, in which case the shutters come down. the issue is that he rarely actually gets that upset, so for people who aren’t super familiar with him, they probably don’t realize what a distinction there is between don’s more neutral moods and his sour ones.

back to leo – who just continues to be a pain in the ass. tbh leo probably comes off as cold and distant way more than he intends to, and i don’t doubt that anyone outside of his family would be totally blind to most of his “tells”. i imagine they’d be subtle things: the way he carries his tension, disruptions in his routines, sharper speech patterns, things like that. understated changes that you’d only notice about someone you live with every day. even casey seems mostly unable to read leo, and he’s one of the extremely select few with the privilege of being considered part of the tmnt’s extended family.

all in all, yes – i definitely think that the guys’ casual friends/acquaintances have a harder time reading don and leo. it’s what makes them super dangerous in their own way, but at the same time…… it also means they could literally just be thinking about what pizza toppings they want and meanwhile they’re giving someone a 30yd death stare like please, boys, fucking emote for once in your lives.

[tmnt-rambles]

Imagine an AU where everyone only gets their ‘soulmate mark’ at twenty. Imagine being older than the turtles and April so when you get your mark you find out your soulmate is Mikey but there’s a huge problem, has already in a committed relationship with April. ******** PART 4. THE LAST PART FOR MIKEY. It had been almost a month since your incident on the roof with Mikey and Leo. A stressful night that made you feel like you were losing your mind. Looking back as the past month you, it almost felt surreal to you. Like it has all been a dream and at any moment you'd wake up and be right back in that emotional hell. Mikey and Leo sorted out their issues(well, Mikey's issues) and talked things through, Mikey admitted to jumping to conclusions but Leo just smiled and gave his brother a playful slap on his shoulder and spouting something about stress. The brothers endless teased you about that night on the roof, claiming one person almost tore the fearsome foursome apart. You never stopped feeling guilty about that and since you had decided to stay in New York, you were always baking and buying the boys their favorite treats in a way to make up for the drama. Now as you laid curled up in your bed under a mountain of sheets, you glanced down at the name on your wrist and smiled softly. "Sugarplum!" You groaned hearing Mikey's cheerful voice fill your apartment. Quickly you pulled the covers over your head and remained perfectly still, hoping he would buy the lie that you were still sleeping. "I saw you moving, Dollface." Mikey chuckled before pouncing on your bed, squishing you under the weight of him. "M-Mikey! C-Can't. BREATHE!" You gasped, your voice coming out muffled from the thick blanket that was pulled over your head. Laughing softly, Mikey rolled off of you and crawled under the sheets, his arms circling around your stomach to pull your back flush against his plastron. "Can't smother my lover." He hummed, his face nuzzling into the crook of your neck. You couldn't stop the soft giggle from escaping your lips as you snuggled yourself back against your soulmate. Yes, a great many things changed after that night on your roof. That was a night that would forever be locked into your memory. A night filled with the craziest emotions but oddly, the best outcome you could've hoped for, one that still managed to baffle you. ****flashback****** "Sugarplum," Mikey continued still ignoring his brothers that were gawking at the two of you like hawks. As if you two were animals performing for them in a circus. Of course in their young lives they had never seen Mikey as serious as he was in this moment. Even in battle Mikey would crack jokes and completely act carefree but now, now Mikey had a soft expression, no look of amusement in his tear filled blue eyes as he stared down into you E/C orbs. "When I saw the mark I got scared. I had convinced myself that we would never have something as precious as soulmates because....well, look at us. When I thought Leo was yours I was ecstatic for him. And for you." Your heart was beating so hard you were sure it was about to burst out of your chest and fling itself off the side of the building. Your hands went up to rest over Mikey's that still held your red, wind chilled cheeks. Your breathing hitching as you heard a crack in Mikey's voice as he continued. "When April introduced you to us I ended up having the world's biggest crush on you but I saw how well you and Leo got on so I never made a move. I'd constantly talk to April about it which somehow ended up with us starting our relationship. I didn't think I had a chance 'cause, I mean...he's Leo. Ya look up noble and worthy in the dictionary and it'll probably just be a picture of him. I didn't think I could've competed." He paused to take a quick look at Leo who was just smiling softly at the two of you. "Don't get smug, bro." He chuckled before turning his attention back to you, his thumb wiping a way the tears you didn't know that had slipped from your eyes. All of Mikey's words were tearing you up inside, filling you with a bit of hope, but also making you angry that he didn't think he was good enough or could even compare to his leader and brother. You had thought only Raph held these types of insecurities, but apparently Mikey also felt envious of his brother at times. "Anyway, when I saw the mark I knew what I had to do. I hated leavin' you like that but one thing I am is an honest guy. Before I could say or react I had'ta end things with April. It wouldn't be fair to her or you, please tell me you understand, Sugarplum. I didn't want to hurt you but if I had stayed, I probably would've done somethin' stupid. I'm a lot of things but I ain't no cheater." His confession left you wide eyed and speechless. You had thought Mikey hated you but it was the complete opposite. Your chilled hands squeezed his and your eyes fluttered shut, a wave of emotions washing over you for the billionth time that night. "I thought you hated me." You let out a mix between a sob and chuckle. With your eyes still closed, you felt Mikey lean forward and press his forehead to yours. "Never, Y/N. Not in a million years. I love ya, Sugarplum." ****end flashback***** After that you and Mikey took things slowly, he'd come over for date night twice a week, it even took four dates before he'd even kiss you. He was the perfect gentleman, which took you by surprise since your, now, 'boyfriend' or 'lover' which ever you'd prefer was known to crack lewd jokes here and there. Mikey even made sure that the first thing you two did before you even entertained the idea of going on an official date was get Splinter's blessing. Of course Splinter was thrilled Mikey found his one and could now start on his own path to happiness. You knew Splinter had hoped that this would help mature Mikey but luckily for you, he was still the same joke telling, video game loving, skateboarding, pizza eating Ninja you had fallen in love with. Things with April were never tense. In fact, the first time you saw her after Mikey and her ended their relationship, she engulfed you into the tightest hug saying she was glad your soulmate ended up being Mikey. She had no ill will towards you or Mikey. Even now the two of you would have girls night while your boys were out patrolling. April did find her soulmate, Casey Jones--to no one's surprise-- so once a week the two of you would "double date" at her apartment since you couldn't take Mikey out in public. Mikey stayed over almost every night, or when Splinter would allow. The two of you were closer now than you ever thought you would be and you couldn't be happier. You knew Mikey loved you, but you couldn't wait for him to turn twenty so he could feel the heart pulling connection that you did every time you heard his voice. "You're being quiet, babydoll. Everythin' alright?" Mikey asked with a kiss to your neck, knocking you out of your own thoughts. You smiled and rolled over in his arms, your fingers running up his plastron slowly before leaning in to steal a quick kiss. "Of course. I'm just really, really happy right now." You beamed snuggling into your soulmates chest. "Are you happy?" Mikey chuckled and let his fingers brush through your hair gently before peppering your face with playful kisses, "Happier than Donnie at radio shack." He spoke in between kisses, "Happier than Leo with a ticket to Japan," he continued on, each kiss and word earning a giggle from you, "Happier than Raph in a room full of punching bags and Vin Diesel movies." With that you couldn't help but bust out laughing. Hearing you laugh made Mikey start attacking you with kisses and tickles. "Happier than Michelangelo at an all you can eat pizza bar?" You asked, playfully pushing him back onto his shell, you pulling yourself into his lap so you were straddling his hips. Mikey smirked and gave a light shrug of his shoulders, his hands resting on your hips. "Now let's not be unrealistic, Sugarplum. No one can be that happy." He teased with a wink. "What about, happier than Mikey when Y/N says they want to spend the day in bed?" You asked with a smirk and arched brow before reaching up to pull off his orange mask, and tossing it carefully to your bedside table. "Hell yeah, now you're speaking my language, baby." You swear you heard Mikey growl at the thought and before you could react, the ninja had you flipped onto your back and your hands pinned over your head. "I love you, Sugarplum." "Love you too, Mikey." END! [I HOPE YOU LIKED IT. I know this part is shorter than the others but I wanted to get it out before work in the morning. Next I'll be doing Donnie(after the request) so if you have any ideas or suggestions please let me know.]