#Can’t wait to show mikey in full
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sunset duo time!!
(Don’t mind the design change for raph after i just posted his ref, i wanted to make him more bird like, hence “the beak”)
mikey is so sweet to his big brother, and raph really takes Mikey’s words to heart.
Presenting as masculine and tough isnt so easy when youve got a rainbow on your back (at least to raph)
mikey says otherwise, helping his brother embrace his bright colors and use them to his advantage 👀
#To the sky tmnt au#tmnt#tmnt 2012#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt rapheal#tmnt au#tmnt fanart#I had so much fun doing the rainbow lighting!!#Can’t wait to show mikey in full#He’s so colorful!! And cute 🧡#tmnt sunset duo
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Are you still taking prompts? If so, could I ask for some rise!Raph and Mikey? Their brotherly relationship really intrigues me and I wish we could have seen more of it develop in the show, and I just know you would do it justice :D thanks
set pre-movie, canon divergence, in which i simply toss mikey at a problem to fix it
read on ao3
x
This same time last year, Mikey couldn’t wait to grow up.
Because sometimes—only sometimes—he felt like he had something he needed to prove.
It’s not that his family doesn’t believe in him. If anything, he thinks, from the lofty heights and newly acquired maturity of fourteen years old, they believe in him a little too much. Whatever he says he can accomplish, they give him room for—and if he can’t pull it off, they help him out and still afford him full credit. Mikey knows it’s just another way they spoil him, but it’s the least egregious manner in which they do, so he lets it slide.
And it’s definitely not that he ever feels left out or left behind. Michelangelo and his brothers operate on a fulcrum that turns four ways as naturally as the needle on a compass, guided by gravity and the poles of the planet and something even more intrinsic and fundamental than all of that.
Even when they’re fighting, when Mikey can’t be in the same room as Donnie without the Cain Instinct taking over or Leo goes full Mean Girls and has the cattiest-sounding Facetime with April about whichever one of them ticked him off, purposefully taking his call in the living room where they all could hear it, none of that ever lasts longer than a day. They burn bright and loud and hot, but they burn fast. Gravity keeps everything together.
Come on, gravity, Mikey thinks, holding onto his temper very carefully. Do your thing.
“I am not,” he says, for the billionth time in his life, “a baby.”
Raph looks a little nervous, which almost makes Mikey feel bad. But then he says, “That ankle’s sprained, big man. You shouldn’t walk on it.”
“Leo wrapped it up super well! I’ll be careful!”
Their resident medic is smiling a little to himself, packing everything up again to his own meticulous organizational standards. (Only Donnie truly has his system figured out, but Mikey thinks that’s because they share a brain or soul or whatever.) It’s the full kit, too, Leo didn’t bother with the emergency supplies in his belt-bag and instead opened up a little dinner-plate-sized portal that he reached through to ransack their infirmary back home.
Mikey wants to roll around on his shell in annoyance. It wasn’t even that bad!
“Sprains can be worse than breaks sometimes,” Leo remarks neutrally, as if he’s commenting on the weather. “Would you rather be careful now or laid up for a couple extra weeks?”
Raph seems grateful for the input, even though he doesn’t look at Leo and Leo doesn’t look up from his kit.
Ugh. “Ugh!” Mikey says out loud for good measure. “Then I can just walk on my hands!”
It summons a wider smile from Leonardo, one of those crooked, pleasantly surprised ones. He’s so clever and thinks in circles around everyone else—not to be mean or tricky, just because his brain is as fast as Donnie’s and eats up seconds like a racecar around a Formula 1 track—that it’s fun to catch him off-guard with something totally out-of-pocket and watch that smile show up.
“The whole way back to the Tank?�� Raph says skeptically.
“You bet!” Mikey has warmed up to the idea now.
“This I have to see,” Donnie says, putting his phone away and folding his arms on Leo’s carapace.
“I’ll have you know, Donald, that I walked on my hands for like two days once.”
“Believe me, Michael, I remember. I was there.”
“You tried to make spaghetti for dinner with your feet,” Leo pipes up, and giggles when Donnie makes a gagging noise above him. He’s done packing his stuff up but he’s still sitting, probably because he likes the weight of his lazy twin leaning against his shell.
Sensing no further help from that quarter, Raph says, “Mike—” but Mikey has already capitalized on his moment of indecision and flipped forward into a handstand. His foot actually does hurt a lot and his center of balance is a tiny bit skewed, but honestly he could do this for hours. He books it for the edge of the roof, putting something like a skip into his step just to make the twins laugh. There’s a shuffle and a cut-off noise that means the big worry-wart didn’t like it but puh-lease. Mikey’s safe as houses.
It’s when he clambers up onto the parapet that he remembers the fire escape on this building is the kind with the rolling ladders, not the stairs.
No one says anything behind him, letting him come to his own conclusion. Mikey would appreciate that except they’re only doing it because he’s the baby and they don’t want to upset him.
Spinning around, the concrete scraping against his palms, Mikey aims an explosively unhappy frown at all three of them from upside-down.
“I could have done it,” he insists.
“Of course you could have,” Raph is the first to say. “There’s not a doubt in my mind you could have walked to the moon on your hands if you wanted to. But you don’t have to walk while you’re hurt when Raph is here to carry you.”
He’s so earnest and sweet. It goes a long way in making Mikey forget why he was even annoyed to begin with. His brothers are lucky they’re so loveable!
With a groan he tucks his head and shoulders and rolls forward, shell bumping playfully against the edge of the parapet, and comes right-side-up sitting criss-cross-applesauce.
“Fine,” he capitulates. “But only because Raphie thinks I could hand-walk to the moon.”
“And back,” Raph says, smiling down at him. Mikey lifts his arms to be scooped up and settled in his usual spot on Raph’s shoulder.
If this was a year ago, Leo would have been right next to him, perched on Raph’s opposite shoulder and making silly jokes to make Mikey feel better. Leo loves to be carried. It was the one little brother thing his cool guy persona could never eclipse. The one thing Mikey was certain he wouldn’t outgrow no matter how old he got.
But instead of crossing the roof at a run to leap into Raph’s arms, always trusting the process, knowing they would open in time to catch him, Leo stays put. Maybe because Donnie is still resting his weight on him. But his expression is so transparently wistful and lonely for a split-second, even though his brothers are all right there, that it causes a pang of upset in Mikey’s heart.
“Hey, Lee, room for one more,” he says, patting Raphie’s shoulder.
Raph scoffs under his breath, which makes Mikey’s stomach do a surprised, uncomfy flip. Leo hears it, and his expression shutters so fast it’s almost unnatural, everything replaced by a wide, plastic smile.
“Gotta get my steps in, Miguel,” he says, shoving his kit back through a portal and wiggling his shoulders so Donnie knows he’s about to stand up. “This figure doesn’t come free, you know.”
He adds an imaginary hair-toss. Raph looks like he didn’t expect anything else. Mikey thinks he must not have seen that expression on Leo’s face.
But it’s all Mikey can think about the entire drive home. That gulf between fourteen and fifteen where apparently everything changes.
——
Something has been wrong for awhile now, ever since Pops made Leo the leader and turned their team inside out, but Mikey figured they were due for an adjustment period. Raph had a hard time letting go of responsibility and Leo had a hard time picking it up, but once they found their way back onto the same page everything would be okay. Gravity would keep them together. They didn’t know any other way to be.
Except it’s been weeks and the arguing is only getting worse and it’s not even really that much fun to patrol anymore in the first place. Mikey usually loves going out at night with his brothers, finding bad guys to beat up and getting those ninja endorphins, but he’s sort of starting to feel about it the way kids in daytime television feel about homework. He just wants to get it over with.
Tonight Leo is being a little silly. Flubbing jumps and slow to catch his cues. Once he even missed a sixteenth-story ledge and would have fallen—which was not funny at all and a bad joke to make—but Donnie’s arm shot out and caught him so smoothly that it had to have been planned. Like a trust fall! Or maybe twin telepathy actually is a thing and Donnie was just tricking them with all those printouts he handed around that one time to prove Leo wrong. Either way, Leo wasn’t actually in danger.
Mikey loves silly Leo, and played right along into his antics, but maybe he shouldn’t have. Raph was ticked off and, by the time Leo missed that ledge, fed-up. He cut the evening short and told Leo to just portal them home.
That’s when the wary little thing in the back of Mikey’s brain pokes its head up out of the ground. That’s when he realizes something was Wrong wrong. Capital wrong.
Because Leo says, “Your wish is my command, my liege,” with the right amount of theater kid gusto, and that’s normal. He summons a pretty spinning blue portal as tall as Raph stood at the shoulder and hops through first, leaving Raph to make a hissing noise against his teeth and duck his head to follow, and that’s normal. Mikey glances over at Donnie, who doesn’t look up from where his snout is buried in his phone to wave Mikey ahead of him, and that’s normal, too.
It’s easy to take for granted how amazing Leo’s portals are. With two steps, Mikey walks off a cool rooftop in Brooklyn and into their warmly lit living room. He can hear Pops’ telenovelas from the projector room and smell the beef burgundy he’d left to simmer on the stove for dinner.
And distracted as he is, listening to the familiar rising and falling cadence of Raph’s worn-out lecture about responsibility and watching the pretend-listening bob of Leo’s head, Mikey still sees it when the portal wobbles as Don steps through.
Maybe it wouldn’t have seemed like a big deal, except Leo’s face goes white and his whole body stills, and the coloring of his stripes starts to tinge toward neon like his ninpo is about to light up.
And that’s not normal at all.
It was just a split-second of destabilization, and Donnie moves through it just fine, but Leo holds his breath and keeps the portal open until his twin is right beside him.
“This is literally what I’m talking about,” Raph says, that worried wrinkle in his brow deeper than ever. “Leo please listen when I talk just this once. If you’re not paying attention someone could get hurt. What if the portal just then had—”
“Woah, did you hear that?” Leo says right over him, cupping a hand at the side of his head as if to listen for something. “There’s another super riveting lecture about everything I do wrong happening in my room. I’m gonna catch that one instead. Thanks for this, though.”
He slips away as easily as if he was part eel instead of turtle and books it out of the living room in a way that manages to look like a casual saunter instead of the full-steam retreat it actually is.
Raph looks stunned at the blatant dismissal, and then hurt, and then it all boils together into something furious. He’s never actually angry with them. It’s just that he cares so, so much and sometimes he has nowhere to put it. Sometimes it becomes something too big for him to hold.
Right in that moment, he seems ready to grab Leo and rattle him until he ran out of nonsense and had no choice but to listen.
“I’ll handle this one, Raphala,” Donnie says abruptly. “I’m the one who almost got spliced, so I’m the one who gets to have the first opinion about it.”
Since the twins’ whole schtick is getting each other into and out of trouble with very little regard for anything else, Raph looks reasonably skeptical of him ‘handling’ it. But Don is already following Leo out of the room, and the potential of another argument is removed neatly by his exit.
Raph deflates a little bit. He’s the biggest strongest person Mikey knows, but suddenly he looks small.
“Hey, Raphie, wanna help me dish up dinner?” Mikey says, smiling up at him. Anxious to banish that uncharacteristic smallness with the full force of his own personality if that’s what it takes. “You take dad his plate and I’ll wrangle Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Lee.”
Raph smiles back at him, at least, and carefully carries two big servings of stew served over garlic mashed potatoes to the projector room. Pops will probably rope him into watching his shows and maybe Raph will actually take a minute to relax when it’s just him and dad and hearty comfort food and bad TV.
Mikey ladles up two more bowls and takes a couple of individually-wrapped Gansito snack cakes out of his stash for good measure. It’s a sweet treat kind of night, he thinks. He’ll have to remember to get one for Raphie, too.
Leo’s room is empty, and so is Donnie’s. Since Mikey doesn’t know where any of Leo’s secret hiding places are in their new lair, he only hesitates for a second before checking the lab.
Oh, Mikey thinks, holding the tray in numb hands. Something is Wrong.
The twins are both on the sofa that got shoved into the corner of the room as a compromise to Don’s occasional all-nighters, turtle-piled under a weighted blanket. Leo’s wearing noise-canceling headphones, using Don’s leathery carapace as a pillow. His mask is dangling from one sleep-loose hand, so the big dark circles under his eyes stand out on his pale face.
Donnie’s still awake, tapping away on his phone. He doesn’t look up at the doorway that Mikey is standing in, but he does use one hand to sign a subtle, silent “no.” No talking? No company? Probably both.
Swallowing hard, Mikey lifts the tray he’s holding up a little higher. That does get Don to look at him, and his second-oldest brother softens at whatever Mikey’s face must look like. He nods toward the desk, and signs, “Thanks, M. We’ll eat before it gets cold.”
The only thing Mikey wants in the entire world at this moment is to crawl onto the sofa with them. He would probably get away with it, he doesn’t think there’s ever been a time in his entire life he wasn’t truly welcome in a turtle pile. But Donnie said no. And Leo looks so tired.
He puts the tray on the desk, ninja-quiet, and leaves again without a whisper.
His phone chimes in his pocket once he’s out the door, and he pulls it out to find a text from Don that says He’ll be okay, Angelo. He just needs to get some sleep.
Leo’s relationship with sleep has always been hot-and-cold. Usually he’s pretty honest about it when it gets bad, in the sense that he lets them see how exhausted he is instead of hiding it behind a goofy, cocky exterior.
Remembering that missed ledge from earlier tonight causes ice to form in Mikey’s stomach. That wasn’t a trust fall at all, was it?
Biting his lip, Mikey sends back, Would a visit from Dr. Feelings help?
The typing dots appear, but only for a second. The reply comes swiftly: Not this time.
——
That night Mikey tosses and turns for an hour before finally pulling a move he hasn’t in ages and slinking over to Raph’s room. He lingers uncertainly in the open door, because he doesn’t know how little you have to be to be allowed to crawl into Raphie’s nest and let him hug the world all better. Mikey had thought that was a forever thing, but he can’t get Leo’s face on the rooftop out of his head.
Raph is still awake, playing on his Switch, and notices the shadow that passes in front of the doorway instantly. He sets his game down and lifts one arm in automatic welcome and Mikey crosses the room at a run and slams into the embrace as if it’s an offer that might expire.
And it might. Mikey had never really thought it would before.
“Hey, big man,” Raph says, his voice a comforting rumble that rights all wrongs. “Couldn’t sleep?”
Mikey nods, and picks at a loose thread in the pink comforter, and then says, “Will you still carry me when I’m fifteen?”
“What? Of course I will.”
“What about sixteen?”
“You’re never gonna be too big for Raph to carry, Mike. I’ll always be the biggest, big enough to haul you bozos around whether you like it or not.”
Some frightened little creature inside Mikey’s chest loosens the grip it has on his heart with its teeth. But it doesn’t fully let go. And Mikey can’t help but ask, “What if we argue a lot and stop being friends?”
The idea of not being friends with his brother is enough on its own to make him want to burst into tears. He has no idea how Leo isn’t just constantly bawling. Then he remembers the circles under Leo’s eyes that don’t show when he’s wearing his mask and the way Donnie always follows him out of the room now. And he thinks it’s silly of him to forget that pain shows itself differently from one person to the next.
Hurt chases understanding across Raph’s expression, and he squeezes Mikey a little tighter to his plastron.
“I’ll love you no matter what, Angie. You and Leo and Don are forever for me, okay? If the world ends tomorrow, I’ll still be somewhere, loving my little brothers. It’s too big to just disappear.”
Mikey is fourteen years old and too old to be coddled anymore but not too old that he doesn’t trust in Raphael with his entire heart and then some. If Raph believes Mikey could walk to the moon and back, Mikey believes his biggest brother could lift up the whole sky and hold it for as long as he wanted to, if he wanted to.
Laying there under the warm pink blanket, with Raph’s twinkling nightlight in the corner and the sound of dad’s TV down the hall, Mikey thinks about things that last forever, things you can never outgrow—inside jokes between siblings, skilled hands wrapping sprained ankles, a door standing open in the dark in case you couldn’t sleep.
Then he thinks about those looks on Raph’s and Leo’s faces when they thought no one was watching. How lonely they’ve both been without their best friend on their team.
“Can you do me a favor tomorrow?” he asks before he can think better of it. “Scoop Leo.”
“Mikey…” Raph sighs, not wanting to say what Mikey already knows he’s thinking. That Leo would hate it, that it would cause another argument, that he doesn’t want to fight first thing tomorrow morning. He doesn’t want to fight at all.
“Don’t—don’t do it like you’re mad,” Mikey adds quickly, heart thumping. “Like you caught him sneaking out or you need to keep him in one place so dad can check his stitches but he keeps slipping away like a buttered noodle. Do it like—like you missed him. Pretend he’s been gone for a long time and he just got home. And you’re happy to see him.”
Once Leo went away with April to an overnight camp. It was a nerd camp, he’d said gleefully, bright eyes scanning the brochure, and there was a chess league! April’s mom was a volunteer organizer and promised Splinter that it was a relatively small, local event, and that Leo would be safe.
It was the longest the brothers had ever been apart before. Even though they texted and video called near-constantly, by the end of the week it had felt like they’d misplaced a limb somewhere. When Leo finally swanned into the lair he had bags of souvenirs for all of them and a hundred stories to tell and the first thing he did was drop everything and run straight into Raph’s open arms. The way he always does. The first thing he always does.
Raph is looking at Mikey in the semi-dark with unreadable eyes. It takes a minute, seconds crawling by so slowly Mikey starts to worry Raph will say no. He builds up all these new fears, a subdivision development springing up where problems will live in rows of cookie-cutter houses and pay outrageous mortgages and never truly go away again.
But then Raphie says, “Alright, Ange. But you’re dealing with the fallout.”
He sounds very tired, and a little like he’s just humoring someone who doesn’t know better, but a win is a win.
The next day, when Leo is the last to wander into the kitchen even though he was probably the first one awake, and does that thing where he manages to not look a single person in the eye while otherwise acting totally normal, Raph frowns at him.
Mikey can tell it’s concern. He thinks Leo expects it to be something else, and manages to find whatever he’s looking for even if it’s not really there.
But then Raphael glances over at Mikey, and Mikey holds out his arms and mimes a big scoop. Setting his jaw as though he’s about to go head-to-head with the Shredder again, Raph scoots his chair back from the table, rounds it, and then lifts Leo clean off his feet.
Leo’s eyes are huge and he squirms like a hooked fish, but then Raph says, all bright and charming, “Look what the goat-man dragged in! How’d you sleep, champ?”
“Fine,” the slider says cautiously, slowing his escape attempts, but still looking like he half-expects this to be a trap. When Raph hums and nothing else happens, some little piece of his guard goes down and he adds, “Good. Slept, um, right through my alarm actually. Was worried I was gonna miss Chef Miguel’s magic.”
“Yeah? If you’re still feeling tired after breakfast, you should catch another nap. You know Raph worries.”
They’re each braced for the other to hurt their feelings. But being inside Raph’s arms when he wants to hold you is the best place in the whole world to be. Nothing bad exists and nothing has the power to make you feel small or ugly or scared. It’s just you and this big guy who loves you, who loves to carry you.
For the first time in weeks, Leo’s plastic smile wobbles and slips. He blinks and his eyes get wet and he reaches up to sling his arms around his big brother’s neck. The way to get inside Leo’s head, past all the anxieties, past that constant guard, is to hold him and sound happy to see him. He wants so badly to be wanted. Mikey can’t understand how someone as smart as Leo doesn’t know that he already is.
“I know,” Leo chokes out, “I’m sorry.”
Raph couldn’t have looked more stunned if someone had taken this moment to dump a bucket of ice water on his head. But in true Raph fashion, his arms tighten around his little brother automatically, readjusting their hold so that Leo is more secure. The shape of it transforms from quick hug into steadfast embrace.
Mikey’s biggest brother, who could hold up the whole sky, will stand there and hold Leo together until the heat death of the universe, or until Leo lets go.
“Hey,” Raph says gently, “how about we hit the arcade later, just the two of us? We’re overdue a jam session and I’ll bet there’s a karaoke machine with our names on it.”
“As long as you promise not to attempt Mariah Carey, I’m down for anything, big guy.” Because Leo would follow Raph anywhere, has followed Raph everywhere, and they both seem to be remembering that in real time.
It really must have thrown Leo’s world out of orbit to be the one pushed out in front and expected to lead, with no prior warning or discussion. A jam session is exactly what the two of them need.
“I’ll make French toast for breakfast, but only if we can agree on toppings,” Mikey pipes up from the kitchen, as casually as if his whole heart isn’t a painful, hopeful thing lodged in his throat.
“Raspberry jam,” Leo muffles from somewhere between Raph’s shell and shoulder, “or I’m rioting.”
Raspberry jam and cream cheese stuffed French toast is Raphael’s well-known, all-time favorite breakfast food. Raph shouldn’t be surprised that Leo knows that, so the surprise must come from somewhere else. The last couple of weeks of stress and hurt and frustration go sliding off his spiky shell like water, all replaced by relief. The worry and confusion are still there, but those weigh practically nothing in comparison. He smacks a noisy kiss on the top of Leo’s head, grinning brightly when Leo whines and starts half-heartedly trying to noodle away.
“What’d I tell you?” Donnie says, from his sleepy stake-out in front of the Keurig. “Dr. Feelings is a smart guy, but he doesn’t hold a candle to the smartest guy I know. A Mikey makes everything better.”
Mikey beams at him, the kitchen warm and full and lively, Raph and Leo squabbling playfully by the table, his morning playlist belting out something folky and upbeat, gravity pulling everything back to where it belongs.
Fifteen doesn’t feel so scary anymore. But maybe Mikey’s okay with taking the long way there, after all.
#rottmnt#rise of the tmnt#michelangelo hamato#raphael hamato#leonardo hamato#donatello hamato#my writing#tmnt fic#prompt#anonymous
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The Bee & the Bear, Chapter 1: And Then There Were Four
summary: Mikey’s death brings the gang back together again.
pairing: carmy berzatto x f!reader (Bee)
contents: 18+/NSFW/heavy content, mention of suicide/mental illness, grief, longing, pining, angst, friends to strangersish to lovers
wc: 2.1k
an: this is my first time writing for the Bear so i beg of you to go easy on me.
series masterlist
The sky is gray and cloudy and birds are singing softly, perched in dead trees. There’s snow on the ground, crunching beneath the weight of everyone’s shoes. Beneath the weight of everyone’s grief, so heavy it's palpable. It’s the coldest day of the year, fitting for the occasion. Because Mikey’s dead, taken from all of you with his own hand.
You’re sandwiched between Sugar and Richie, to keep them apart, to keep them together. Regardless of their history and their care for each other, it's always touch and go– a disaster waiting to happen. But with you here and in the flesh after so many years, they’re both trying to balance that fucked up mixture of happiness from seeing your face and the pure despair from losing Mikey.
“Thank you for comin’, sweetheart,” Richie squeezes your shoulders, his eyes soft and watery when you look up at him.
You lean more firmly into his side, “You know I wouldn’t miss it.”
“You know who would.”
You know exactly who he’s talking about. Carmy isn’t here, and while anyone else would expect him to show up to his brother’s funeral it had not surprised you. Not with how the last several years have gone. Richie’s words make you sigh tiredly, and you give him a stern look. The last thing that Mikey’s funeral needs is more blaming. That didn’t start at Mikey’s funeral though, the Berzattos have pointed fingers at each other for as long as you can remember.
There are faces familiar and not around you, all of them turned to the ground, paying their last respects to Mikey. This hurts, it hurts deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. Since you’d gotten that phone call from Sugar something heavy and dark has sat in the pit of your stomach, taking root and finding its home there. Life has always been the 5 of you, even with you and Carmy strewn across the country. You and Mikey and Carmy and Sugar and Richie. A reality that you’d always known, that you found comfort in on days you felt a little too homesick. Your relationships with all of them heavily inspired your art, they had become your family.
As you watch Mikey’s casket be lowered into the ground you can’t help but feel like your lens on life has shifted. For the first time in a long time, you aren’t completely sure where anything goes.
—
“Are you hungry?” Sugar asks as the two of you shed your coats and head into her kitchen.
There was no repass, what with the restaurant currently closed. Everyone had agreed it didn’t feel right to eat anything but The Beef in Mikey’s honor. There had been one last huddle, shared goodbyes and I love yous, and many tears before everyone had dispersed. You’d promised Sugar that you’d help her sort through everything since Carmy never showed up.
“Starving.”
She sets the file box full of Mikey’s paperwork on the counter and takes a step towards the fridge, “I’ll make us something.”
You rest your hand over hers, shaking your head, “No, it’s good, Sugar. Sit, start sifting, I’ll do it.”
“You sure?” She asks skeptically– sure you know how to work your way around a kitchen-- its impossible not to with Mikey and Carmy-- before you’ve never been known for being a cook. You're the artist, the traditional creative of the bunch who has mess and color strewn all about.
“I’m sure, just let me help. It’s what I’m here for, yeah?”
Her eyes go a little soft and she nods, “Yeah, okay.”
She goes to sit at the breakfast bar, looking at the pile of documents that hold Mikey’s life. Heaps and heaps of paper that mean nothing to her. That do a terrible job of capturing who Mikey was and what his life meant to others.
You open the fridge, poking through the contents as if you’ve done this a million times. That’s just how things are with Sugar, they’re comfortable– always have been and always will be. She has the ingredients for their mom’s chicken piccata in her fridge and you quickly fetch them and the proper tools.
Sugar does her best to stay on task, but the sounds of someone else in the kitchen, and the smell of her mother’s food are distracting. She watches the flick of your wrist and the speed of your knife. You dice and sprinkle and stir in similar ways to her brothers. It’s impossible to notice.
“You look like them,” She says, her voice a little melancholic.
“Look like who?” You ask, glancing over your shoulder at her in concern.
The smile on her face is wistful, “Like Mikey. Like Carmy. Carmy especially.”
Something in your chest cracks. You turn back to the pan in front of you, spooning sauce over the chicken one too many times, just to stay away from the tender look on her face. “They did teach me the basics.”
She’s silent for a moment, battling herself, wondering if she should ask this question. It’s a touchy subject, it always has been despite your closeness but she just had to know. “I sorta know the answer to this, but did you…did you try?”
“Don’t start with me, Nat.”
“I just want to know,” She assures you gently. “Did you really try?”
You reach for the jar of capers angrily, though this is less about the anger and more about the hurt. About the longing, this brings up. “He treated me just like everyone else. There was nothing for me to try.”
“You know Carmen’s always had a soft spot for you.”
“Not soft enough to follow through on his words,” You mumble sourly.
She goes quiet then because you’re right. Carmy had taken off for culinary school and seemingly never looked back, besides the infamous Christmas– the one you don’t even know about. All of his promises of staying in touch and showing each other new worlds fell flat.
You had tried. You offered to take him on a food crawl through Seattle where you were going to art school.
“Oh my fucking god,” She grits out, the shock in her voice sending you into fight or flight. The plate in your hand clatters to the counter without breaking, thankfully.
You turn to her, leaning across the counter, “What? What’s wrong?”
Her eyes continue to scan the page in front of her, over and over as if the letters will say something different. “Michael you fucking— he left Bear the restaurant.”
“He what?”
“Fucking Mikey,” She stands abruptly, scrubbing her face with her hands. “Ok, ok, um–uh–can you call Bear? I’m gonna call Richie.”
“Me? Call Carmy?”
Was the man that you’d fallen in love with when he was just a little boy really still out there? Sure, he was— living and breathing, walking and cooking and testing. But, all of that was mechanical. Was his smile still the same? His laugh? Did a heart still beat in that empty chest of his? Did his blue eyes still hold as much as Lake Michigan?
Sugar sees your panic, face softening with concern, “We both know he won’t answer, you’ll be fine.”
“But—“
“Please, Bee?”
The name that Sugar calls you knocks the breath from your lungs. It’s been a long, long time since anyone has called you that— since you left for college. Since the last time you’d seen Carmy. Would he still call you that? He’d started it after all. Named you Bee because you were obsessed with painting flowers, they covered your room, all of your canvas and anything else your parents deemed invaluable enough to lose to your hobby turned career.
“Hey, you okay?” She asks when you don’t respond after several seconds.
You blink a few times before refocusing on her. You shrug, trying to appear nonchalant, “What? Yeah, just fine.”
Her brow furrows, and she steps closer reaching out to run her hand up and down your arm, “Are you sure?”
You give a smile that doesn’t touch your eyes and fish your phone out of your pocket, “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll go call Carmy.”
Before Sugar can respond you make your way to the front door and let yourself out. You’re met with the frigid Chicago air, the wind whipping at your cheeks. With your coat inside, the cold chills you to the bone but the feeling is welcome. It shocks your nervous system in a way that makes it easier to call Carmy. Your head is clear, and most of your focus is now on warming your fingers as you dial his number and start to pace.
Sugar was right– he doesn’t answer. It rings and rings and rings until you hear his voice for the first time in years. It's the same message that he’d set years ago: Hey, it's Carmy. Let it rip at the beep.
Many beats of silence pass before you realize that it's time for you to speak.
“Oh fuck, sorry. H-Hi, Carmen. It’s…it’s me. Nat and I just went through Mikey’s will and well…he left it to you. The Beef I mean, it’s yours. Sugar really needs you to come home to figure this out.”
You pause for a moment, wondering if you should say anything about yourself. About your friendship that he’s let crumble. About your heart that he’s ground into dust with each day that goes by with no contact. No that won’t do.
“Just come home and help your fucking sister. Please, Carmy,” You plead softly before hanging up.
You aren’t sure if that was a good enough attempt, but you don’t want to risk calling back and having to face him. Despite your worry, it does the trick.
—
You and Sugar are tucked in Mikey’s office, combing through records of unpaid pills and disorganized expense reports when it happens.
“Cousin!” Richie yells with just enough disbelief in his voice for you to know.
You and Sugar look at each other with wide eyes, hands frozen and full of stacks of paper. You can hear them clambering through the restaurant, making their way to you and you wish that some freak accident that denies the laws of physics would swallow you up.
To your dismay, It doesn’t.
Carmy and Richie round the corner, and you’re a goner like you’ve been all these years. Soft blue eyes that give the crystal skies a run for their money and a messy mop of ashy hair. It doesn’t matter that a man waits for you at home or how many times you’ve told yourself that you’re over Carmy. It never sticks, you don’t know why you thought it would. You were hoping that he’d hurt you enough for it to fade.
Carmy stops in his tracks at the sight of you, throwing Richie a look that clearly says “you couldn’t have warned me”. You aren’t sure how to interpret it– was he excited to see you? Upset?
He stuffs his hands into his pockets nervously and leans against the door frame. “Hi. Hey,” He means to say it to you and Sugar, but his eyes don’t leave your face.
“Hey,” You squeak, cheeks heating in embarrassment. You clear your throat and try again. “Hi, Carmen.”
“Hey, Bear,” Sugar waves her hand playfully as if she’s trying to get his attention, and his eyes finally flit over to her.
He smiles, one that you know is genuine despite that lack of teeth. His eyes drop to the ground and he nods a few times before glancing to Natalie again. “So he left it to me,” He says lamely.
“Yeah, Carmy, he left it to you,” Sugar repeats his words, frustrated not only with Carmy for his late arrival or for his lack of appearance at his own brother’s funeral but for this entire situation.
None of them should be here trying to figure this out. Mikey should be in this kitchen with Richie, she should be at home thinking about what she and Pete for dinner. And though this finally brought you and Carmy home, she wishes that things were the way they were just a few short weeks ago. She wants Mikey alive.
“Guess that means I should open it.”
Richie gives out a shout before clapping Carmy on the shoulder, “See now I like the sound of that, cousin.”
Carmy flinches under Richie’s touch, hoping no one will notice. It's not something he wants to talk about or even think about. He can feel your eyes on him and quickly makes up an excuse to put some space between the two of you. “I’m gonna go check out the stock in the fridge. It— uh, good to see you, Bee.”
You nod awkwardly, though those simple words make your heart race, “You too, Carmy.”
Richie doesn’t follow after him, stepping into the office and crossing his arms. The three of you sit there in a silence that screams he has something to say.
“Just say it, Richie. Fuck’s sake,” Sugar finally says, rubbing her temples.
Your brow furrows as your head whips from side to side to look between them. “Say what?”
“You know he’ll notice, right?” Richie asks you, leaning back against the desk.
“Notice what?”
Richie looks at Sugar expectantly, and she sighs, rubbing at her temples again. She fixes you with a look that is as sympathetic as it is accusatory, “That you don’t call him Bear anymore.”
| > chapter 2: Back in the Beef
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#carmy berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto x fem!reader#carmy x reader#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto fanfiction#carmy berzatto fic#carmy berzatto angst#the bear fanfiction#not sfw#arson writes the bear#the bee and the bear
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Chapter Twelve of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is up!!! It's the moment you've all waited for-- the reveal. :000 They boys discover some things about themselves (things they once knew) and visit an unfamiliar place (a place that was once familiar.) Read it on ao3 or below the cut!
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The group’s shocked silence lasted for two, maybe three seconds before it quickly morphed into chaos.
“That’s him! That’s the goat!” Mikey shrieked, pointing wildly. “That’s the goat who has Dad!”
“Leo! Call 911!” Raph commanded. Leo scoffed loudly.
“No way! I wanna kick this guy’s ass. Make Donnie do it.”
“What?! No fair! I’ve called 911 the last six times! It’s someone else’s turn!”
“You have not! I called 911 last time!” April protested.
“That one doesn’t count!”
“Well someone’s gotta--”
“Enough!” Goatman snarled, absolutely bristling, waving his arm sharply. The air around them suddenly felt colder and stiller, and Leo shuddered, gritting his teeth as his posture stiffened. “I am not here to listen to your silly arguments. I am here to bring you home, so you can finally fulfill your purpose.”
Leo gave a short snort of laughter. “Hm, yeah, tempting, but our Daddy actually taught us not to go with creepy sheep strangers, even if they offer us free candy, soooo…”
“What?! Candy? No! I’m talking about your purpose! The reason you were created-- to eliminate the human threat! Come with me, and I can unlock your full potential!”
“How many divine purposes have we got again? ‘Cause I’m starting to lose track,” Mikey complained. Leo rolled his eyes.
“Eliminate the human threat? Yeah, uh, maybe you haven't been paying attention, but in case you haven’t noticed, we’re literally humans.”
The yokai paused for a moment. His face twisted, and he hunched his shoulders back before he gave a forced laugh. “Humans?” He echoed. “Humans?! Surely you aren’t fooled by those silly trinkets! You can’t possibly, actually believe…”
“Oh my god. This guy is, like, for real crazy,” April observed, raising her brows.
“No, you are fools!” He hissed in return. “Humans?! These ridiculous forms are completely fabricated! These are not your true selves! You are experiments! You are soldiers! You’re mutated turtles-- my greatest creations! The creations of Baron Draxum!”
“Baron Draxum? Okay, well, we’ll deal with him when he gets here… Oh… Oh-ho-ho wait! You’re doing that, like, sinister talking-about-yourself-in-third person thing, aren’t you! Oh my god, that’s rich!” Leo snorted.
“Hey! Only Raph can use the third-person!”
“I’m sorry, did he say turtles?” Mikey questioned.
“Oh my fucking god…” Leo laughed, clutching his stomach. “Turtles? I’m sorry, we’re mutant turtles?”
“This guy can’t be serious,” Raph muttered.
“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure we would have noticed by now if we were reptiles,” Donnie scoffed, one hand on his hip. “Let alone subjects of some kind of biochemical experiments. Which I am intimately familiar with, by the way. Do you have any idea how many community gardens I’ve been banned from?”
“This can’t…” The yokai shook his head, a hand on his brow. “How could you be tricked by such simple magic? I will show you if I have to.”
“Oh, I’d love to see that,” Donnie muttered.
“Come with me--”
“You are out of your damn mind if you think we’re goin’ anywhere with you!” Raph cut in.
“Maybe if you prove that turtle hypothesis thing you have going on, we can discuss it from there,” Donnie laughed, one brow quirked, sounding caught somewhere between exasperated and amused. Honestly, this whole thing was a little bit fucking hilarious. It was also fucking horrible and scary because their dad was missing and a magic criminal had them cornered in an alley, but like. Seriously. Mutant turtles? You can’t make this stuff up, dude.
Draxum sighed very deeply, scowling at their group.
“Very well,” he said, and he snapped his fingers.
Things became unfunny very, very quickly.
If the air had become cold earlier, now it became startlingly hot, just for a moment, the alley rising up at least five degrees, and Leo heard this choked, startled gasp that he immediately recognized as his twin brother. At the same time, a blinding, almost familiar flash of white light overtook the alley, and Leo hissed, flinching away.
When he looked back, he was horrified to find that where his brother had been standing just a moment ago there was instead some sort of green, scaled creature, their eyes slitted and their skin leathery and bumped, and he thought, what the hell happened to my brother? And after a moment of silence, all of them staring in dazed shock, the reptile flailed, floundered, held its own hands up to its face as if to examine them, and promptly began screaming.
And Leo recognized his own brother's screams, so instead he was thinking: what the hell happened to my brother?!
“What did you do?!” Leo shrieked. Behind him, Mikey screamed, too, and he could hear April spluttering out an impressive string of curse words. He just barely resisted the urge to race over to Donnie’s side, to check if he was okay, (he’s not okay, he knows he’s not okay,) to try to help him, to fix it, because he couldn’t just turn his back on the enemy in front of them-- couldn’t ignore the very obvious threat.
“I simply removed the cloaking enchantment as he requested,” Draxum responded calmly. He even looked amused, almost, the very corners of his lips turning up.
“You what!? What the hell are you-- fix it!!! Turn him back!!!” Leo demanded, his voice rising with the very edges of panic, his pulse climbing ever-steadily higher the longer he listened to his siblings scream.
The other sighed deeply, tilting their head to the side. “Do you still not understand? Fine, then. I’ll show you as well.”
Snap.
Leo wouldn’t describe the experience as painful, but it really wasn’t pleasant, either. He swore he could feel his skin being stripped away and reforming; it was like his skeleton itself was being rearranged, his entire body becoming fluid for just a split second before solidifying again in new places, new patterns, new spaces. An unfamiliar weight pulled at his shoulders, forcing his spine to bend, and his hands and feet fell in a way that now felt unnatural to him. His skin seemed to lay over his muscles differently now.
He was vaguely aware of Mikey screaming somewhere behind him a second time, echoing Donatello’s continued wails.
“Guys?” April bit out, her voice high and frightened.
What the hell happened to him?
“What-- what did you do?” Leo repeated himself, his eyes wide, straining, because his vision was ever-so-slightly different than it had been a few seconds ago and he didn’t know how to adjust. He swore to god he was frozen in place. He wasn’t sure when he had ended up on his knees, but he was shaking so hard, he supposed he wasn’t surprised.
What the fuck happened to his body?
“Now are you convinced?” The yokai pressed. “Now, we will be going to my lab whether you want to or not. We can either do this the easy way or the hard way. I would highly recommend the easy way,” he hummed, giving a sharp sweep of his arms. Wind tugged at his back and Leo had just barely the presence of mind to glance behind him, his eyes widening in horror to see this huge expanse of black opening up behind him.
Mikey-- (Mikey? They were small, they were wearing Mikey’s clothes, it must be Mikey--) yelped loudly, the inky cloud yanking him from his feet. April jumped, attempting to grab her baby brother, though she only succeeded in falling into him-- both of them swallowed up into the portal. Raph gave a strangled howl of protest, diving right after them, and Donnie was sucked up as well, disappearing from Leo’s sight. His heart thudded wildly in his ears. He could feel the magick yanking at him, trying to pull him in as well.
But Leo had always been the fastest.
Every shred of him was screaming to follow, to chase after his family, to go with his sister and brothers, but he tensed his muscles, his stance widening and holding firm as he set his sights back on the yokai towering before him. A tiny voice in his head whispered in his ears that following wouldn’t help--
No, he had to move forward. This guy was the one hurting them.
Get him.
Leo wasn’t sure if he had leapt forward or if he simply was there. Everything was moving too quickly for even him to follow, the blinding white of panic and rage eating hungrily at the edges of his vision, threatening to overtake him. Either way, he lunged, a cry of protective fury wringing itself from his chest.
"Stay away from my brothers," he snarled, his own throat staggering painfully with the force with which he screamed out his warning, his hands flying forward to grab the yokai by his throat, slamming into him at full speed. He felt the alien velvet fuzz of Draxum’s skin beneath the tear of his fingernails (claws) even as the pair of them were flung from their feet. Gravity was stolen from them both, the portal behind them reaching out to consume them.
Everything went black. For just a second, tumbling through nothingness, floating through the sizzling rush of magick itself, Leo couldn’t see anything. He couldn’t hear anything, all he could feel was the body of the yokai against him, struggling against his grip, attempting to throw him away.
And then this bright, searing lavender light came singing through the world. It didn’t reflect or bounce; nothing was lit up by it. Leo still could not see himself, could not even find the outline of his own hands or fingers. But this brilliant, complex pattern of the palest, gentlest pastel purple lit up bright before him, swirling and twisting in foreign shapes, and Leo just barely recognized that the ribbon of runes they formed echoed the shape of the yokai he had just grabbed.
The body he was clinging to went limp.
The next second, the wind was knocked out of him as they made impact with stone, light coming streaming back into his universe. Leo found himself landing in a heap in their new location, the portal disappearing behind them. Oddly, however, the crash landing didn’t hurt near as much as he would have expected it to.
“Leo!” He heard Raph cry. Leo groaned, still dazed, looking around blearily. Where the hell were they? He glanced over at the yokai who he had yanked through the portal with them, only to find them in an awkward slump just a few paces away, completely limp and seemingly unconscious.
“Are you okay? What happened?” Raph demanded, moving quickly to his side. Mikey was already all bundled up in his arms, shaking like a leaf and absolutely clinging to him for dear life like he was going to fall apart if he let go. And Leo couldn’t even blame him if he did. Mikey had always been the smallest of them, and Raph always the biggest, but Leo thought dimly that the size difference between them now was fucking bananas.
Jesus christ. Raph was fucking huge. And… spiky. Was he a goddamn dinosaur? What the fuck.
“I-- yeah-- I-- I think the goatman got knocked out--” He stammered, still reeling slightly, trying to collect himself, to gather himself, adrenaline still rushing through his veins like it was a racetrack.
Somewhere in the background, Donnie fucking screamed, and Leo immediately forgot about everything else, his head whipping around.
“Donnie!” He cried, on his feet in a second, rushing over to his brother’s side. He had no idea where they were, not having yet taken stock of the location. He was only dimly aware that they were someplace cold and dark, with stone and concrete above, below, and around them. Donnie had pressed himself up against one of the walls, his entire body rigid and his head bent forward, his arms fluttering wildly beside his head in such a way that Leo recognized he was fighting not to hit himself. Good job, Dee. The screaming continued, but every wail that wrenched its way out of Donnie’s mouth was short and grinding, repeating itself over and over like an alarm. It was fucking terrifying. Not for him, but for Donnie, because he could tell that they were completely, totally not in control. Just panicking.
“Hey. Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m right here, Don. It’s alright. It’s okay, you’re safe, I’m right here, hermano,” he tried to soothe, forcing his voice down, calm, steady. He knew better than to touch Donnie, but he would reach over just long enough to tap a button on the side of his headphones that he knew would flip the device into white noise mode. Donnie jerked slightly in response, and the screaming stopped, at least, but he didn’t relax. His arms still fluttered and flapped anxiously, and he shifted just enough to begin rocking back and forth, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so hard that Leo was afraid he was going to hurt himself. His chest absolutely shook with the panicked, shuddering breaths he was taking, hyperventilating so hard that his entire body trembled in response.
“Come on, Donnie, it’s alright. It’s okay. We’re safe, Mikey and Raph and April are safe, we’re gonna be okay, but you’ve gotta breathe, dude. Can you try it with me? Like this? We’ve gotta calm down a little bit--” Leo pressed on because this was not his first rodeo. He wasn’t quite as adept at handling these things as their dad was, and at this point, Donnie was pretty good at avoiding meltdowns and panic attacks, armed with tools and tricks and years of therapy, but sometimes they were unavoidable and Leo had always known how to calm them down, always been able to step up and help, the same way Donnie could for him--
But Donnie wasn’t calming down. Donnie wouldn’t even look up at him. Rather, Donnie scrunched up harder, curled his lips, and fucking hissed at him.
And, okay, look, it wasn’t the first time Donnie had hissed at them. Donnie used to love to hiss at people when they were little kids, though nowadays he was more likely to express annoyance with declarations such as “groan” or “scoff” or “eye-roll.” But he didn’t hiss like this.
He sounded fucking feral. Even more than that, he sounded fucking terrified. He looked like a goddamn cornered animal, his eyes blown out and huge, the scaly skin that now made up his form stretched tight over shivering muscles and his lips drawn back over sharp, pointed teeth. And Leo looked down at his own clawed, three-fingered hand and came to a horrible realization.
He couldn’t help because Donnie couldn’t recognize him. They were panicking because they were in this crazy, fucked up body that wasn’t theirs, and Leo was in a fucked up body that wasn’t his, and looking at him was just a reminder of everything wrong. He was just scaring them more. His being here was just making things worse, and Leo’s throat tied itself in a knot, swelling up as the backs of his eyes pinched with the thought.
“April,” he called, his voice cracking slightly as he desperately turned to look for his sister. She wasn’t far off, watching from a short distance with obvious worry, and she blinked in surprise at the sound of her name.
“Help me.”
---
If Leo was being completely honest, he hadn’t even realized that Donnie wasn’t still nearby. The two of them typically stuck together like glue whenever they were at school. Leo would usually lead the way, and Donnie would trail after, with Leo doing most of the talking and socializing for both of them. And once Donnie got sick of whatever they were doing, he would simply drag Leo off to sit and read or work on some project or puzzle for a while, and Leo would oblige and keep him company. Donnie was always close by, and Leo wasn’t even aware that this wasn’t currently the case, too absorbed in his latest arts and crafts project, until he heard a telltale, high-pitched whine from across the room.
He was on his feet in seconds, abandoning the activity and his classmates to scuttle off in search of his twin brother. Luckily, he wasn’t too hard to find. Both because he was pretty loud, and also because their substitute teacher was crouched down next to him. She was nice enough, Leo thought, but not quite as cool as Miss Mitchelle was, and he wasn’t sure if Donnie liked her at all. It definitely didn’t seem like he liked her too much right now with how he was all balled up, and Leo wasted no time at all in planting himself physically between the two.
Donnie immediately gravitated towards his brother and Leo moved a bit closer in turn, giving Miss Substitute (he didn’t remember her name,) a very displeased look.
“He doesn’t like whatever you’re doing,” he declared firmly.
Miss Substitute’s expression twitched and faltered for a moment before it settled back into something patient and pleasant, though Leo still didn’t quite trust it. “Leo,” she said, “I was just trying to talk with your brother--”
“I can talk to him,” Leo assured immediately, not bothering to listen to the remainder of her sentence because he couldn’t imagine it would be all that important or interesting. He turned to face Donnie instead. “It’s okay. I can always understand him, ‘cause we have a secret twin language. We made it up. Only we can speak it,” he declared proudly, crouching down to lean in towards his brother, his arms wrapped around his knees.
Donnie was still whining a bit, curled up into a ball and shoved halfway inside of a cubby, his arms crossed protectively over his head as he rocked. And yeah, he was obviously upset, though Leo wasn’t completely sure why yet. As such, he got to work, conversing with his twin in the previously mentioned secret twin language.
… And.
Okay.
So.
They didn’t actually have a secret twin language.
But it was close enough! It wasn’t a language, per se, ‘cause it didn’t have words, just noises and chirps and trills and squeaks and babbles. But he still always got the gist of what Donnie was saying, and Donnie would get the gist of what he was saying, too, so it worked. Sooner or later, he could pretty much always get an understanding of what Donnie was meaning based on the inflection or tone of his noises, as well as calm the other down enough so that Leo could coax a couple of signs out of him, so Leo figured it was close enough to language.
Plus, the ‘language’ itself always seemed to kind of settle Donnie down when he was upset like this. Once Leo started humming and squeaking at him, Donnie gradually started to answer with his own chirps and clicks, and, little by little, Leo watched their twin’s body untense and unwind. Leo grinned, moving to sit properly by him, and Donnie moved closer, edging just a bit out of his hiding spot so he could shove himself up against Leo’s side instead, resting his head against his shoulder and settling in there, an indignant scowl still on his face.
Leo grinned, puffing out his chest a bit as he shot Miss Substitute a look. See? He told her so. He and Donnie always understood each other, no matter what, and he could always fix it when Donnie wasn’t feeling good! He was basically the best brother in the entire world. Confident that he understood the problem, he turned back to face Miss Substitute.
“He said you’re not doing the schedule right, and we’re supposed to do math right now,” he announced, crossing his arms over his chest. And he hadn���t even noticed, but Donnie was right, they did usually do math lessons during this part of the day-- not arts and crafts. “And also, he doesn’t like the paper fish we’re doing ‘cause the glue feels bad. So we gotta find something else to do,” he insisted. “‘Cause otherwise Donnie and I aren’t playing.”
Donnie nodded a tiny bit from behind him, and Leo beamed with pride. Understanding Donnie and calming him down wasn’t even that hard. He didn’t get why adults besides Dad had such a hard time with it sometimes. You really just had to listen to him.
---
It took a while for April to calm Donnie back down, (or at least get him as calm as they possibly could be in such circumstances,) but she managed after a bit, his panicked breaths eventually dying down into something a bit more even and steady. Thank god. Mikey thought dimly to himself that he had never seen Donnie freak out so bad, but... he supposed he couldn't really blame him.
He frowned a bit, looking down at his own, unfamiliar hands, and he curled up a bit more, his tail tucking in (oh my god, he had a tail,) as he clung to Raph's plastron (oh my god, Raph had a plastron.) And though it still held comfort, the fold of his biggest brother's arms, bundled up close and held there, this place that he had known his whole life... it suddenly felt foreign, too. Everything was hard and jagged and cold. And even worse-- it was unfamiliar.
He kept staring at his own hands because he couldn't stop himself, and it made his stomach wobble. He wondered bleakly what his own face looked like because he had no idea. He wouldn't even recognize himself in the mirror.
Now that Donnie had finally settled a bit, though he was still curled up and pressed just against April's side, just barely not touching but still squeezed up small against her, Leo finally got up to his feet-- only to immediately lose his balance, falling over onto his back with a loud clunk.
"Leo!" Raph's eyes widened, his muscles immediately bunching up, ready to jump up and go grab his brother. Mikey could tell that he was just barely resisting the urge to scoop up all three of them and bundle them up in his arms and just hang onto them for a while. He had been sitting here long enough for Mikey to notice how fast his heart was beating. Mikey’s was keeping pace. Leo kind of flailed for a second before he managed to redirect the momentum to roll over onto his side, getting himself back onto his hands and knees. A wry, strangled laugh forced its way out of him.
"Alright. Well. Pro tip: center of gravity is weird now," he remarked dryly, his voice strained. "But the good news is falling doesn't even hurt anymore! So that’s great!"
It didn't get a laugh out of anyone. After a moment of hesitation, Mikey slowly wriggled his way from Raph's grip, making his way over to Leo's side. He didn't dare try to walk after watching Leo's attempt, noting that it seemed to be more difficult now without the rush of adrenaline to aid them, so he instead stayed in a crouch, sort of half-hopping-half-crawling over. Raph followed shortly after in a similar manner.
"Can I see?" He questioned softly, and when Leo didn't deny him, he leaned over slightly, moving his hoodie (which was now a very awkward fit,) out of the way enough so that he could examine the edges of his brother's new shell.
(Oh my god. His brother's shell. What kind of a sentence was that? What kind of weird, fucked up make-believe world were they suddenly in? Leo was his brother. He didn't have a shell. He had cool brown skin. He had bouncy blonde curls that Mikey had helped him bleach and dye a red streak in. He had vitiligo 'stripes' over his eyes. He had a bad habit of cycling through boyfriends and insomnia and a shockingly large vocabulary... but he didn't have a shell. He didn't have scales or stripes or claws or a tail.)
He looked anyway, running the tips of his fingers over the top of it, following the curve. He couldn't quite tell if he was feeling the texture of the shell, or just the texture of his own fingers, which were different than they had been; covered in scales, the skin thicker and rougher than it had been before. Bending his joints felt odd, and he couldn't help himself from doing it over and over, as if that might help him get used to it faster.
Every part of his brother’s shell was this cool, ocean blue, just edging on teal in some places, and Mikey thought to himself that, in the very least, it matched his life color perfectly.
He swallowed hard and resisted the tears that were building up in his eyes. He didn’t want to cry right now. He didn’t even know what he was crying about. Because he was scared? Because he was overwhelmed? He wasn’t very good at not crying, but he forced it down, his hands trembling a bit with the effort of it.
"Does it look the same as mine?" He heard himself asking, his eyes flickering over to meet Leo's (which were now not something he recognized, looking more animal than person, though they still retained the same, familiar almond shape. The color, however, he realized, was slightly different. Leo's eyes were brown. All of their eyes were brown, so dark that they were almost black, but now, instead, Leo's eyes were mismatched; one of them dark blue, like water in a cove, like the sea at night, and the other dark red, like ink with blood, like black cherries.)
"I dunno," Leo laughed, though his voice was still shaking. "I don't know what mine looks like."
"They're... kinda the same…" Raph observed from nearby, leaning over slightly to examine them both. His voice sounded kind of hollow, like he wasn’t really there. Sort of far-off. "I mean. The parts I can see. Mikey, yours is more... orangey. And bumpier," he said. "And yours is spotty. Leo's is kinda... stripey."
"Yours is huge," Leo observed with a chuckle, glancing over at their biggest brother, who was always the tallest and largest by a wide margin, but now absolutely dwarfed the rest of them. "And... spiky. You're all spiky. And… and fucking huge, dude. You look like you have fucking paws. And your mouth is all..." He laughed again, scrubbing anxiously at his face with his hands. "You look like a fucking snapping turtle."
Mikey paused a bit at that, glancing over at the other.
Donnie must have said or signed something that the rest of them didn’t catch, because April spoke up next, clearly addressing him. "Uhm, no, yours is... uh. It's kind of flat? And..." There was a pause. "Oh, oh my god, it's, like, squishy!" She squealed, everyone else in the room jumping in response, before she tamped down the noise, biting her lip and getting a handle on her reaction. "Sorry! Sorry, I just. I just wasn't expecting that texture, that's all! It doesn't... feel like what I thought a shell would feel like, I guess."
"Are we different kinds of... turtles?" Mikey questioned, tilting his head to the side. He wanted to laugh at himself when he said turtles. I mean, seriously, turtles? Of all the creatures in the world, turtles? Why were they turtles?
"I guess we must be," Leo sighed, resting his chin on his knee. "We obviously look different."
Mikey frowned, and he thought that his lips might be trembling if he had proper lips anymore, but he wasn't sure if he did or if they could tremble or what that would feel like if they did. Okay, fine. Now there were a few tears.
"Does that mean we're not brothers?"
A beat of silence followed.
"We're not," Donnie said, and quite frankly, Mikey was surprised to hear him speaking. Small miracles? Kinda…?
"Yeah, we are. Don't be crazy," Raph immediately refuted, his brows (er... brows? Place where brows once were?) furrowing together, and Mikey was desperately relieved to see that the space in between still wrinkled into a crease the same way they always did. "Of course we're brothers."
"Evidently, we're not even the same species," Donnie hissed out bitterly, drawing himself up even closer, even smaller, into a little ball. "It's literally impossible."
"Come on, Dee--"
"We're not even human!" Donnie snapped, hunching up his shoulders. "We're not even people!"
"Hey, look, come on you guys," April tried to soothe, holding up her hands as if to calm the group. "It doesn't matter if you're turtles! It doesn't matter to me. I love you guys no matter what--"
"Oh, wow, what a comfort!" Donnie scoffed, and April bristled.
"Okay, look, I am trying to be helpful! I know that this fucking sucks but you do not need to take out your nasty attitude on me!"
Leo suddenly laughed-- loudly, painfully-- tilting his head back and letting his shoulders slump so he could stare up at the ceiling. "Oh my god. Jesus christ. We're not people," he bit out in between his barely restrained hysterics, squeezing his eyes shut. "We're freaks, dude!"
"Leo, c'mon."
"We're not even people!!!" He repeated. "Fuck. We never even had a chance, and we didn't even know it!... Oh my god, we’re such morons!!! Hahaha-- welp! This is it! Pack it in, boys, it’s all over!"
"Leo, chill. What are you even talkin’ about?"
"Did you know I was gonna go on T?" He questioned, turning around sharply, suddenly, to face Raph. "Me and Dad were talking about it. For, like, a while now. And I was gonna start T, finally. Do you know how much I wanted to do that? Do you know how long I've been waiting to get to do that?"
Raph frowned. "Leo... This doesn't mean--"
"How the fuck is that going to work now!?" He interrupted. "How is anything gonna work now? We're fucking! REPTILES! Raph!!!"
"I KNOW THAT!" Now Raph was yelling, too, and Mikey flinched a bit, hiccuping softly as he drew himself down, retreating slightly, halfway into his shell (oh my god, he can do that now?) "You think you're the only one who was lookin' forward to stuff? I was--" He cut himself off, breathing in deep and then letting it out slow, his jaw tensed.
"Look. I know this... sucks. But it's not gonna help to just throw in the towel right now and mourn shit that we don't even know is gone yet, alright? We'll... figure it out," he said. "We don’t even know what’s goin’ on, so let’s just… let's just try to figure it out first. Okay?"
Leo frowned. He looked down and to the side, tightening his hands into fists, but he didn't have any rebuttal. After a moment, he took a deep breath, pulling himself up to his feet for a second time. He tottered for a moment, his arms windmilling until he found his balance and this time he stayed on his feet. He looked around the room for a moment before his eyes fell on the limp form of Baron Draxum, still crumpled in a heap some odd paces away.
"What do we do with that guy?"
All of their eyes snapped over, as though they had all just remembered that he was there in the first place.
"Did you knock him out, dude?!" Raph questioned, his eyes widening slightly.
"No! I mean. I don't think so. Not exactly," Leo said. "It's, like-- he grabbed me and some sort of mystic-magic-whatever thing happened. He lit up with a bunch of symbols and he just... went down. I dunno what happened."
"Well," Raph said, sighing deeply before he pulled himself to his feet as well, doing a similar rock and wobble to Leo before he figured out the new balance he had to strike, correcting his own footing. His long tail swung back and forth behind him, assumedly on instinct, to help. "We dunno how long he's gonna stay down, so we oughta find a way out of here and put some distance between us and him ASAP. We already know where Dad is, anyway."
"Maybe we can figure out where we are," Donnie mumbled bleakly, pulling himself to his feet as well. He seemed to struggle much less than his brothers did, and Mikey noted that his back rounded less than theirs. April got up as well, sticking close to his side, but perhaps hovering a bit less now.
Mikey watched as his family rose up, one by one, finding their feet again. And something in his chest unwound and loosened again. A breath he hadn't realized he had been holding came tumbling out of him.
He didn't know his own face anymore. And he didn't recognize his brothers when he looked at them.
But they were still them. Already, Mikey was completely sure of it. And the change, while still terrifying, felt just a tiny bit less devastating.
He hadn’t lost them yet.
Bracing himself for the coming challenge, he rose up to his feet as well. The unfamiliar weight on his back was more than he had expected and attempted to drag him down, and he stumbled slightly, nearly toppling over onto his back the same way Leo had the first time-- but Raph grabbed his wrist before he could, pulling him forward and correcting him, and Mikey was relieved to find his center of gravity once more. Usually, he would complain about his big brother stepping in, preferring to do things on his own rather than being 'babied' by his older family members, but...
Right now, it was actually okay.
"Okay. Let's do this."
(They took about three steps before Raph yelped and tripped over his own tail.)
---
Though they had tied up the so-called "Baron Draxum" with whatever rope and other scrap they could find in this place, (the longer they were here, the more Donnie began to suspect it was a lab of some kind,) none of them were very confident that it would be able to hold him for very long, if at all, and so they all got to work trying to figure out an exit. But to call this place 'maze-like' was a bit of an understatement.
"This is the worst landmark ever," April hissed in frustration as they turned a corner, only to once again be met with a hog-tied yokai, face-down on the concrete. "We keep going in circles!"
"Okay, look," Donnie sighed. "I know we don't want to linger here any more than we have to, but let's look around a bit and see if there's anything useful lying around to get us out of here. Clearly just walking out isn't getting us anywhere."
There was a chorus of grunts and mumbles of agreement from the rest of his family, and the group slowly fanned out, beginning their search. It was dark here, wherever they were. The ground beneath his feet was cold, with him and his brothers having already ditched and stowed their sneakers and boots after realizing how awkward and painful it was to walk in them with their new wide, two-toed feet.
The space was wide and almost circular, with various tunnels branching off at different levels, all leading away to who-knew-where. Several desks and tables were scattered about the space, each surface covered in everything from charts to pipettes to oddly-shaped jars filled with oddly-colored substances. Donnie just barely resisted the urge to sit down and start working, or to begin snatching and pocketing things as he found them. Instead, he took a liberal amount of photographs of everything they found on his phone.
His impulse control could only get him so far, however, and his eyes narrowed as they fell across a small, purpley-pink gem that lay on the desk, suspended within a small glass case. This certainly looked interesting... Geology wasn't really a passion of his, but something about this just seemed... intriguing. He couldn't quite place it...
Surely no one would miss this, right? It was small! It would be silly not to take it, quite frankly, and he slipped it into his pocket as quietly as he could when he was sure no one else was looking.
Now, if only he could find some blueprints of the tunnels... But that would be too easy, wouldn't it?
"So," Mikey said after a minute or so of them searching, and Donnie sighed internally. Of course, they couldn't expect him to stay quiet for that long. "If Raph is a snapping turtle, and me and Leo are turtle-turtles, then what kind of a turtle is Donnie?"
Donnie rolled his eyes, scowling. "Okay, well, first of all, do we really have to discuss this?" He hissed, immediately bristling. "I’d highly prefer we not address the proverbial elephant in the room, thank you! Second of all, 'turtle-turtle' is not a species."
"Yeah, but, like, we have turtle shells!" Mikey explained. "But April said yours is squishy. So what does that make you?"
Donnie sighed deeply. Talking about this made his skin itch.
"A softshell turtle, I suppose."
"A softshell?" Leo questioned, raising a brow. "That's a thing?"
"Yes."
"How do you know that off the top of your head?" Raph questioned.
"Some of us actually paid attention during biology classes," he responded dryly. And having a near-photographic memory did, admittedly, help as well…
"Whoa!" Mikey absolutely beamed. "That's so cool! Now we just gotta figure out what kind of turtles me and Leo are!"
"Well, I'd look it up if we had any service. And also if it was even close to being an appropriate time for us to waste our efforts on something like that," Donnie said with a roll of his eyes. He knew that Mikey was just distracting himself, finding a silver lining so he didn’t break down, but Donnie didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to think about how much of their entire lives was completely fabricated, about how--
He snorted, suddenly doubling over with laughter.
"What?" April questioned, raising a brow.
"I just-- I just realized!" Donnie laughed. "Our... our moms must be turtles! Fucking turtles!"
There was a beat of silence as this sunk in before Raph gave a similar reaction. "Damn! I guess you're right, huh?"
"Do you have any idea how much time I wasted in therapy talking about this?" Donnie squeaked out through giggles. "I spent so much time with Mossy talking about our mom and how she didn't want us or whatever the fuck and about the stuff she did to Dad and how I couldn't remember her, and she-- she was never even real! None of that ever even happened! She was just a fucking turtle, wasn't she!? We don’t even have a real mom!"
"Whoa! Mind... blown. I didn't even think about that..." Mikey gaped, his eyes wide. "This whole time I just assumed that our mom was probably the hotel lady..."
"Yeah, me too," Leo agreed.
Donnie blinked.
"You what?"
"Well, you know, that woman that Dad was datin’ right before he disappeared," Raph said. "And she runs the Grand Nexus Hotel, right? All the articles I ever read always mentioned her."
Donnie's eyes twitched. "You thought she was our mother?" He questioned.
"Well, that's who Dad was datin’ last! And for a long time, too. It'd make sense, wouldn't it?" Raph defended.
"Yeah. You didn't think that?" Leo said.
"NO! Why would I think that?!" Donnie was laughing again.
Leo huffed in offense, crossing his arms over his chest. "I'm sorry, do you know something we don't?"
"Apparently!" Donnie exclaimed. "Guys, you've seen pictures of her, right?!"
"Well, yeah?" Mikey tilted his head to the side.
"She's pale as fuck!"
"So?"
"And our Dad is Japanese!"
"And? Donnie, what's your point?"
"We're black!"
"... Ooooohhhhh," all three of his brothers said, nearly in unison, after Donnie's argument finally sunk in.
"Oh my god," Donnie laughed, covering his face with his hands, scrubbing tears from his eyes. "You're all so fucking dumb..."
"I guess our mom would have had to be black. I mean. We got the Japanese half from Dad, but... I never really thought about where the other half came from..." Raph admitted, his mouth still slightly agape like he was still rolling the thought about in his head.
"Wait a minute," April said, her hands on her hips. "I mean, yeah, all that makes sense, but if you guys have secretly been turtles this whole time, then why are you black?"
"Dude, are all turtles black?" Mikey questioned, his eyes widening.
"I cannot discuss this any further. I'll get a migraine and furthermore cease to function, as I am, and I cannot stress this enough, just barely suppressing the gravity of this whole situation right now," Donnie sighed, gesturing to himself as he turned back to the desk in front of him. "Did anyone find anything yet?"
"Not yet," April sighed, shuffling through some papers. "What even is all this junk?"
"I'm not sure. Some sort of research, it seems like..." Donnie mused, sort of thumbing through a book as he spoke, reading key phrases and chunks of text as quickly as he could and making mental notes so he could refer back to it later. He was more than happy to have something else to focus on, though this would admittedly be a lot easier with human hands. "But I'm still not sure where--"
Shhhh shhhh.
Donnie paused mid-sentence, his brows furrowed. He hadn't noticed that sound before now. He tilted his head a bit to the side, turning in its direction, trying to zero in.
"... Donnie?"
"What's that noise?" He questioned aloud, though his voice was barely above a whisper.
Shhhh shhhhh.
He knew that noise. He recognized it. Where had he heard it before?
Shhhh shhhhh.
... Water, he realized with a start. The noise was running water. Of course. How had he never realized this before?...
That's what he was hearing. That's what he had heard.
"Dee? You good?"
"Guys," he said, turning just enough to glance over in their direction. His face suddenly felt like glass. It was odd. "I think... I think we're in the sewer," he said. "... And I think we've been here before...?"
Before anyone could say anything further, a new noise filled up the space.
Skrrrtttccchhhhh.
---
"What was that?!" Mikey shrieked, immediately leaping behind his biggest brother to hide. Leo and Donnie were instantly gravitating to each other as well, falling into stance on instinct as they stood back to back, each covering the other.
"It sounds like something scratching," April said thoughtfully, and true to her word, the same skritching noise clawed its way through the air a moment later, echoing slightly against the walls. "I think it's coming from over here!"
"April!" Raph hissed off a protest as she took off, heading in the direction of the sound. "We don't know what that is!"
"We will if we go look!" She chirped in reply. I mean, come on, what was the benefit of hiding over here instead of investigating? Weren't they curious either way? Besides, they were stuck here regardless-- maybe they'd find something helpful.
The noise continued as April searched, peering around corners and down tunnels, until, finally, she found her prize. Tucked inside one of the off-shoot tunnels, one of the many dead-ends that seemed to surround this space, was a proverbial treasure trove. A variety of odds and ends filled the space; various amulets and scrolls and chests and even weapons were leaned up against the wall or stacked up on the ground. In fact, a lot of weapons were in here. Was this some kind of a weird armory? Or a trophy room? What kind of sewer has a trophy room?
But most interestingly, she found the source of the noise. Inside a small, dimly lit orb, looking as though it were made of some sort of glass, or perhaps even light, was one of the oddest creatures April had ever seen, clawing sadly at the surface of its prison. It had ears like a chihuahua, pointed and too big for its head, with tufts of fur poofing out from inside, but huge eyes like some kind of a cat. Pointed tusks stuck from its mouth like a boar, but soft, downy yellow-and-blue fur covered its entire, squirrel-like body, complete with a fluffy, wriggly tail.
"AW, you guyyssss!" She called out. "Come look! It's cute!"
"April!" The guys were right behind her, with Raph leading the charge. "You can't just run off like-- jumpin' jack flash! What the heck is that thing?!"
"I dunno!" April said with a shrug, immediately making her way into the room, scooping up the orb so she could examine it, looking for a way to open it up. The little critter inside pattered about excitedly, its claws clicking against the smooth surface. "Help me figure out how to get him outta here."
"Are you sure about that?" Leo questioned. "No offense, but we have nooo idea what that thing is! Maybe it's, I dunno, locked up for a reason?"
"What? C'mon, guys, we've gotta help!" Mikey protested, turning on them with big, pleading eyes. Nice, April thought, with Mikey on her side she had basically already won. Suck it, middle children. "Plus, he was locked up by Draxum. So he can't be bad!"
"Yeah! Ever heard ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’" April added in.
"I'm not convinced," Donnie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "I mean, has anyone else noticed that pretty much everything else in this room is a weapon of some kind? Isn't that maybe a bit telling?"
"Aw, come on, Dee. Look at this face!" April insisted, holding up the orb to the others. The creature, to their credit, played their part, pulling an absolutely pitiful face which Mikey immediately echoed, turning to his brothers with watery eyes.
Checkmate.
"Okay, okay, fine. Look, there's gotta be something in here that can help us bust him out..." Leo muttered, beginning to pick his way through the contents of the room with Raph, Donnie, and Mikey following suit shortly after.
"Here, what about these?" Leo said after a moment, turning to face them with a pair of twin katanas in hand. "Think I could slice that bad boy open with these guys?"
April scoffed, clutching the orb close to her chest. "Uhm, and this guy in half, maybe!" She protested. "Can we try something a little less deadly, please?"
"Aw, come on! These are cool," Leo protested, grinning as he twirled them in his hands with a metallic shwing.
"You just like them because you always win at any swordsmanship event at tournaments," Donnie remarked dryly, grabbing a long wooden staff to hold in his hands, testing the weight of it. "... That being said, should we maybe grab some of these just in case?"
"Whaddya mean?" Raph glanced over at the other.
"Well, we haven't even made it to the Hidden City yet, and we've already been attacked once," Donnie reasoned, placing a hand on his hip and frowning. "So it wouldn't exactly be a bad idea to have some weapons on hand in case of an emergency." He spun the bo staff in his hands appraisingly a few times. "I mean, obviously this is a bit underwhelming, but I'm sure I could make some improvements once we got back home..."
"Sounds like a good plan to me! Look at all the stuff they’ve got!” Mikey cheered, immediately diving in, beginning to sort through all the various options they had in the room. He chuckled darkly, swinging a pair of nun-chucks in his hands. “These’ll do…”
“Yo, guys!” Raph called, waving to get his brothers’ attention before pointing to the very far corner of the room. “If we’re gonna take stuff, why don’t we take the glowy ones?”
There was, in fact, a weapons rack filled with floating, vaguely glowing weapons, tucked away in the shadows, which only made the glow all that much more tempting. They were simply begging to be taken.
Mikey and Leo, almost in unison, gasped, their faces absolutely lighting up as they raced over to join Raph. “Ooh, dibs on the sword!” Leo cheered, immediately snatching up the odachi and repeatedly striking poses.
“Hot soup! Check me out!” Mikey snatched up a bright orange kusari-fundo, absolutely beaming ear-to-ear. Raph was nearly drooling as he laid his claim on a pair of tonfas, beaming as he gave a few experimental swings.
“They’re perfect! No one’ll mess with us now!”
“What about you, Donnie?” April questioned, tilting her head back to glance at the remaining brother. “Don’t you want a glowy weapon?”
“And add yet another unknown, uncontrolled variable to our current situation? I’m good,” Donnie scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’ve trained with a regular, wooden bo staff. I’ll fight with a wooden bo staff, thank you very much. You all have fun with your likely-radioactive weaponry,” he said, waving them off.
“Here, April, I got something for you, too,” Mikey chirped excitedly, scampering over to present his find to her. “Ta-da!!! Baseball bat!”
It wasn’t a baseball bat-- it was a club. But close enough! April gasped in delight. “It’s perfect!” She enthused, immediately snatching it up, rolling it around in her hands and tapping it against the side of her shoe a few times. Ooh, and the weight was perfect, too. “And I think it can help us get little guy out of this ball thingie, too! Leo, come hold it still for me!”
"Aw man, why do I gotta hold it?" Leo muttered in complaint but did as he was told regardless, kneeling down to hold the orb steady, taking care in the placement of his hands to minimize the chances of broken fingers.
"Alright," April said, backing up a bit, her tongue sticking out from between her lips with focus. "This won't hurt a bit..."
She swung the club back, taking care to temper her strength, and brought it down on the little ball prison with a satisfying crunch.
"Did it work?" Mikey gasped, his eyes wide as he leaned over. The orb was not shattered nor laying in pieces; but the side of it had caved in considerably, a spiderweb of cracks blossoming from it, and a second later, it simply dissolved as if it had never been there in the first place. The creature that had previously been trapped inside cracked one eye open, having squeezed itself into the very back of its cage, flinching at the oncoming impact, gave an absolute trill of excitement, darting about in celebration.
"There we go!" April said, grinning wide, her hands planted on her hips. "See, told ya I'd get you outta there! That's better, right?"
The little yellow beast threw itself into her lap, wriggling with joy and nuzzling at her with an enthusiastic wag of its tail. "Okay, okay! You're welcome!" April laughed, giggling as she allowed the creature to clamber about in her arms, allowing it time to bounce about before it finally began to settle again.
"Any chance you know how to get out of here, little guy?"
---
Raph looked up from his phone and his tea at the sound of mail plopping down on the table, glancing over to examine the letters his father had just tossed over in his direction.
"For you," Dad remarked, sorting through the remaining mail from the day.
"For me?" Raph echoed, his brows rising up. "Who the heck is sending me mail?" Curiosity took hold immediately, and he abandoned the wrestling video he had been watching previously in favor of tearing open the letters on the table.
He was surprised to find college brochures inside. His father, however, did not seem all that surprised at all, even adding a couple more to the pile.
"It seems you are in high demand," Dad teased, smiling the tiniest bit. "I have received a few emails as well from recruiters recently."
Raph paused for a moment, rolling this idea about in his brain, trying to figure out what it meant and what it tasted like before he forced a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
"Guess they haven't seen my grades yet," he joked weakly. Dad hummed softly, pulling up a chair so he could sit down next to his eldest son.
"Nonsense," he scoffed. "Your grades are fine, Raphael. You've simply tricked yourself into thinking they're not by comparing yourself to others," he added, giving the other a knowing look. "And besides that, this is hardly the only thing that matters. I have told you many times that grades aren't everything. My grades in high school were terrible!" He remarked with a laugh. "And your career in sports is very impressive."
"I guess," Raph said, wrinkling his nose up a bit as he leaned over the table. Easy for him to say. He had a hard time wrapping his head around the idea of colleges being interested in him when his three younger brothers were right here in the same damn house! Had they really meant to send these to Hamato Raphael?
Dad's hand moved to rub little circles into his back, and he nudged his son's teacup a bit. Raph agreeably took a sip, allowing the warm liquid to trickle down through his chest.
"I know you have not always enjoyed schoolwork, Raphael," Dad finally spoke again. "But you are not stupid. You may very well have the most common sense of any of my children!" He chuckled. "And you have many talents besides that. You are a remarkable athlete, and I know I do not have to drag you over to the trophy wall to prove this to you, but I will if I have to. You are only sixteen and you are already the captain of multiple sports teams... not just anyone could handle that! It is difficult to lead a team. But you have always handled this with grace. And teaching children! That is a talent in and of itself. That is no easy task. Trust me, I know," he said, smiling slightly. "But you are doing so well with your new job. And I am very proud of you."
Raphael glanced over at his father, for just a moment, hesitating like he wanted to say something, but then biting it back.
"You don't have to go to college if you don't want to," Dad added. "If you decide that is not the path for you, that is fine. I won't be upset or disappointed. I did not go to college, either! But I would hate for you to not even consider it just because you don't think you're good enough for it," he pressed. "I know you've always said you intend to pursue a career in sports of some kind, but this is very much an avenue to achieve that if you'd like. Many professional athletes get their start through college sports, you know. And I can already name half a dozen universities off the top of my head who would be thrilled to have you on their team in a couple of years!"
He sighed softly.
"But you do not have to decide right now, my son. There is still plenty of time for you to consider all of your options."
Raph glanced over at his father, shifting a bit in his seat, before looking to the side.
"Uh. I dunno, Pops. I mean. I'm not good at tests and all that junk. I mean. College football could be good 'n all, but, uh..."
He hesitated a second, sort of scratching the side of his jaw, hesitating a bit. "I dunno. Maybe I could... I mean. We could look at it, at least. I was kind of wonderin’ about, uh. I dunno… Just, lately, I was thinkin' about... studyin' early childhood education, maybe?..."
[ next ]
#sorrywhatnowau#sorrywhatnowau fic#rottmnt#rottmnt fanfic#rise of the tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt au#rottmnt human au#tmnt
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Happy 2 years of mikeywayarchive!! 🎉 looking forward to a VERY exciting year ahead!
And since 2024 is almost over, here’s a look back at some favorite moments:
January 13th: Mikey joins Thirty Seconds to Mars on stage for their songs “Attack” “Stuck” and “The Kill (Bury Me)” at iHeartRadio ALTer Ego 2024 in Anaheim, CA
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March 2nd: Mikey celebrates his 10 years of sobriety with an Instagram post
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June 24th: Mikey writes a story for TMNT: Black, White & Green #2
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July 25th & 27th: Mikey holds 2 signings at SDCC 2024, the first for TMNT and the second to announce a new comic miniseries “Christmas 365” co-written with Jon Rivera and published by Dark Horse Comics
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August 1st & September 11th: Mikey posts IG stories from MCR WWWY rehearsals in LA
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September 14th: MCR attend the Green Day & Smashing Pumpkins concert at SoFi Stadium in LA
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October 19th & 20th: MCR headline both nights of WWWY Fest 2024 and play The Black Parade in full for the first time since 2007
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November 11th, 12th, & 15th: MCR tease & then announce the 2025 “Long Live” The Black Parade North American Stadium Tour and tickets go on sale
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November 22nd: Mikey attends the L.S. Dunes & Rise Against show at The Sound in Del Mar, CA
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December 4th & 7th: Christmas 365 #1 is released and Mikey holds an in-store signing with Jon Rivera at Revenge Of in LA
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Whether you’ve been following for a while or you just came across this blog today, thank you! It has truly been a joy for me to run for the past 2 years and I can’t wait to keep it going in 2025! <3
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“ make me ” || tokyo rev.
synopsis: you never tested his patience before, so it came to a surprise when his kitten decided to show her claws all of the sudden. unfortunately for you, this man had time today.
pairing: bonten x fem!reader
warnings: mature content ahead. MDI. vulgar language, mentions of degradation, oral (f&m receiving), name-calling (slut, whore, baby, darling, etc.), impact-play, pussy-slapping, voyeurism, humiliation, ani’s attempt at sex-noises for reader lol i think that’s all, feel free to let me know if i missed anything!
notes: y’all don’t even wanna know how long this junk took me LMAOOO. this is my attempt at rediscovering my inner whore to write smut, so be gentle with her :’) sanzu’s was most def the shortest this time, for some reason i couldn’t go ham on his compared to the others :/ but hope you enjoy them! ♡
First of all, let’s not get it twisted.
Just because he acts like a fucking ornament half the time doesn’t negate the fact he’s still a deadly-ass individual. MIKEY has a whole country in the palm of his hand, an army of men at his disposal, and connections so deep even the police can’t touch him. In shorter terms, he was not to be played with. Many people have tried and failed, never to be heard from again.
Except you, of course. His little lap bunny, his breath of fresh air in a room full of smoke, was the only one who tried him and walked away unscathed. Well, sort of.
“Y’know better than to talk to me like that, gorgeous. Now say you’re sorry, and I might tell Sanzu to make you cum.”
You could barely register Mikey’s low voice in your ear, struggling to hold it together as said gangster between your legs curled his tongue in a way that had you keening.
Mikey has you perched upon your very throne, bare ass pressed up against his throbbing dick confined in his slacks. A large, dark wet spot was prominent there as his grip around your inner thighs kept you spread, leaving you squirming and with no choice but to make a mess all over him, the floor, and Sanzu’s face. He ate you out like a man starved, nosing at your clit whilst steadily tongue-fucking you so good you nearly sobbed when Mikey made him stop.
“Nghshit baby, please…” you croaked, head thrown back against his shoulder as your hips mindlessly chased after Sanzu. Tears streamed down your face as your body shook due to the pent up frustration you so desperately needed to release, painfully aching as your pussy clenched around nothing.
Mikey remained silent as he gently licked a teardrop off your cheek, rutting his hips up into you when you turned to claim his mouth in a searing kiss. Everyone in the room watched with fervor, enthralled with the sight they’d probably never get to see again after today. With the kind of noises you were making, they’d definitely encourage you to crash their meetings more often.
Eventually, he broke the kiss too soon for your liking, a soft whine escaping you until it’s interrupted with a sharp yelp. He briefly let go of your thigh to land a mean swat on your cunt, his executives all collectively groaning in approval at the mere sound of how wet you were.
“Such a little pain slut…” Sanzu slurred, grinning sharply.
Mikey gave you another, then another. Each with a little more bite to it than the last. You cried out in delight after every impact, body convulsing as it tried to run from the intense feeling until the pink-haired gangster had to force you still so his boss could continue to ruin you.
“M-mhmahfuck! Manjiro♡!”
“Still waiting on my fucking apology.”
“I-Ah! I’m sorry! S-So sorry, baby, won’t do it again..!”
He hummed in approval of your obedience, rewarding you by gently rubbing your puffy clit with two fingers. You shakily exhaled in relief, despite Sanzu still holding you down, your hips had a mind of their own as they moved in tandem to Mikey’s rhythm. Small whimpers escaped you, increasing in pitch when he abruptly started flicking his wrist a little faster. Your thighs shook, body seizing up as that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach began to tighten once more; you could almost taste it.
“Mikey…s-s’close…”
Your back pressed snugly against his front, body squirming as you tried grinding back on him. Mikey let out a soft grunt, then huffed in mild annoyance before giving Sanzu a pointed look from over your shoulder—Keep her still.
With an excited giggle, Sanzu quickly wrapped his arms over the tops of your hips, locking you in where you could hardly move, and wasted no time diving his tongue back into your hole. Your back arched as you graced the room with a wanton cry, eyes damn-near rolling to the back of your skull as your tongue stuck out in straight up euphoria. Mikey stopped rubbing your clit to keep you held back against him, Sanzu tightening his hold around your hips, but his pace never faltered.
Sanzu worked you like he had bills to pay, even so much as picking up where his boss left off by rubbing quick, and deliberate circles on your tender little button. You gripped his hair like your life depended on it, pathetically grinding against his face as you chanted your boyfriend’s name to the heavens. Mikey’s hands directed their attention to your tits, molding them in his palms and tugging on your nipples to further overstimulate your senses. He really wasn’t making this any easier on you...
“Baby…wanna cum…p-promise ’ll be good…! Please-uhg! Please let me..!”
Mikey planted a sweet kiss right below your ear, then whispered into it; sending chills down your spine as dread followed right behind it. “What’s the rush, hm? Who the hell said I accepted your sorry-ass apology?”
Sanzu immediately pulled away the second he felt you flutter around his tongue, his wicked grin decorated with your slick growing as you let out such a delicious wail in protest. The entire room darkly chuckled at your expense, and it was then did you actually register there being an audience in the room…
“You interrupted our important meeting with your nonsense. Only fair you make it up to all of us, don’t you agree, gorgeous? Then, maybe I’ll consider forgiving you.”
Hope you got good health insurance because this man would most def rearrange your insides, leaving you bewildered and bedridden with no one to blame but yourself.
You didn’t really take into consideration just how strong this man was, high or sober, SANZU could easily fold anybody. Why you thought you’d be the exception, you had no idea. The moment you allowed those dangerous words to leave your pretty mouth during a heated spat, expecting him not to do a thing about it, you learned quickly that anybody meant anybody; especially misbehaving brats.
“Talk your shit now, fuckin’ slut. Wanna hear you say it, c’mon. What’s the matter? Dick too good, you can’t even think? Hmm? Thought you said it was wack…”
You didn’t know where to grab—The sheets, the pillows, the goddamn lamp?? It was all so much and yet not enough, you craved more but tried to run away from it at the same time. Sanzu railed you from behind, one hand roughly gripping your left asscheek while the other kept your head to the mattress, practically mounting you as he reached toe-curling depth.
To your dismay, he couldn’t have been more correct; dick was going crazy. Sanzu had no problem making you eat your words from earlier, coaxing your battered pussy towards orgasm number three as he began swiveling his hips. “Hah-ah! Haru, Haru I-I’m…uhg! s-shit I’m-”
Sanzu cackled, then immediately mocked you.
“Y-Youyouyou, spit it the fuck out, baby.”
Your face burned in humiliation, but your desire to cum was much stronger than your pride. “I’m sorry! D-didn’t…didntmeanit! I-I mmh! Won’t be bad a-again!”
Stopping for a second to flip you on your back, teary eyes met wild, cerulean ones as they practically singed right through you. You tried to avoid them at first, but Sanzu quickly shut that down. He lightly gripped your jaw, face so close to yours you had no choice back to look at him.
Sanzu panted heavily, cool breath fanning over your sweaty, tear-stricken face. His grin turned even more sinister when he felt you clench around him from the undivided attention. You wanted him so bad, but now you could barely handle looking him in the eye.
You were just something else. And, he wouldn’t want it any other way. Even if you did intentionally piss him off, speaking out the side of your neck with insults that you both knew weren’t even half true, ain’t nothing a good dicking down couldn’t fix.
“Glad to hear it…But this is far from over, pretty. Need to make sure you learned your lesson, so keep your eyes on me. Wanna be the last thing you see before I fuck you unconscious.”
Oh, word? You wanna play that game with him? Alright, bet. But, prepare to fucking lose.
He won’t take you seriously, will most likely see your words as entertainment rather than a challenge. You weren’t actually attempting to push his buttons right now, were you? How adorable.
RAN admired that you seemed to be dedicated to the whole performance, though. The flare, the passion, you even went above and beyond by chucking a few throw-pillows at him. He played along, of course, even let the last one hit him right in the face and acted appalled.
“[Gasp] How dare you hit me in the face? Have you no heart??” Or some dramatic shit like that.
Once you appeared to be finished, Ran had the audacity to give you a slow clap while wearing his signature grin. His low gaze looked upon you with mirth, completely enamored; as if you weren’t just calling him out of his name mere seconds ago. He knew this wasn’t how you normally behaved, so something else had to have been going on. And Ran only had to take one guess as to why you’d be showing out like this.
“You done? Jeez, if you wanted me t’fuck you like some cheap whore, all you had to do was ask, angel.”
Your bodily visibly stuttered.
“I…what?” Ran chuckled, and began loosening up his tie.
“You heard me. Honestly, I’m hurt you felt the need to do all of that just so I’d put you back in your place. That’s what all of this was about, right?”
He smoothly walked past you, and made way for the couch. Plopping down with all his weight, Ran exhaled a heavy sigh once he hit the plush cushions, and stretched out his limbs. His arms rested behind the couch whilst manspreading, to the point where the bulge in his pants was thickly obvious.
You stood there, gobsmacked and strangely…touched? For him to be able to read you so easily, without even needing a second thought or some sort of hint?? Honestly, so sexy of him.
Ran whistled at you, beckoning your attention back to his empty lap. With sleepy eyes so full of lust as they devoured you from his very spot, Ran patted his thigh to entice you further; you didn’t need to be told twice.
“Ohgod yes! Right t-there!”
With the vigor of a jockey, you rode Ran’s dick like it was your only life’s purpose, arms wrapped around him so tight it’s a miracle you weren’t borderline strangling him; but he didn’t mind. He found your desperation to be amusing, and it’s not like he wasn’t enjoying the hell out of himself, too.
His large hands held the globes of your ass, kneading and smacking at the flesh with earnest desire as he littered your neck with hickies to keep from making too many embarrassing noises. Ran allowed you to set the pace, only bucking upward when he felt he couldn’t control himself, or if he wanted to get a particular reaction out of you. When you started swirling your hips to spell his fucking name, man ‘bout busted right then and there.
He pulled back from your neck with a fervent groan, eyes fluttering as his grip on you tightened. Ran smugly grinned at your fucked out expression, juggling between watching your face or your tits as they bounced every time you came crashing back down.
“Goddamn, angel. If I knew…you needed it this bad…would’ve never gone t’work,” He said, breathlessly. It took a minute for his words to register, but once they did you pouted at him.
“…not ‘posed to c-call me that…”
Ran huffed out another laugh. “Oh, that’s right. Almost forgot, my bad.”
He rolled his hips up into you suddenly, bumping the special spot that made you clench up real nice. He repeatedly aimed for it, marveling in the cute, little noises you made. Ran’s hands roamed all over you, leaving behind warmth until it abruptly disappeared, taking refuge behind his head as he leaned back comfortably on the couch, stopping his movement altogether.
And just like a switch…Ran no longer looked amused.
“That means you won’t get to cum until you’ve earned it. Cheap whores don’t get special treatment. So make yourself fuckin’ useful before I get bored.”
Like a ticking time bomb, with a mullet.
RINDOU prided himself in being a very patient man. Well, more patient than most. His ability to mask even the tiniest emotion grew to be one of his greatest assets and your least favorite quality about him, especially when all you wanted was a reaction. Very little phased the gangster, needles to say, he had quite a high tolerance for bullshit. So, one could imagine how much effort it took to get under his skin.
But, he was still human, after all. Even Rindou could only handle so much bullshit until it eventually got to him, making him act out of character.
On one particular day, Rindou didn’t know what it was, but somehow the universe definitely had it out for him. Nothing seemed to be going his way, like he had been completely thrown off his rhythm. He stepped in dog shit on his way to work, burnt his tongue from his coffee, even spilled some on his new dress pants, and not to mention almost got fucking stabbed during a meeting with “potential investors” gone wrong. Sure, they missed by an inch, and instantly faced the repercussions, but still.
Was it too much to catch a single break? Apparently so.
Rindou figured winding down at some hole-in-the-wall joint after work would be a perfect way for him to loosen up. He also figured he’d bring you along as well; you always were his number one stress reliever. To his dismay, today you were anything but.
Not only did you show up with an attitude, you barely even acknowledged him, which completely threw him off guard. Normally, you’d jump in his lap and whine about how much you missed him, easing away that tension in his body with your honey-coated words and caresses. But now, it was like taking a shot of vinegar. You also had the nerve to entertain any loser who wanted to shoot their shot. Granted, all it took to scare them off was for them to see Rindou glaring hard as hell from across the room, but that was far from the issue.
“Babe, c’mon, don’t do this to me, I’m fucking tired-”
“Who...”
He raised a brow, “What? I said I’m-”
“…asked?”
He was exhausted. You were supposed to be his peace in all of the nonsense he had to deal with, and it didn’t help that you were dressed like a full course meal he couldn’t even enjoy. You had to be doing this on purpose…
Rindou watched as guy number four tried to spit game, his corny-ass giving the felon second-hand embarrassment; he had about enough. All he wanted was to get wasted with his girl in his lap, was that really too much to ask?
After downing the last of his drink and throwing the glass on the ground, shattering it, the younger Haitani practically bum-rushed you. Wasting no time in shoving a large hand in the random’s face, Rindou sent him flying backwards into the nearest table and landing with a resounding crash.
“Holy shit! Rin!” You jumped in surprise, about to give him more attitude no doubt, but didn’t have time to before your boyfriend effortlessly threw you over his shoulder, heading towards the nearest bathroom for some much needed privacy.
You wanted a reaction? You got it.
“Holyshit, R-Rin ♡!”
Your thigh lifted to rest on top of the sink, back arched like the one in St. Louis while Rindou put his all into blowing it out. With a tight grip in your hair and another around your waist, the gangster practically growled from the depths of his stomach as he took out all of today’s frustration on your poor, little bratty pussy.
“This what you wanted? Huh?” He panted. You could barely hold a thought together, let alone form an answer. He didn’t take too kindly to being ignored; you’d done that quite enough for one night. “Answer me, or I’ll fuckin’ stop.”
“Yesyes p-please, please don’t stop..!”
Rindou merely kissed his teeth in annoyance. Despite your best efforts in begging like a bitch in heat, it wasn’t enough to convince the man behind you to keep up his momentum. Slowly but steadily, he came to a stop, pulling out of your drooling cunt altogether to tease the tip around your outer lips. A broken whine escaped you, hips moving on their accord as they tried to slip him back in, but that only earned you a sharp tug on your hair.
“Mm! W-Wait no no, Rin please!”
Rindou snickered, leaning down to nip at your ear before hissing into it. “As if it’d be that easy. After all the shit you pulled tonight, you really think you deserve to cum?”
You whimpered. “B-Baby, please, I’m sorry-”
“Nah, too late for that sorry shit. I’ll stick it back in when I goddamn feel like it. And I think it’s time you learned a little patience.”
A cruel one, aren’t ya? Messing with such a sweetheart? But, y’know what they say about the ones who’re classy in the streets—Total freak in the sheets. Wouldn’t hurt to see just how far you could test the limit on that sweet side of KAKUCHO.
You weren’t supposed to be acting like those bastards he deals with on a daily basis, so harsh and quick to cut deep with words, lashing out at him over something so trivial—It just wasn’t you.
What happened to his darling princess, who welcomed him with warmth comparable to the sun? Where had his loving and caring partner gone? Your behavior was like thorns in his tender heart, filling him with confusion and sorrow. The two of you never argued like this before, having promised each other to be completely transparent in order to avoid misunderstandings.
“My love, please. If I’ve wronged you in some way just tell me, and I’ll fix it. This isn’t getting us anywhere, and I don’t wish to fight with you-”
“Oh, Christ, do I seriously need to spell it out for you? For someone who’s accomplished so much, it’s embarrassing to watch you struggle to understand so little.”
Kakucho’s expression resembled that of a kicked puppy from your snide comment. How could you not see how irrational you were being? The clock on the wall along with his bleeding heart were the only sounds he could focus on until… he noticed something else that was unusual.
Since this whole argument started, you’d been holding back a grin. Though you tried very hard to remain inconsolable, you failed miserably under his observant stare.
You thought…this was funny?
The ache in your wrists wasn’t anything you’d experienced before, his tie must’ve been made out of spider-silk or something because no matter how much you wiggled, the knot refused to budge. However, even if it did, the reoccurring swat to your ass halted any attempt at escaping.
Kakucho had you bent over, your skirt shoved all the way up your midriff to expose your pantyless bottom half to the seething man above you. With your hands bound behind your back, you had no choice but to let your head hang to the floor as he balanced you across his lap. The position rendered you dizzy, but the blood rushing to your head added on to the stinging pleasure he bestowed with every swing of his hand.
“Ah~ ♡!ohfuck Kakuch-oh!”
Another tasteful smack, this one harder than the last, but it burned so good. You were practically drooling, a delirious smile painted on your face with tears trickling down your cheeks. In your nether regions, the same could be said about your weeping cunt. Kakucho scoffed, giving your ass another smack, then letting his pinky and ring-finger slip in between your lips.
He groaned, deeply. You were soaked.
“Naughty little thing,” he prodded at your entrance, earning a soft moan from you. “Saying all those mean things, just so I’d get mean back, hmm?”
You wiggled your ass, impatiently. His long, thick fingers continued to play around outside where you needed him most. Kakucho was well aware, but refused to yield. After the stunt you pulled, you’d better be grateful you were even getting that much.
THWACK!
“Ahk!” You squeaked, that one catching you off guard. Kakucho clicked his tongue.
“Now you don’t wanna run your mouth? You had so much to say a minute ago, darling, don’t hold back on me now.”
You shivered, his voice sounding an octave lower than normal as he grew increasingly more impatient with you. This was a complete contrast to the Kakucho you were used to, the thrill of not knowing how far he’d go made you clench your thighs together. However, before you know it, you’re being lifted up and tossed upon your shared bed. Landing with a soft grunt and a bounce, you at first gave yourself a moment to orient your surroundings now that the blood no longer rushed to your head; that sudden movement didn’t help with your dizziness.
After a brief moment had passed, you then struggled to roll on your back to face the manhandler himself, but luckily he was nice enough to help.
By snatching your ankles, Kakucho yanked you down to the edge of the bed and sat you upwards. You winced, ass stinging like hell, but you quickly got over it once you realized the position he had you in. Noticing he unbuckled his pants, Kakucho stood before you at his full height, palming himself before gripping the base of his hard dick through his boxer briefs, as if he were threatening you with a concealed weapon; and he absolutely was.
You slowly looked up at him, meeting his dual-colored eyes. You gulped. There was nothing sweet about them.
“Don’t wanna talk? Fine. We’ll find other uses for that filthy mouth of yours.”
© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!
#🍁wasabi#tokyo rev#tokyorev#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev smut#tr smut#mikey#sanzu#ran#rindou#kakucho#bonten#bonten smut#tokyorev x reader#bonten x reader
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H(a)unted
(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @lavadragon365)
Fandom: Rise of the TMNT (Post movie)
Prompt: Halloween, the one night a year where the boys can go to the surface without hiding from humans.
Word Count: 1919
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The single greatest day of the year! Right next to the Lair Games, Thanksgiving, and his birthday. There’s nothing Mikey loves more than Halloween. But what makes Halloween so special?
Is it the spooks? Hell no. Mikey detests the idea of horror and blood, and pizza supreme forbid…ghosts. Is it the free candy? Mmmm… Mikey can have as much free candy as he wants with the power of his puppy dog eyes and the fact his brothers and he have been stealing for food to get their groceries. It’s much easier than you think.
So what is it?
The costumes. Or better yet, the lack thereof of needing one. This is the one time of the year that Mikey gets to walk the streets freely with his brothers and get to just…be. And Halloween is now just around the corner and Mikey just can’t wait to—
“We’re not going out this year.”, Donnie spat when Mikey strided into the kitchen and showed his brothers the layout they should take for trick-or-treating.
“What?!”, Mikey squawks. “What are you talking about, Dee?”
“Donnie’s right. It’s not safe, right now.”, Raph chimes in. “The invasion was only 2 months ago. Streets are still being prepared, everyone is still on edge, and not to mention that EPF guy is still after us. We gotta lay low.”
“But for how long?! We’ve been cooped up in the same smelly old subway lair for weeks and I can’t take it anymore, I think I’m gonna just explode from pure boredom!”, Mikey groans in annoyance. “Pretty sure I remember Donnie saying something about how box turtles hate captivity.”
“Hey, don’t twist science against me, Michael.”, Donnie points a finger.
“What if we wore disguises?”, Leo suggests. “I mean, everyone else is doing it. We can just hide in plain sight.”
“The whole point of this holiday is that we don’t have to!”, Mikey stomps his foot against the ground. “I’m tired of hiding! I just want to be me!”
The others are quiet. They look away, frowning in their own volitions. Raph sighs, putting his foot down.
“Sorry, Mikey. Maybe next year.”
Mikey balls his fists so tight that his knuckles turn white. He turns on his heel and storms out of the kitchen, hurrying back to his room before his brothers could see him start to cry.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The evening of Halloween arrives and Mikey’s so-shell feed is full of people out and about having fun. Meanwhile Mikey is stuck in his room, stuffing his face full of whatever last-minute Halloween candy bag was left at the store. It’s not fair. He wants to join the fun. But his brothers don’t want to go.
…
Wait, so why doesn’t Mikey just go by himself?
Shit, why didn’t Mikey think of that earlier? He can just head out, have his fun, get some candy, and come back as if nothing happened. Sure, his brothers will be mad that he snuck out, but once they see that everything’s fine, they’ll be the ones who are jealous that they didn’t get to go. Yeah, that’ll teach them.
So fuck it! Why not? Mikey springs out of the hammock, yanking the pillowcase off his pillow and heading out the door. Now he just needs to get out of here without anyone—
“Mikey?”
Mikey quickly bolts, using his ninja prowess to wall jump up and hide in the support beam on the ceiling. Talk about reflexes, huh? He spots Leo hurrying over to his room.
“Mikey, look, we’re sorry we can’t go out this year. I know you’re pretty bummed about it.”, Leo calls out as he peers into the room. “I-I was thinking we could watch a Halloween movie? Doesn’t have to be scary, we could binge some of those stop-motion ones you like. …Mikey?” Leo looks around the subway car before walking back out. He looks around once more before leaving from whence he came.
Phew, that was close. Mikey hops back down before scurrying off in the other direction. He makes his way through the sewer tunnel entrance, dashing through the waterfall before it could soak him. Then he heads up the abandoned subway stairs, towards the sounds of laughter and screams. And the streets…
The streets are beautiful.
Filled with people and creatures of all different shapes and sizes. A crowd flock down the street, cheering as they show off their creations. Little kids run around coated in blinking lights and glow sticks to help them find their way in the dark. Orange lights decorate the streets and balconies of apartments. A chilly autumn breeze shakes the withering colorful leaves on the trees as the smell of sweets flood Mikey’s senses. And just as he expected, no one bats an eye at the peculiar orange turtle. For he is right where he belongs.
“Hey, love the costume!”, a purple skeleton smiles with glowing yellow eyes and wearing a grim reaper outfit.
“Thanks! You look cool too!”, Mikey beams back.
“Just an FYI, the large candies are almost out. So you better get to it.”
“Got it! Thanks for the tip!”, Mikey nods as he heads off towards the richer neighborhoods.
Door after door, Mikey is met with smiling, welcoming faces instead of horrid and wary ones. Showered with compliments and pinching on the cheek from old ladies instead of avoided like the plague. His pillowcase begins to fill more and more, heavier and heavier. He hoists the bag over his shoulder like a candy Santa Claus as he makes his way to the next house. He spots a little girl up ahead wearing a dinosaur suit with a tutu, happily skipping down the block when a group of older teens on their bikes stop in front of her and yank her Halloween pumpkin bucket out of her hand. They dump the bucket in their backpacks before tossing the empty bucket at her head and biking away. Mikey scowls at the teens, inconspicuously getting out his nunchucks and whipping it at the bikes, causing them to crash and knock over.
Mikey rushes up to the now crying little girl. “Hey, dinosaur ballerina. What’s the matter?”, he asks softly with a smile. He reaches into his pillowcase and grabs a handful of his candy. “Here, you strike me as a Reese’s gal.”
The little girl wipes her tears. “I like the almond coconut ones.”
“You mean Almond Joy? Yuck! Who likes Almond Joy?”
“I do!”, the little girl pouts, crossing her arms.
“Well here, you can take mine. I’d be more than happy to get rid of them.”, Mikey obliges, picking out as many Almond Joys as he can find and dumping them into the girl’s bucket.
The little girl smiles as her bucket fills up as well as her heart. She lurches forward, latching Mikey’s leg in a hug. “Thank you, Mr. Turtle.”
Mikey smiles warmly, patting her head before the little girl takes off and waves goodbye.
And Mikey continues his hunt. Next house, then the next, then the next. The orange setting sun fades as the sky becomes coated in pitch black. House lights gradually begin to turn off. Children head back to their homes, tuckered out from the excitement. Now it’s just the older kids scraping what they can before the night is over. Mikey scrapes what he can as well. As luck would have it, his brothers would steal his candy out of pettiness. So he has to get extra.
He takes a scenic route back to the lair, giving him time to snag a few more pieces of candy. But up ahead he sees flashing red and blue lights. He looks up as sees a few costumed teens talking to the police. Of course, those teens probably got into some trouble. Mikey should probably steer clear of them, he thinks as he starts to cross the middle of the street.
“I mean yeah, we saw a few dinosaur costumes.”, one of the teens comments.
“No, no, turtle. Kind of looks like a human?”, a man’s voice presses. “Surely you spotted one?”
“Oh yeah, I did.”, another teen points out. “It looked sick. Almost like CGI.”
“Where?”
“I dunno.”
…Ohhh shit. They’re talking about him, aren’t they? Mikey peaks behind him at the police and spots one peculiar man among them. A tall man with pale skin, sleek black hair, wearing a tux with sunglasses (at night??). The one and only. John Bishop. Bishop has been after the turtles for a while ever since footage of them fighting the Kraang got leaked all over New York. Donnie tried to wipe as much data as he could, but even his hacker skills couldn’t outsmart the clever and cruel mastermind that is John Bishop.
The sunglasses tilt up. And Mikey knows he’s been caught. He drops the bag without a single hesitation before zipping into the alleys.
“Hey! HEY! THERE! STOP IT! GET THAT THING!”
Mikey runs as fast as he can, lashing out his nunchucks again and begins swinging up into the air to get some distance. He has to find somewhere to hide. And fast. Oh, he’s gonna be in so much trouble when this is over. Getting higher into the air, Mikey scopes his surroundings. It’s night, that gives him the advantage of hiding in the shadows. He just has to—
THWISH!
A net launches out at him, tethered to lead balls as they wrap around him and causes him to lose momentum. He shrieks as he hits the ground, thrashing about to try and escape before he hears people surrounding him. EPF soldiers all shouting orders as the exit points close in. He tries to move, tries to stand, but suddenly he is hit with electric shock. Then another. Then another. The soldiers are poking him with tased poles like poking a distressed girl confused for a witch with pitchforks. He shrills, for that’s all he can do.
Suddenly, there are flashes of light. Red, blue, and purple. There’s the sound of shouting. The rustle of someone scooping him up in large arms and carrying him out of there. Mikey tries to struggle free but his limbs are tangled up tight. A swish of a sword, and Mikey drops to the ground.
He gasps for air, panting. He blinks and finds himself on a tall building’s rooftop. And standing in front of him…were 3 very concerned older brothers.
“WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING?!”, Donnie starts. “DIDN'T WE TELL YOU NOT TO GO OUT TONIGHT? WASN’T IT CLEAR ENOUGH HOW DANGEROUS IT WAS? ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!?!”
“You scared us, Mikey!”, Raph gripes. “You can’t just take off like that without telling anyone! What if something bad happened?”
“Mikey…”, Leo hushes. “Are you okay?”
A hiccup. Then a sob. Mikey curls inwards on himself, profusely trying to wipe his tears that refused to stop. His brothers’ expressions softened, now all quickly crouching to the ground and surrounding him with so much worry it’s suffocating. Mikey’s lip trembles in fear and despair as he brings his wobbling vocal chords to speak.
“...i just wanted to be me…”
The older brothers shower the youngest with love and a comforting embrace as Mikey wails into the night sky. All Mikey ever wants is to be loved. To be able to walk down the street with his head held up high and plastron puffed out. Just like everyone else.
But even some of us don’t get to do that either. Do we?
---------------------------
How come all my Mikey's end up depressed? MLTS Mikey's ending was bitter, no sweet. GEM Mikey had issues tbh. FCAU Mikey...uhh no spoilers from me...
Hope you liked it, Lava! Don't blame me, blame the random number generator that selected you from the prompt spreadsheet. Now, ONTO THE NEXT VICTUM!
#tmnt write fight#rottmnt#tmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#teenage mutant ninja turtles#fanfic#writing#rip mikey's halloween candy
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Pazuribe Event Translation - “Decisive battle! Aquatic fight! ~Hanemiya Kazutora edition~” — Part 1
There's an aquatic festival going on! Kazutora asks the rest of them to join a fight inside a maze. Battle between Kazutora and Takemichi vs. Chifuyu and Baji. Click on Read More to find the translation!
─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────────────────
☆ Please give credit in case of use.
☆ I'll do my best to update the second part of the event once it's released on May 2nd!
☆ I'm not a professional translator and I'm still learning Japanese. That's why some things might not match exactly/could have been better translated/there might be mistakes. This is a great way for me to learn. I put a lot of effort into making the translation as good as they can be!
☆ Find more pazuribe translations here!
☆ If you have any comment, question, correction or suggestion, please let me know! (I'm still very new to translations, so anything is welcome! Please bare with me).
–Opening–
松野千冬:おぉ~!ここがアクアティックフェスか!
Chifuyu: Wooow~! So this is the aquatic festival!
花垣武道:水上スポーツ体験 海の生き物のふれあいコーナー・・・色々あるけどどこに行く?
Takemichi: Aquatic sports experience, sea creature petting corner… There’s so many things, but where do we go?
松野千冬:悩むなぁ・・・
Chifuyu: I can’t decide…
場地圭介:イルカショーまで結構時間あるし。
Baji: There’s plenty of time until the dolphin show.
場地圭介:好きなことから回ればいいんじゃねぇの?
Baji: Why don’t we go around from what we like?
松野千冬:場地さんは行きたいとこないんすか?
Chifuyu: Is there anywhere you want to go, Baji-san?
場地圭介:あぁ~ そうだな・・・
Baji: Aahhh~ Let’s see…
羽宮一虎:よぉ!行きたいとこねぇならココ一緒に行こうぜ!!
Kazutora: Yoo! If there’s nowhere you want to go, let’s go here together!!
場地圭介:うぉ!よんだ、一虎か
Baji: Woah! If it isn’t Kazutora.
羽宮一虎:マイキー達はフード食いに行くっていうしさ・・・
Kazutora: Mikey and the others went for food…
羽宮一虎:ココ!行こうぜ!巨大迷路!!
Kazutora: Here! Let’s go! To the huge maze!!
花垣武道:巨大迷路ですか?
Takemichi: A huge maze?
羽宮一虎:そうそう!迷路だけど対戦型ゲームになってるんだってよ。面白そうじゃね?
Kazutora: Mhh mhh! It’s a maze but it’s supposed to be a fighting game! Doesn’t it sound fun?
花垣武道:えーとなになに・・・「迷路を駆使しながら頭、肩、腰に紙風船をつけて水鉄砲で狙い合う2人1組の総当たりマッチです。」?
Takemichi: Eeeeh, let’s see, let’s see… “It’s a round-robin match where pairs of two have to aim with water gun pistols at each other to the paper balloons attached to their head, shoulders and hips while making full use of the maze”?
松野千冬:へぇ〜そういう感じなのか!面白そうすね
Chifuyu: Eeeeh~ So that’s how it feels! Looks fun.
羽宮一虎:だろだろ?な!一緒に行こうぜ!
Kazutora: Right, right? Then! Let’s go together!
松野千冬:どうしますか?場地さん
Chifuyu: What do we do? Baji-san.
場地圭介:いいんじゃね?行くとこ悩んでたし面白そうだしな
Baji: Isn’t it good? I’m troubled about where to go, but it looks interesting
羽宮一虎:よっしゃ!じゃあしゅっぱーつ!!
Kazutora: Woohoo! Then, let’s go!!
・・・
羽宮一虎:チームはこれで決まりか~ 場地と組みたかったな~
Kazutora: So these are the teams~ I wanted to go with Baji~
花垣武道:(一虎君とチーム・・・不安しかねぇ!!)
Takemichi: (Kazutora-kun and the team… I’m worried about them!!)
松野千冬:頑張りましょね!場地さん!!!
Chifuyu: Let’s do our best! Baji-san!!!
場地圭介:おー やるからにはぜってぇ勝つぞ!
Baji: Oh, if we’re gonna do it, we should win!
花垣武道:あ、そうそう 始まるみたいっすよ
Takemichi: Ah, I see, I see. Seems like it’s about to start.
羽宮一虎:!いいこと思いついた♪ 負けたチームは罰ゲームな!じゃ!負けねぇから~
Kazutora: ! I came up with something good ♪ There will be a punishment game for the losing team! Then! I’m not gonna lose~
花垣武道:え!待ってください!一虎君!!
Takemichi: Eh! Please wait! Kazutora-kun!!
場地圭介:お、おい!言い逃げしてんじゃねぇ!!
Baji: O, oi! Don’t run away without hearing what I have to say!!
松野千冬:オレたちも行きましょう!場地さん!
Chifuyu: Let’s get going too! Baji-san!
場地圭介:はぁ〜そうだな、行くぞ千冬!
Baji: Aahh~ That’s right, let’s go Chifuyu!
松野千冬:はい!!!
Chifuyu: Yes!!!
・・・
松野千冬:クソッ!場地さんと逸れちまった・・・!
Chifuyu: Shit! I lost sight of Baji-san…!
松野千冬:思ってたより迷路が複雑だな 早く場地さんと合流しねぇと!!
Chifuyu: The maze is more complex than I thought. I’ve got to join Baji-san quickly!!
???:ばーん!!
???: Paang!!
松野千冬:おわっ!!あぶね!!!
Chifuyu: Woaaah!! That was close!!!
羽宮一虎:相恋わらず反射神経やべーな千冬♪
Kazutora: Your reflexes are crazy as always Chifuyu ♪
松野千冬:一虎君こそ相恋わらず奇襲っすか
Chifuyu: Is it Kazutora-kun’s usual surprise attack?
羽宮一虎:サバゲーの時と同じだと思うなよ!?
Kazutora: Don’t you think it’s the same as when we play airsoft!?
松野千冬:それはこっちのセリフっすよ!!
Chifuyu: That’s my line!!
–After defeating Kazutora in Easy Level–
羽宮一虎:オラオラ!どうした千冬!そんなもんか!?
Kazutora: C’mon! What’s up, Chifuyu! Is that so!?
パァン!
Pang!
松野千冬:クソッ!
Chifuyu: Shit!
羽宮一虎:結構息上がってんなぁ?もう限界か?
Kazutora: You’re quite out of breath, aren’t ya? Already at your limit?
松野千冬:なめてもらっちゃ困るぜ 今から大逆転決めてやりますよ!
Chifuyu: Don’t underestimate me. I’m gonna make a big comeback from now on!
羽宮一虎:そうでなくっちゃなぁ!!
Kazutora: That’s the spirit!!
松野千冬:オラァ!!
Chifuyu: Damn you!!
パァン!
Pang!
羽宮一虎:おっと!
Kazutora: Whoops!
松野千冬:(一虎君の風船は1個潰せた・・・けど足場のせいか消耗がすごい)
Chifuyu: (I was able to smash one of Kazutora-kun’s balloons… but due to the scaffolding the waste was a lot)
羽宮一虎:1個潰されちゃったか・・・でもまだまだな!!
Kazutora: One of them was managed to be smashed… but it’s not over yet!
松野千冬:あぶね!!クソ・・・まけねぇぞ!!一虎君!!!
Chifuyu: That was close!! Damn… I ain’t losing!! Kazutora-kun!!!
羽宮一虎:やってみろや!!!
Kazutora: Go ahead and give it a shot!!!
–After defeating Kazutora in Middle Level–
羽宮一虎:イェーイ!オレの勝ち!
Kazutora: Yaaay! It’s my win!
松野千冬:クソッ!すみません・・・場地さん!!
Chifuyu: Shit! I’m sorry… Baji-san!!
羽宮一虎:でもギリギリで風船残り1個にされちまったな・・・
Kazutora: But I just barely got one balloon left…
羽宮一虎:場地さんが3個風船残ってたら流石に相手するのきちぃかも
Kazutora: If Baji-san has three balloons left, naturally he might be a dangerous opponent.
花垣武道:あ!!一虎君こんなところに!探しましたよ!!
Takemichi: Ah!! Kazutora-kun you are here! I’ve been looking for you!
羽宮一虎:おせぇよタケミチ~ ってオマエ2個も風船潰されてんじゃん
Kazutora: You’re running late, Takemichi~ Wait two of your balloons were smashed.
羽宮一虎:何してんだよ~
Kazutora: What are we gonna do~
花垣武道:え!一虎君も一緒じゃないすか!
Takemichi: Eh! Isn’t Kazutora-kun in the same situation!
羽宮一虎:オレは千冬相手にしてたんだから仕方ねぇだろ
Kazutora: I was dealing with Chifuyu so it couldn't be helped…
花垣武道:千冬相手にって・・・え!千冬風船全部潰れてじゃん
Takemichi: Dealing with Chifuyu… Eh! All of Chifuyu’s balloons were smashed.
松野千冬:うっせ!!
Chifuyu: Shut up!!
羽宮一虎:うし、場地探すか
Kazutora: Well, let’s find Baji.
花垣武道:今度は置いてかないでくださいよ!
Takemichi: Please don’t leave me behind this time!
羽宮一虎:着いてこれねぇのが悪りぃんじゃん?
Kazutora: Isn't it a bummer that you can't keep up with me?
花垣武道:うっ・・・
Takemichi: Ooof…
ピュン!パァン!
Pum! Pang!
花垣武道:え・・・?あ!!!風船潰された!
Takemichi: Eh… AH!!! The balloon got smashed!
羽宮一虎:そこか!!
Kazutora: From there!!
場地圭介:おっと!
Baji: Oops!
松野千冬:場地さん!!
Chifuyu: Baji-san!!
場地圭介:あと風船1個じゃねぇか一虎 すぐ終わらせてやるよ
Baji: You only have one balloon left, Kazutora. I’ll get it done real quick!
羽宮一虎:まけねぇぞ場地!!
Kazutora: I ain’t losing Baji!!
–After defeating Kazutora in Highest Level–
You can read Part 2 here!
#pazuribe#pazuribe translation#tokyo revengers pazuribe#puzz reve#tokyo revengers#tokyo revengers puzz reve#hanagaki takemichi#chifuyu matsuno#baji keisuke#hanemiya kazutora#kazutora is the babiest boy ever must protect
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hello! i am back with another edition of i hope people are reading this incredible sydcarmy fic because this fic is very special and if you’re not reading it, you really should be (from the comments i think ppl are but you can never hype writers enough imo) it stands out for me because it is really and truly a proper slow burn—we are ~83k into it, and it took most of those words to get us to a place where their romantic relationship felt inevitable and is hitting the gas—and it therefore feels like something that could happen on the show (also the payoff is incredible and earned).
it also feels very canon-y to me because (mild spoiler warning): 1) things eventually start happening between syd and carmy because they can’t help it some time before they’re able to have a proper conversation about it, and the “casual”-but-not-actually-casual-vibe-because-if-we-talk-about-it-it-will-probably-go-away feels extremely realistic to me for the tone of the show and for these particular characters; (2) there is meaningful time spent on other non-romantic relationship dynamics in the show (especially carm/nat, carm/mikey, syd/nat, syd/emmanuel, syd/tina) in a way that recognizes that the bear is an ensemble show and those other relationships necessarily feed and shape sydcarmy.
and so much of the prose is very beautiful - there are many lines that i have to just stop and sit with!
i know some people like to wait until wips are finished to read them, but don’t wait! there is only one chapter left and the most recent one left us in a very satisfying place. you will not regret it i promise.
(also if anyone knows if Thesuncameout is on tumblr so i can tag them, let me know)
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M,kay so like, may I request the 4 turns finding out that they were Y/n's pet before draxum stole and mutated them.
(this can be romantic if y/n got them when they were so a baby or platonic if y/n got them when they were older)
Thank you!
ILYSM this is a good one 😌
Pet teetels
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Raph❤️ - non established relationship
- your family owned a very cool breed of turtle
- As a kid you used to adore him
- He was your pride and joy :)
- That was until one fate full day your aligator snapping turtle was snatched up by some tall goat freak show of a man.
- You wanted revenge
- but since you weren’t even old enough to go out on your own you waited the day you set your eyes on your beloved turtle
- Now things have changed
- You met April though your new school in New York
- You both took a photograph class and now you guys have been great friends since !
- She soon introduced the turtles when she was ready
- Now you stood in front of four human sized turtles.
- Except for one.
- This one looked vaguely familiar…
“This one is Leo and this is raph!” You waved sheepishly at them all which the one in orange soon returned. “It’s nice to meet you all finally! April has been bragging about you guys for weeks !” You felt a small hit to the arm as you all chuckled. The brothers even let you stay for dinner ! As the pizza boxes were being put out you couldn’t help but stare at the turtle. “Hey , do you need help with those? Also I couldn’t help but notice your cool fighting skills! April showed me a video of you fighting some feet clan or something?” Raph looked up at you with sparkles in his eyes. No one had ever had full interest in who he was beyond his green skin and stink. “Oh yeah ! I think you mean to foot clan but yes , our dad splinter taught us how to train . Well as most he could anyway heh” you chuckled and picked up the rest of the boxes and brought them to the group. “Jupiter Jim anyone ? “ the blue one shouted. Everyone lit up as you nodded with a smile. You say the pizza boxes down and everyone took a slice. You and raph talked throughout the whole movie. Whispering of course 😊. As the last scene finishes you couldn’t help but ask for raphs number. He was super interesting and not to mention handsome as all hell. Once you got home he texted you first.
“Hey it’s Raphael! I’m really glad I met you today , it was fun :)”
“Yes it was ! Hey I forgot to mention that you look really familiar to me. I can’t stop thinking where I have seen you !”
“Heh , that’s weird. Maybe did you have a pet turtle or someone you knew did ? “
“ I actually did , but he got taken by some funky goat man when I was little . The turtle was older than me by like 3 months lol”
“Umm well I think I might need to do some explaining but I think I was your turtle”….
Donnie💜 - non established relationship
- you couldn’t help but realise how your friend Donnie looked vaguely familiar
- Could it be his eyebrows ?
- Or maybe his mask?
- The question replayed in your head but a ding in your phone shut your thoughts up
Ding ding. Your phone went off. The smooth ring tone you had set for Donnie rung loudly in your room filling up the lingering silence and loudness of your thoughts. You expression changed when you saw the picture he sent you. Rather the selfie he sent you. It was him in a fight with some , goat man? Omg ! The same man that had stolen your soft shell turtle has a kid !!! You text Donnie back quickly.
“ that goat man stole my turtle as a kid :(“
“What.”
“Yeah. He was the family pet we had. But he stole my angry little soft shell turtle.”
“ you know he mutated us right ? And umm I’m a soft shell … surprise I might be your childhood pet …”
Mikey🧡 - established relationship
- mikey was your sweetheart of a boyfriend
- But he had a familiar feeling about him
- You felt as though those same hands you held that you have touched before
- That same cheek you have kisses , you have kissed before
- Mikey feels the same , that’s when you both realise something …
You and your turtle boyfriend are cuddling on the couch and watching Jupiter Jim. You turn to him with a smile on your face. He looks down at your sparkling eyes and pauses the movie. “Are you ok baby cakes ? You’re looking at me with stars in your eyes:)” you look into his eyes once more , holding eye contact while you spoke. “You know , when I first met you, you seemed really familiar to me. Now that we are dating I can’t help but feel that it’s getting stronger. I just don’t know where it’s come from !!” He looked at you with a sudden surprised expression. “No way , man ! Me too. Like when you hold me it feels , nostalgic.” You looked at the tv again. A goat had been mutated to an alien on screen. “Hey I knew someone who was kind of a goat man. He stole my turtle when I was younger! “ oh. Mikey finally clicked. You had heard of his past and how he was mutated. You both smiled at the same time and in sink squealed! “You were my pet as a kid !! I loved you , still do !! <33” mikey felt the need to hug you in that moment.
Leo 💙
- your blue boyfriend was swinging his swords in training.
- You looked up at him to feel an unknown sensation
- As if , you knew him before ?
- Like maybe in a past life ?
- No , too far.
- But his laugh felt too nostalgic to be a coincidence….
Leo turned to you as you gave him a curious look. The way his sword swooshed in the air , the way his bandana tails swayed with every hit of the air around him. He felt kinda like home. You really loved your boyfriend. He meant the world to you. Before when you were just friends, in the early stages of your guys relationship it really felt as if that you had know each other for years. It was a spark that ignited into a forest fire of warmth. His stupid witty jokes and smirks felt all too familiar in this moment. You clearly have a horrible poker face as he came and sat next to you. “You good babe ? You have been weird all day, any guys ass I need to kick ?” You chuckled , always with the jokes to lighten the mood. “Nah I’m good just can’t shake this feeling that I have met you before we properly met.” He thought for a second. “Maybe in a past life ?” Definitely not. “No it feels more now. You know I had a red slider turtle just like you as a kid. Some one ended up stealing him tho :(“ Leo’s face lit up , draxum ! You both giggled at the fact of fate working its magic again. You two will always be connected wether you like it or not.
——————————————————————————-
Two tonight , woop woop I’m on fireee
Seriously tho I had no ideas for this so it took ages bug I just love you guys so much I pulled through 😍😋
#rottmnt#rottmnt mikey x reader#yandere rottmnt#rottmnt x y/n#donnie x reader fluff#raphael x reader#leonardo x reader
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Ficfinder finds: The Lemonade Leak
Chapter 10: The Devotee
Chapter 10 Summary: No summary
The Devotee: Appraisal and Ratings
(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)
Disclaimer: This fanfic is only available to those who have an Ao3 profile. This fanfic is written by @turtleinsoup, so go show them some love and support!!
The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.
Plot: 💛💛💛💛🖤
"Plot is four out of five!! Things are really getting intense now!! This chapter starts out a little stagnant, as if waiting then the story slams full force into effect!!”
Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛💛
"Suspense/Mystery is five out of five!! Aaaaaa oh gosh, things are crazy!! This chapter ends on a wild cliffhanger, so be prepared for that!!”
Angst/Hurt: 💛💛💛💛🖤
"Angst/Hurt is four out of five!! This chapter just has such a sense of wrongness to it, like something horrible is going to happen.”
Fluff/Comfort: 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤
"Fluff/Comfort is zero out of five! Like I said, everything feels like something is all going wrong, and there’s no comfort to dissuade that fact.”
Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛💛🖤🖤
"Emotions Conveyed is three out of five!! I’ll say it again. This chapter is filled with a sense of wrongness and dread, and stress. It was very suspenseful at the end!!”
Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛🖤
"Drama/Tension Level is four out of five!! The drama keeps only getting more and more prominent as Leo digs deeper into what's happening!!"
Triggers: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤
"Triggers for this chapter are two out of five. This chapter isn't quite as triggering as some of the others, though it is certainly chock full of suspense!!"
Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛
"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! In this chapter, I specifically enjoyed reading how Leo and Donnie communicate, and how the action of completing each others sentences was so well written out!!"
Legibility (Audio): 💛💛💛💛💛
"Legibility (Audio) is five out of five! Very wonderful, very smooth, good for audio book format ^^"
Length: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤
"Length is two out of five!! Chapter 10 of The lemonade Leak takes about 18-19 minutes to listen to!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter ->
<- Previous
The Lemonade Leak: Story Ratings and Chapter List
Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)
Donnie leaned back into his polyester privilege, and drove his foot against the bench, turning his chair away again. “Dije que deberías creer en la mierda que ves.” ‘Believe the crap you see.’ Leo rolled his eyes. With an acrobatic flip - too hand-reliant for combat and too risky for breakdancing - Leo landed back on top of the workbench, shoved his foot into the plush padding next to Donnie’s shoulder, and spun him back. “I just can’t believe-believe it, y’know? Mikey is… He’s not your twin!”
The direct translation for that phrase is “I said you should believe the shit you see.” I find it a little amusing that Leo censored it in his mind lol. I also enjoy seeing that Donnie knows some Spanish.
“Yeah.” Donnie offered his weapon off- and one-handed; like there was no weight in it at all. Like he wasn’t giving Leo a part of his very own soul. “Tibi credo, dummy.” Leo had no idea what that meant, but the grin blooming on his face could’ve powered a nuclear reactor and might have been equally as hazardous. He took Donnie’s bó with both hands.
Tibi credo is Latin translates into “I believe you”. Basically, Donnie is telling Leo that he believes him, that he’ll do a good job using his bo, and that he believes in him.
It was heavier than it looked but balanced itself into its last ounce. Finely worked, strong but gracile and so very Donnie. Leo’s calloused thumb traced the well-worn leather warping and the bó sang to him. Oh, Leo realized, A she. Leo chirped, threw an arm around his twin and nudged Donnie’s cheek with his nose. “Your princess got a name?” Leo made sure his hold was loose enough to be shoved off easily, but Donnie didn’t remove it. “Yeah," he muttered and rubbed his neck. "Her name’s Common Sense. Be efficient with her, she hates unnecessary touching, okay?” Leo’s grin only grew. He leaned away, placed Common Sense safely in his lap, and drew his twin blades. He spun them, caught them by the flat of their steel and offered Donnie the hilts of his soul. “Be respectful to my boys, Walking-stick and Pizza-cutter.”
I love how much thought is put into their weapons!! The respect, and the awe shown in regards to the weapons, is wonderful!! I’ve actually trained with a bo, and a katana, so it’s enjoyable to see this display. I did actually name my first bo, but it’s a silly name XD. As for katanas, it’s tradition to name them after the first things they cut. For example, I had a sensei who had a katana he named “Watermelon Slicer”. The name is pretty self explanatory. It’s just amusing to me, to think how this tradition may have influenced Leo’s naming of his swords. Most likely, the tradition didn’t play a part in the names he chose, but it’s still an amusing thought!
Could be worse. It could have been the Staten Island Ferry Mascot.
This guy. This is the Staten Island Ferry Mascot. You’re welcome XD
#tmntficfinder#ficfinder#ficfinder finds the lemonade leak#the lemonade leak#rottmnt fanfiction#rottmnt fanfic#rottmnt#rottmnt post invasion#tmnt fanfiction#disaster twins
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"Four Turtles & A Baby"
(TMNT BAYVERSE)
🐢 Chapter Two 🐢
The lair is filled with the faint hum of the television, some crappy show playing on the screen. The familiar scent of damp stone and lingering incense filled the air. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that danced upon the walls, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere.
Donatello is tinkering with a small gadget at his desk, while Michaelangelo munches on a slice of pizza. Leonardo sits in the corner, meticulously sharpening his swords, his attention focused and steady.
The heavy door creaks open, and in strode Raphael, his expression is a blend of anger and determination, but more prominently, he cradles something in his arms that is making a lot of noise, and makes his brothers shoot him surprised looks.
"Hey, guys… you’re not gonna believe this!"
"Duuude, what’ve you got?" Mikey chirps, his mouth full and eyes full of intrigue. "Is it a weapon or -" His voice trails off as Raphael shifts his grip, revealing the baby nestled in his arms. The atmosphere shifts from curiosity to shock real quick.
"Raph…" Leo says cautiously, standing from his seat, "Is that...a baby?!"
Donatello drops whatever gadget was in his hands and comes closer. He takes off his glasses and squints his eyes in bewilderment.
"Who in the world…? How did you even find a baby down here?"
"She was just there, in the middle of the storm." He glances down at the baby, then back at his brothers, who all wear similarly concerned expressions. "I couldn't just leave her there alone - "
"And you thought it was a good idea to bring her here?!" Leo interjected, his tone serious.
Donatello pulls his goggles down over his eyes, assessing the still-crying infant. "Her body temperature is too low." He continues to scan her vitals. "She's in a pretty bad way as it is, her vitals are less than stable. Wait... Do you think there's a way to trace back how she got here? Or maybe check if there’s any sort of identification?"
"How do you expect to do that, genius?" Raphael spat, "I doubt she's got a wallet on her..."
"Perhaps," came a voice from the other end of the room, "we should first focus on getting her warm and dry."
The brothers turned to see their sensei enter, his beady black eyes shining with curiosity. He carried a small wash basin filled with clean water, and a pair of fluffy towels over his shoulder.
Raphael takes a small step forward, the tension in his pose softening as he hands over the child to his father, one of her tiny fists curls around one of his fingers. The brothers watch in silence as Splinter disposes of the wet blanket and lowers her into the water. At the first touch of heat, her cries dwindle into whimpers. After about five minutes, the natural color returns to her cheeks.
Leo spoke up, “Maybe there’s a shelter we can take her to? Somewhere safe?”
Raphael frowned. “And just leave her there?! Who knows what kind of place that is. I won’t do that.” The fierceness in his voice was unmistakable.
“What do you want to do then? We can’t exactly raise her ourselves.”
"And why not, Leo? We’re a family, right?"
Splinter finished washing and drying the baby girl, who was now much calmer, and wrapped her tightly in a bright yellow blanket.
Leonardo steps closer, scrutinizing the baby carefully, then turns back to Raphael, voice softening. "Raph..."
"No."
"Raphael..."
"Don't say it, Fearless."
"We need to think about her safety. It's best to take her to a shelter where she can receive proper care and protection from professionals."
Mikey pouted. "But Leo, she's so adorable! Look at her little nose! Look at those tiny hands!"
"We can be her family," the big red brute said definitively.
As if on cue, her face scrunched up in distress, cheeks flushed, and a wail erupted that echoed against the ancient stones. Raphael's heart ached at her cries; they pulled at a part of him he thought he’d buried long ago.
"Shh, little one, it's okay," he whispered softly, taking her back from Splinter. As he shifted her in his arms, he felt the weight of her tiny body, fragile and helpless, and was struck by the gravity of his decision to bring her to their lair.
“She needs a real family…" Leo argued, "and a real home.”
“That’s not exactly easy for us,” Donnie added, glancing around the lair as if expecting someone to offer another solution.
"Nuh-uh, forget it, she's staying."
"And how exactly are we going to protect the city AND take care of a baby, dumbass?"
"Fine....you don't have to worry about it. Me and Mikey will do all the work, right little bro?"
Leo crossed his arms, his gaze firm but sympathetic. “Okay, okay. So we raise her ourselves, then what? We keep her hidden down here in the sewers forever?"
Raph took a deep breath, contemplating the enormity of what he was suggesting. “I don't know! But I can't just walk away. She needs...someone."
Mikey suddenly piped up, his voice full of both excitement but also caution. "Shell yeah! I mean, think of all the fun we could have! We'll feed her and bathe her and play with her..."
"She's not a dog, you idiot," Donnie said, shoving Mikey aside. "Human babies are incredibly fragile and require a lot of time and attention and care. It doesn't help that she's already obviously malnourished."
"So all the more reason we should keep her. We send her back out there, she could get worse, and I ain't gonna let that happen on my watch."
"Me either! And that makes it three against one, losers. Pookie stays!"
Three heads turned to stare at the youngest turtle. "What??"
"She's got to have a name, doesn't she?"
Raphael shook his head. "Yeah, but how about something a bit more normal and human-sounding?"
"Historically, there are lots of really great female names to choose from," Donnie said. "Persephone....Theresa...Cleopatra..."
Leo patted his brother on the shoulder. "Mikey, I understand that you're already attached to her, but we should figure out something a little more conventional."
"Yeah, calling a kid Pookie is a bit....too unique. IF she ever goes topside, we don't want her to stand out too much."
Mikey pouted again. "But Pookie suits her perfectly! It's cute and one of a kind, just like her. Can we at least consider it?"
Suddenly, there was a very loud boom of thunder that echoed through the sewers. The little girl wailed just as loudly in response to the abrupt noise.
"Thora."
The brothers turned to look at Splinter who gently takes the baby back from Raphael. He holds her at arms length, a small smile on his aged face. "She shall be called Thora. It means like the thunder."
Donnie nods his head. "Seems appropriate given how she was found, doesn't it?"
"I like it," Leo agreed.
"A badass name for a badass girl," Raphael said with a smirk, stroking a finger along her tiny cheek. "Isn't that right, dollface?
"Alright," Mikey mumbled, giving in. "Thora, it is... but I'm still gonna call her Pookie!"
And with that, the little girl's fate was sealed, and Leonardo effectively lost the argument of returning her to the world above.
💠
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for da prompts: “hey, don't do that, you'll hurt yourself" with 2012 or rise b-team?
can't stop thinking about 2012 mikey stimming by chewing on his comic book in that one season 1 episode.. enjoy some neurodivergent broskis !! :)
x
It’s like pure liquid eclectic running through his body. Like he’s been struck by lightening on the top of his head, running fast through to the tips of his toes, making him buzz at a million miles an hour. He can’t believe it. He can’t actually BELIEVE he has it. In his hands. In his hold. In his grasp. The comic book issue he’s been searching high and low for – these things didn’t just come to fall into one’s possession; no this here was a very limited, very special, very rare edition of a Wingnut run that he was sure he was to miss out on. But by pure luck, he has it. He has it in his possession and he can’t quite expel all of the leftover excitement, even hours after each re-read, he’s waltzing about the pit in fast paced circles as he clutches at it to his chest. Raph emerges from the dojo with a sheen of sweat visible across his brow, Leo following suit as he tucks his katanas into their holsters, smiling at their brother. “You’re still reading that?” Raph asks with a heavy breath, no doubt exhausted from the sparring session that’d gone on a little too long on the account of both his brother’s rather competitive personalities. Mikey hums. “Yep. For like the billionth time.” He tells them with wide grins. “Leo. Leoleoleoleo you have to read it. It’s sosososo good.” Leo chuckles warmly, stretching out his calf and giving his brother a soft, gentle look. “I will, Mike.” He tells him. “After you’ve stopped drooling over it, that is.”
The pure excitement of being able to share such a find with his brothers causes another sharp, burst of energy through him. They say lightening doesn’t strike twice in the same place, but here MIkey was, burning through it a second time over. He dashes off towards the lab where he knows he’ll find Donnie. Donnie who didn’t quite share his love for comics or Wingnut or much of the same things Mikey did, really, but rather had an appreciation for his love for such things. Or maybe it was just Mikey he appreciated. His brother is perched at his desk, tapping away at his keyboard with an air of concentration when Mikey rushes to him, bumping the table with his hip, startling his brother slightly. “Don. Don. This comic. It’s sososo good, do you wanna read it?” Donnie, pulling his gaze away from his screen blinks tiredly at his brother, his focus pulled towards the comic book Mikey was grasping tightly. His mouth quirks into a small smile. “Uh. Not exactly. But why don’t you tell me about it? I’m getting square eyes from this computer anyway.” Mikey nearly bursts with excitement. He goes into a full tangent about the story and the plot and all of the foreshadowing he’d picked up on in pervious volumes. He even talks in great detail about the color pallets the artists had used and how they help propel the storytelling when it all becomes a little bit too much and he’s wedging his wrist between his teeth and chomping hard. “Ow.” He says plainly, all the electric suddenly zapped from him, and Donnie frowns, leaning across the desk to inspect his poor limb that now was blessed with little half crescent teeth marks across his scales. “Stimmed a little too close to the sun there, huh?” Donnie says with a smirk, giving him his arm back after concluding he hadn’t hurt himself too seriously. Mikey rubs his wrist and pouts. “Yeah.” Then he smiles, his brain firing off more conversation about the comic, he’s flipping through the pages to show his brother when it happens again, and he’s chewing hard on his wrist until Donnie has to pry it from his mouth. “Hey,” he says with a slight laugh catching onto his voice. “Don’t do that, you’ll hurt yourself.” Mikey whines, but rocks back and forth on his feet instead, shaking out some of that left over lightening in his system.
“Wait,” Mikey says, stopping his thoughts harshly. “Did I tell you about the crossover arc that connects to this one?” Donnie shakes his head and leisurely relaxes back in his chair, like he knew he wasn’t going anywhere for sometime. “Nope,” he says. “But you can. Just don’t eat your arm off this time, kay?” Mikey laughs, true and loud and fires off once again, like electric, he’s unstoppable.
#points to michelangelo: that boy has adhd!!!#tmnt 2012#tmnt fanfiction#tmnt fanfic#tmnt fic#tmnt#ask#anon#fic prompt
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Interview with Livewire Online - My Chemical Romance
Posted November 12, 2003
KM, CC, JS Another thing to add to my "What Punk Isn't" List: being an asshole.
I got into punk rock because I wasn't accepted anywhere else and it was a place where everyone was accepted for who they were and what they wanted to be and to go there and make that a scene thats scary for kids to come to, being elitists about that, just defeats the whole purpose. So don't be an asshole.
LW: This is your 3rd night on the tour? Gerard: Uhh.....4th LW: Ah, ok, so how's it been so far? All: Awesome Ray: It's been cool cause Philly hasn't always been the best but... Frank: Yeah, we've always sucked it up in Philly. Gerard: Yeah, kids aren't too keen on us here but... LW: The first night on this tour was a full house at the 9:30 in DC. How does that compare to he smaller club tour with Piebald? Gerard: Piebald tour was really awesome cause...it wasn't necessarily a full house every night but the nights that it was and the nights that the kids were really good and responsive were almost magical, you know? Frank: It was cool cause there were smaller venues too, so it was more intimate. Ray: There were shows that had 70 people tops, like St. Louis. Mikey: Yeah, that one night there were like 30. Ray: Yeah and still every show was just fun. Less people, but definitely cool. LW: How have people reacted to you guys on this tour so far? Matt: Really good. Gerard: They wanna dance and have fun, you know? Mikey: Yeah, we dig the crowds that wanna have fun. LW: How do you respond to negative criticism? Frank: Bring it! Matt: We actually like it. Gerard: Yeah, especially hecklers, we like hecklers. It gives us more to do... Frank: But if you heckle a band, right? And the band is like, "Ok, why don't you come up and say that?", don't say it when they turn their back. Don't not say anything while they're facing you. That really sucks and you're a pussy. But if you're gonna heckle somebody, heckle them as hard as you would if they fucking talked to you. Ray: Yeah, if you say somethin and we're like, "Come up here and get killed", and you don't do that, like... LW: So Ray, your 80's Session guitar, how reliable is it on the road? Ray: I think in...Charlotte...it fell off the stage and busted in half basically. It probably can be fixed but I haven't gotten around to it. I've been playing Frank's, no, Mikey's SG and I actually like it better. It's a lot lighter but I do miss my Session guitar. LW: Do you guys like to experiment with vintage equipment in the studio that you wouldn't otherwise use on tour? Matt: We haven't had the chance. Gerard: Yeah, we can't afford it. Matt: On the record we did play with one vintage bass but that's about it. Frank: If you wanna, like, let us borrow one for recording feel free to do that. LW: You guys list a lot of 80's bands as influences, what are you into now? Gerard: The same bands. LW: I mean, like recent bands. Matt: Recover, Alkaline Trio Mikey: I like the new Doves a lot, the new Zwan record... Frank: Glassjaw LW: You kinda look like Billy Corgan. Gerard: Actually the very first time we played the Electric Factory, we got a review in Revolver that said I looked like the creepy son of Billy Corgan or something like that. It was a good review though. Mikey: Yeah, you look like how Jakob Dylan looks like his dad, you look like that with Billy Corgan. LW: Jakob Dylan is hotter than his dad so that's sort of a compliment. Mikey: Yeah, it is. Matt: He kept his hair. Frank: Have you seen Bob Dylan lately? They need to whell him out, he's dead. I think he's dead and no one's saying anything. LW: What do you think about your local scene? Gerard: Can't wait to go back to it. Frank: Ahh, Jersey. LW: Where in Jersey are you from? Frank: Newark. LW: Oh, ok. I'm from Cherry Hill. Frank: Oh really? Listen to Bombshelter Productions.They're really good. Gerard: Yeah, we're doing a hall show with Bombshelter... Ray: February 28. Gerard: Yeah, February 28. Frank: Big Wig... Mikey: We're gonna try to do those as many times as possible. LW: Yeah, its fun to see a local band come back and play a show. Gerard: It sucks cause because, it's like we, fuckin like almost wasted away too early in really big shows and we didn't play enough of the halls. Like, I can count on 2 hands probably, the number of halls we played. It sucks. And basements. Our best shows have been at colleges, halls, and basements. We've had a couple great shows on big stages, you know, but that barricade, thats fuckin shit. The fact that we're all 10 feet above... Frank: I dunno how you got through that monitor, dude. I thought I was gonna bust my ass. Ray: Well, I scoped it out before... Gerard: I tested it out before too, but, I was still like, "Fuck this!" Frank: DC was fine, like, it wasn't that far but I still didn't like the barricade. LW: The TLA down on South Street is better. Frank: I wanna play there! Ray: Do they still have barricades up like that? LW: They still have barricades but the stage is lower so you can see everything a lot better. LW: How did you guys get hooked up with Eyeball? Gerard: I had known Alex for years and he made a big policy not to sign friends' bands, and we were friends for years so I didn't think he would sign us but he saw us at like our 3rd show and he was like, "Dude, why don't you just come be part of the family? We can make it work". And we did. And it's pretty cool. LW: This lineup's been together since 2002? Gerard: Yeah, Frankie hopped on right before we recorded the record. Frank: I was in a band that was on Eyeball before. Matt: Yeah, so we used to play together. Gerard: They helped start us. LW: How important are sales stats to you? Do you get any pressure from your label? Frank: Pshhh... Gerard: That's one of the best parts about being on Eyeball: they don't give a shit. We always try to be successful and we want the music out there, that's the most important thing. Like, sound scanning doesn't mean shit to us, anything like stats doesn't mean anything to us. When we get to a venue or a city and we show up and we get on stage and we see all these kids sing along, that's how we know. Ray: Its not like a piece of paper that says 39 or 10 or whatever, it's the kids. Matt: They can all go get if off the internet anyway so why even care, you know? LW: I was going to ask that next. What about the availability of your music on the internet? Frank: Get it however you can! Gerard: I feel that like bands that are really small at the indie level, and labels that are at that level that are struggling, you should support them. Download it, if you like it, go buy it. Ray: Anything though, go to a show and buy some merch. Frank: We'd rather you come see us live. Mikey: I love the artwork, like album covers and the linear notes, like how can you get a stack of cds that say like... Gerard: Sharpieee Frank: I'm such a collector of music that I need the cover art, so I mean, like, go steal it... LW: What are your plans for the next release? Do you have any ideas production or material-wise? Frank: The first song we played... Gerard: The first track that we opened with is pretty much going to be the track that summarizes the whole record. It's a concept about revenge. We're taking March off just to write. We're not going into the studio anytime soon but we have all this music in us from the last 6 months and we wanna get it down so maybe we'll start playin some of this newer stuff out live. We wanna support this record. LW: Are you looking forward to Skate & Surf? All: Yeah! Frank: Oh yeah. Andrew WK! We met him last night. Ray: That was awesome. Frank: He wore tight green sweatpants and flannel and, uh, a big hat. I love that guy. LW: Do you have any other big festivals planned? What else are you doing this year? Gerard: Europe. Reading Festival. Mikey: The one that, like, Oasis always plays. LW: What goals have you accomplished this year? Gerard: Everything we wanted to and more. Frank: We've been so lucky it's not even funny. Gerard: It was me and Mikey's personal goal to play in Irving Plaza. We did that last night...and the night before. Every single goal. To have a record out, we did it, play in front of as many people as possible... Matt: Play Warped Tour Gerard: I think Warped Tour is the only thing left that we all sat around and said, "Hey, we wanna do this." Frank: So as soon as that happens, we're done! Matt: We can just stop. LW: So that's the only major thing left? All: No... Gerard: I dunno what we're striving for. I personally...we're striving to get it out to as many people as possible. Have that energy that we're putting out spit back at us. And to create really great moments when we play instead of us just, "Hey, we're a band you've never heard of, come check us out". I wanna get past that. That's my personal goal. LW: Have you faced any big challenges so far? Gerard: Getting used to touring. I mean that's the hardest thing any band has to do and once they get over that hump and get used to it they can really do whatever they want. I mean, a touring band is the kind of band that reaches people. MP3's don't reach people, getting out there reaches people. LW: As a band, how have you changed since the beginning? Gerard: A lot! Matt: We got Frankie! Frank: I got skinnier, we don't eat on tour. Gerard: [pointing at Ray] He's got an afro now! We got way more violent on stage. We're not trying to bring a violent message...it's not so much violence as a release of positive and negative energy. That causes accidents sometimes. LW: Where do you see yourselves heading in the future? Frank: Creating an MCR universe... Ray: A little MCR world. Gerard: I dunno, doin what we're doin now, touring. Frank: Reaching as many kids as possible and just... Matt: It's hard to tell cause we were just seein this in the near future, and it's hard to even think what's after this. Gerard: Yeah, I dunno what's after this. Frank: You don't know how lucky we've been. We've been together for a year. It's so silly, it's fuckin silly. We're really appreciative. I'm still collecting applications for Burger King... LW: If you had to write a State-of-the-Union-address-style speech about popular music, what would your main points be? Ray: Oh boy. Do it Frankie. Matt: Kill it! Mikey: I mean, there's nothin wrong with pop music. It's all the songs that everyone listens to when nobody's around, you know? Everybody loves that shit, so if you say you don't like it, you're fuckin lying. Everyone loves the new Justin Timberlake song and if you don't you're probably lying. Frank: I'm sick and fucking tired of people not writing their own goddam songs and getting on the radio and pretending like they're...like they know what's up. And, like, I'm tired of all that. I'm tired of bands that totally suck and kids buyin their t-shirts and being like, "Oh, this is what punk is" or "This is what hardcore is". And all these people don't know or care what it's all about or anything like that and I'm really psyched for real music and honest music to come out. Like Thursday. Bands like The Ghost, Sleep Station, Midtown, AFI. Bands that mean it, that have been there, that kids don't even know about and all these bands like Good Charlotte and Sum 41 and all these fuckin shit pop bands out there are influenced by these bands and rip them off. Matt: Or their writers rip them off. Frank: And no one fucking cares. I dunno, I'm really waiting for all this shit to be destroyed and that's one of my goals too. To get up there and if I get 10 kids to not buy Sum 41 cds and actually get into real music, like buy a Refused cd, please. If I can do that, then I'll feel like I've done something. And that's the way I feel about that! LW: Feel better? Frank: Little bit. Yeah. LW: Is there anything else we didn't touch on that you wanna share? Frank: Yes! Support indie scenes, support your local scene, support local bands! Put on a show. Do something. Write a letter to your fuckin asshole president who is bombing innocent people for no reason. Just make a difference. Cause one person can do something. If you just sit back and pretend, like, you know, like, "Oh it's not my problem" or "I can't do anything about it", you're just adding to the bullshit. And don't talk shit about things you don't know about, like, bands like Thursday and Midtown and bands that are comin out that worked their asses off to get stuff. People call them sellouts because they got success. There's a fine line between selling out and success. Don't you think it'd be better to hear Thursday on the radio than Creed? Seriously. This is our scene, all of ours, support it! Don't fuck up venues. Don't be an asshole. It's not punk rock to be an asshole. And another thing. If you go to shows just to kick somebody's ass, you're stupid, you're a jock and you're fuckin ruining everything. I got into punk rock because I wasn't accepted anywhere else and it was a place where everyone was accepted for who they were and what they wanted to be and to go there and make that a scene thats scary for kids to come to, being elitists about that, just defeats the whole purpose. So don't be an asshole. LW: What do you have to say about the bashing that Midtown gets for the whole, uh, thing? Frank: Fuck you! Do you have any clue what happened with that? No! You have no clue dude. Seriously. Not that it's a situation to even be made known, but you don't know what they went through cause it's no one's fuckin business. And trust me. They worked for everything they've gotten.
#frank iero#ray toro#matt pelissier#gerard way#mikey way#bullets era#november 12 2003#november 2003#2003#interview#transcript#rica.archive#punk rant#sum 41 mention#good charlotte mention#mcr world#frank endorses stealing
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Aspirations pt. 4
Sydcarmy Masterlist
Full Masterlist
Menu planning, avoidant behaviour, protective Richie and jealous Carmy, anyone? Yes, I busted this chapter out very quickly because I couldn't wait to write it 😂 I'm happy with this one, I think. Hope you are too! Our chapter count has gone up - why tf did I think I could do this in 3?! 😅 - I'm pretty sure it's going to be 6 in total.
~~~~~~
“What’s next?” Nat asked later that day from the dining table while Syd moved the previous plate away.
“Oysters.”
“Nooo! Please no.”
“You said we could give it a shot?” Carmy looked hurt,
“I think we’re going to lose too much prep time shucking them and making them presentable.” Syd countered.
“We’ll time it. Nat, stopwatch?”
“On it. I’m kinda leaning with Syd though. Does anyone actually like them?”
“I do.” They both replied, “trust me, I know you’ll like these ones.” Syd continued.
“Show me why you can’t shuck them?” Carmy asked Syd, handing her a knife and an oyster. She looked wary but made sure the crustacean was secure in her hand and positioned the knife, “Ok, you’re going in at the wrong angle, may I?” He came close to her, head bent towards hers. She went to hand him both items but he shoo’d her hands away, “no, you’re gonna do it, Chef.” His hand covered hers, holding the oyster with her and his other hand joined hers on the knife. He changed the position of the blade and guided her to push the point of the knife into the hinge of the oyster. His hands cupped hers as they heard a small pop and the oyster opened up. “See, you did it.”
“I think you did it,” she replied softly, neither of them moving apart. Behind Syd, Nat cleared her throat.
“Aren’t these supposed to be an aphrodisiac?” She asked. Carmy sprang away from Syd.
“Uhh yeah, it’s cos they look like… well. Y’know. Anyway, you’re gonna try this and I promise you’ll like it.” Syd smiled seasoning the opened oyster with a dressing of cilantro, lime and ginger she’d already prepared and finished it off with a drizzle of sriracha. Next to her, Carmy had lined up a couple of others he'd opened up and she seasoned those as well. “Ok… so just like, swallow it whole.” She handed the small plate to Nat who held it up for a better look.
“Swallow it whole? Ok, now you’re just fucking with me cos I mentioned the whole aphrodisiac thing?” Syd shook her head,
“Nope. I swear, you gotta just go for it.” Nat and Carmy both tried theirs at the same time.
“Are you fucking real, Sydney?” He muttered, “that was insane.”
“You’ve converted me.”
“Cool. They’re still not going on the menu.” Syd laughed,
“They have to!” Nat protested.
“How about if we did it with scallops instead?” Carmy suggested, “We can’t not use this dressing, Syd.” She tried the last oyster for herself.
“Yeah… that dressing is the shit. Scallops could work. I’ll get some from the fish guy tomorrow and try it?”
“Heard, Chef.” He replied with a small smile.
“Do I still need to time you?”
“No,” Syd went to speak up as Carmy said,
“Yes, please do.” He turned to Syd, “We have some left, it’s good practice.”
“Yeah, good practice for something I’m never doing again.” She teased.
“We’ll see about that. Race?” Syd’s eyes lit up. She loved it when he was like this, and it was becoming more and more of a regular occurrence since The Bear had opened. He had the same intensity and unwavering gaze, but he was playful and mischievous. She’d finally seen him the way Nat and Richie had known him before. Quick witted - often with an under the radar dirty joke that had her, Richie and Tina sniggering into their prep work while Marcus and Gary looked bemused.
“Fucking fine. I’m going to own you, bitch.” He divided up the remaining oysters between them and handed her the knife back. He found another from the drawer,
“Doubt it, Chef. Nat, you judging? Don’t let her fuckin’ cheat.”
“You’ll pay for that Berzatto, I do not cheat.”
“Alright you two, let’s go before Pete gets back with Mikey,” Nat came to stand on the other side of the counter so she could see them both standing side by side, elbows brushing. “What’s the winner get?”
“Oysters on the fuckin’ menu.” Carmy decided.
“Nuhuh, that’s fine if you win… If I win though, I want you to make the dish I had in New York.” Confusion followed by shock crossed his face,
“Fuckin’ coming back to that after I’ve kicked your ass.”
“Please,” she scoffed, “let’s get this over with so you can cook for me again.” She rolled her eyes.
“You both ready?” Nat interrupted. “Three, two, one - go!” Syd snatched up her first oyster and, using the technique Carmy had just shown her, opened it without delay. She put each one she opened onto the plate between them, watching Carmy from the corner of her eye she guessed that he was maybe half a second ahead of her.
“Best meal I’ve ever had, y’know.” She said, watching his knife falter just briefly before he got it back under control.
“Good to know. Stop tryin’ to distract me.”
“I would never do that,” she grinned down at her oysters, taking advantage of his time slip.
“You’re always a distraction.” This time her hand stuttered. She caught herself just before the knife made contact with the palm of her hand but it was too late, she’d lost time. Carmy threw his last oyster onto the plate and dropped his knife. “Done.” Syd finished the moment he spoke.
“Ding ding! Carmen Berzatto, congratulations.” Natalie faux bowed to him. She picked up her pen, “so, oysters on the menu then?”
“Nah, we’ll do scallops instead.” He turned to Syd, “It’ll still work. We’ll do it like a -”
“Ceviche,” they said in unison.
“Thank you.” Syd acknowledged.
“Fucking weird.” Nat muttered, rolling her eyes. As she spoke, Pete came through the front door with Mikey’s stroller, “Ok, that’s my cue for a nap. See you guys in an hour. Don’t kill each other in my kitchen. Or anything else.” They dressed the oysters and cleared up before sitting down to eat.
“Mmm. Holy shit,” Syd moaned, “I’m putting this dressing on everything from now on.” “It’s fire, Chef.”
“Thank you.” They fell into a comfortable silence until, “check your plum sauce.” She reminded him.
“Fuck, yes. Thanks.” He toyed with the heat and sat back down next to her, looking over the menu. “It looks good.” He noted, nudging her slightly.
“Yeah I think so. Just the right amount of festivity.”
“Exactly. Seasonal.” She could feel his eyes on her as she made some notes for the soon-to-be scallop dish. “When were you in New York?” He asked at last.
“A long time ago. I saved up and blew everything on a few days there. Ate everywhere I wanted to.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know you didn’t. I wasn’t lying the day I met you when I said I knew of you. That meal changed my fucking life.”
“Mine too, I guess,” he took her wrist gently and pulled her up, “here, try this?” He took her to the stove top and gathered a spoon of the plum sauce. Unable to hand it to her without it spilling, he brought it to her mouth instead. She held his gaze as he placed the spoon in her mouth. There was something in his eyes that she couldn’t quite decipher but she could feel the heat spread from her cheeks down to her toes, could feel her thighs clench together in desperation. She was eternally grateful that she could easily hide a blush, but she was certain he could sense how her breathing changed. His fingers brushed against hers as she took the spoon from him, the taste of plum and winter spices exploding on her tongue.
“Fuck me.” She mumbled in surprise, eyes still on him. He arched an eyebrow, “the sauce. The sauce is really fucking good.” She confirmed quickly, realizing how closely they were standing.
“Doesn’t need anything?” Her eyes flicked down to his lips as she subconsciously bit her own lightly. Her heart threatened to burst out of her chest. She could feel herself leaning in unintentionally, her body automatically seeking him out. From his pocket, his phone rang and she turned on her heel instead and took the spoon to the sink with a shake of her head,
“Doesn’t need anything.” She maintained as he let the phone ring, still watching her. “You gonna get that?”
“It’s Claire.” He said, a little sadly. She nodded,
“You should take it. I’m gonna get some air.” She picked up the nearest outer layer, his sweater from earlier in the morning, and slipped out of the front door as she heard him answer,
“Hey babe,” She closed the door with a quiet click behind her and sat on the front door step with her head in her hands. What the fuck was she doing? What the fucking fuck was she fucking doing? She took deep breaths but all it did was remind her of earlier in the morning, wrapped in his arms with his hand on her back and hers on his heart. The heart he’d all but given to someone else. She needed to get a grip before she did something really fucking stupid. Co-workers did not share beds and spoons and eye fuck each other over a plum fucking sauce. She twisted her braids into a bun and secured it, welcoming the cool air on the back of her neck. She shouldn’t have picked up his damn sweater again, he was invading her senses in every single way and it was all becoming too much. She wasn’t sure how much distance she could keep anymore, he just kept drawing her in. She heard the door click again and he sat next to her. “You good?” He asked. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. Surely he’d felt it too? Was he just as affected, or was she imagining it? She cleared her throat,
“This needs to stop.” She said firmly, not bothering to confirm what this was.
“Yeah,” he agreed.
“Yeah.” She got up, went back inside and tried to keep herself from falling back into his orbit for the rest of the day.
*
It had been weeks. Syd maintained an appropriate distance at all times. She tried to keep someone between them, took a full step back from her station whenever he came over to taste her dishes, tried to look anywhere except at him. It was fucking hard. Her eyes were drawn to him in every room, every time. She sought him out even when she didn’t mean to. And fuck she missed him. She occasionally wondered if he was finding it just as difficult, but pushed it to the back of her mind. They weren’t doing anything differently, she reasoned. They were still friends, still co-workers, still partners. She took a plate of pasta into Natalie in the office, Nat looked up at her in concern,
“Hey, you ok honey?”
“All good, Chef.”
“You just seem a little… distant recently?”
“Just getting on with work.” At that, Richie burst into the office,
“Syd, if he asks, you gotta say no.” She looked bemused.
“Say no to who?”
“The fish guy. The pot wash at the taco place said he wants to ask you out.”
“The fuck? Why are you getting your information from the pot wash at the taco place?”
“We smoke together, trade intel.”
“About me?”
“About everything, Syd. Jeez, focus! The fish guy wants to ask you out, but you gotta say no - ok?”
“Not ok, Richie - why should she say no?” Nat stepped in,
“Cos he’s a fuckin’ dickbag that’s why!”
“Who’s a dickbag?” Carmy asked, coming in and dropping into a chair.
“The fish guy.”
“Oh fuck yeah, he’s a fuckin’ dickbag. Why do we give a shit though?” He asked, dragging a hand through his hair.
“Cousin, he wants to ask Syd out, I gotta warn her off him.”
“He wants to do what?”
“I know, right? Fuck that. He’ll lose his fuckin’ teeth if he tries.” Said Richie, still affronted that he wasn’t being taken seriously. Nat and Syd exchanged glances.
“Look, if Syd wants to say yes then she can say yes -”
“But -”
“But nothing. You will both just get your heads out of your asses and leave this the fuck alone, do you hear me?” She warned them.
“Syd, he’s a fuckin’ dickbag.” Carmy said, his voice low, something unrecognizable in his tone.
“Surely that’s for me to decide?”
“Woah, what’s happening here?” Claire squeezed into the room which was now at full capacity.
“Ugh,” Nat groaned, “these two are being ridiculous. The fish guy wants to ask Syd out -”
“Well, that’s good?” Claire asked,
“No it’s fucking not.” Richie and Carmy replied in unison.
“He’s a dickbag.” Carmy muttered.
“A total fucking bag of fucking dicks.”
“Can we stop with the phrase dickbag, please?” Nat pleaded.
“Look, I appreciate the concern guys, but I am capable of deciding for myself whether to date someone. I don’t… I don’t get why we have five fucking people in this office getting into my personal life?” Syd held her hands up.
“He’s not after a date,” Richie grumbled. “He’s after a quick fuck. Does it all the time at all the restaurants in town.”
“S’true.” Carmy confirmed, looking at his hands.
“He ‘dates’ these women for a while and then just fuckin’ ditches them. Waitresses, chefs, fuckin’ anyone who’ll say yes.”
“Have you considered that that might suit Syd?” Nat asked. Syd caught her eye and frowned with a small shake of her head, Nat shrugged.
“Syd’s better than that,” Carmy said, “you’re better than that.” He finally looked up at her, still standing by the desk.
“Again, that’s for me to decide.” She pointed out.
“I think you guys are, like, really invested in Sydney’s sex life. Don’t you think that’s a bit weird?” Claire asked.
“No.” Richie and Carmy replied together, again.
“Yes it is, actually.” Syd agreed with Claire. “Neither of you should care who I’m dating or fucking or whatever the fuck I’m doing in my spare time.”
“We’re looking out for you, cuz!” Richie’s voice rose again. She didn’t have time to pause when she noticed Richie call her cousin,
“This is a really weird way of looking out for me, Richie.” She suggests, “all I have to go on is that he’s a dickbag who dates around a lot?” She saw Carmy shoot Richie a look,
“Well, yeah - isn’t that fucking enough?”
“Richie, you sound jealous! Do you want to date Syd?” Claire teased.
“Fuck, no!” Carmy and Richie both shouted. “No offense,” Richie followed up.
“Ok, this is getting really fucking stupid. The guy hasn’t asked me out, I haven’t even seen him for weeks, and I have no idea what I’d say if he did ask me, ok? You,” she pointed at them both, “do not get to tell me who I can date or who I can fuck, understood?” Syd glared.
“Yes, Chef.” Richie mumbled. She looked at Carmy, his face unreadable.
“Carmy?” Claire asked on Syd’s behalf,
“Yeah, of course. Nothing to do with me, right?” He asked with a shrug, anger creeping into his voice.
“Cool, so now that we’ve established that Syd’s free to date whoever she wants, we getting out of here for a couple of hours?” Claire asked Carmy, rolling her eyes with a smile to Syd and Nat.
“Sure, I’ll just get my stuff. Meet you out front?”
“Yeah. Uhh… great catch up, guys. Syd, good luck!”
“Yeah, thanks. See ya, Claire.” They all waited for the sound of the swing door before speaking again.
“This is really fucked up.” Nat muttered, digging into her pasta. “Not this, this is gorgeous. This pair of fuckos.” She pointed with her fork at Carmy and Richie.
“I’m outta here for a bit,” Carmy made his way to the lockers and Syd followed.
“The fuck was that?” She hissed, aware of Richie and Nat in the office.
“Nothin’. Like you said, s’not my place to tell you who you can date.” He shoved his arms into his jacket, “or fuck. Right?” He added, his voice laced with anger.
“Correct. Because you have a girlfriend, remember? A friend who is a girl? So you shouldn’t care what I do.”
“Or who?” She glared at him. She tried to disguise her hurt with anger, but she couldn’t stop the stray tear on her cheek,
“Fuck you, Carmy.” She jabbed his chest. “Fuck. You.” She spat out, full of venom. He stilled, leaned into her hand.
“Yeah. Sure, Syd. Fuck me.” He reached up to brush the tear away with his thumb and slipped past her to Claire. She hesitated before going back to the office, trying to get her emotions under control so she didn’t cry in front of Richie or Nat.
“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Richie started as she walked back in. “Fuck, sorry. Can I call you sweetheart?” She nodded a little.
“S’ok. I know you meant to fucking protect me or some shit, I get it.” He met her forehead with his own,
“Yeah. But I was an asshole and I’m sorry.”
“Thank you, Richie.”
“Please say no if he asks you. I’m too fuckin’ old to be fightin’ toddlers in the fuckin’ street, huh?” She offered a brief smile.
“I’ll bear it in mind.”
“Ok. I gotta fuckin’ burn one. That shit was awkward as hell when Claire came in and Carmy was making fucking goo-goo eyes at you.”
“Fuck off Rich.” He laughed, patted her shoulder sympathetically and made for the back doors. Syd sat heavily in the chair Carmy had sat in, and slumped down while Nat quietly finished her pasta.
“You ok?” She asked.
“Not really.” She rubbed her hands over her face with a big sigh.
“So you guys are just going to… what? Either be ignoring or fighting each other for the foreseeable future?”
“I guess so.” Syd shrugged, anger building again. “He has no right to tell me who I can date.”
“I know.”
“It’s nothing to do with him. Nothing at all to do with him.”
“I agree.”
“Whatever the problem is, it’s his problem to fix. Not mine.”
“I hear you.”
“What do I do, Nat?”
“You live your life, babe. You do whatever the hell you want and he can go to fuck.”
“Yeah. Yes. You’re right. It’s nothing to do with him.” Syd nodded.
~~~~~
#the bear fanfiction#the bear fx#the bear#the bear fanfic#syd adamu#sydney adamu#carmy berzatto#syd x carmy#syd x carmen#carmen x sydney#carmy x syd#carmy x sydney#sydcarmy#sydney and carmy#sydney x carmen#sydney x carmy
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Synopsis: A young Greta Van Fleet find hope in a local battle of the bands competition to finally catch their big break.
Words: 3.7k
Notes: Happy (belated) birthday to @infinisonicosm!! Thanks for sharing your brain baby with me and trusting me to write this out 😊
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Day Before the Competition
“How are you feeling?” Danny bumped shoulders with Sam as he caught up to him in their crowded high school hallway during their ten minute break. Sam had been trying to get his oversized backpack secured back on, and stumbled a bit at Danny’s contact.
“Terrified,” he squeaked out, clutching onto one of the lockers near him to stay upright.
“Are you really?” Danny suddenly looked concerned. Sam stared back at him and gave a half shrug, like he was still trying to make up his mind.
“How about you?” he asked back. Danny had trouble hiding his wide beam, which was all Sam needed to see to nod his head with a chuckle. “Obviously feeling pretty good,” he said.
“This could be our big break!” Danny’s voice rose in eager anticipation. “I mean, imagine it, Sam. We win and then get to record one of our songs to play on the radio. That would be huge!”
“We need to win first though,” Sam reminded Danny.
“Which you are gonna do,” Sam and Danny’s friend, Tom, told them as he came to their side. “I can’t wait to finally see you guys perform.”
“It does stink that your parents won’t let you come and see us at our biker bar gigs,” Danny told him.
“Right?” Tom widened his eyes. “I mean, I’m almost 18, I should be able to go to a biker bar if I want to.”
“Trust me, you’re not missing out on anything,” Sam reassured Tom. “It’s a bunch of people who are tired of life. It’s actually kinda depressing, you know, when they aren’t pounding each others’ faces in.”
“That’s the kind of action I want to catch though!” Tom protested.
Their other friend, Leah, joined the group. “What kind of action are you looking to catch?” she smirked at Tom. His face immediately flushed scarlet, which left Danny and Sam laughing loud. Leah turned to them both once they were done ridiculing Tom and put her hands in her pockets, like she wasn’t sure what to do with them. “I’m gonna be driving a full car out to the fields tomorrow,” she shared. “We’re all really looking forward to seeing your band play.”
“Who all is coming?” Sam asked around. As nervous as he was, he was pretty thrilled that he would finally be able to play in front of his friends. He could finally show them that all the time he spent in his garage with his brothers and Danny wasn’t for nothing. Leah thought it over.
“Well, there’s me, Tom, Mikey, Ash, Rachel, Ian, Chrissy, and Jay,” Leah counted out on her fingers. Everyone studied her hand and took note that she had eight fingers out.
“How many seats does your car have?” Danny had to ask. Leah let out a chuckle.
“Ian’s gonna sit in the trunk.”
“We did nose goes and he lost,” Tom clarified.
“I’m sure one of you guys could come with us,” Danny tried to think on his feet. The road out to the fairground fields was a bumpy one, and he knew for a fact that it would be torture experiencing that from the trunk of a car. Not to mention super illegal. Tom and Leah both shook their heads.
“We want to get as many people out there as we can,” Tom explained. “If we can get some more people on board, we’ll take two cars.”
“Good,” Danny breathed out, trying to get the image of Ian crammed behind a row of seats out of his head.
“Do you have a setlist down?” Leah asked between Danny and Sam. “How is this battle of the bands gonna work anyways?”
“We’re still working on the setlist,” Sam answered her first question. “We’re gonna have to figure that one out during rehearsal after class today. I can only imagine how much arguing is gonna go down between Jake and Josh over it, but we’re both used to it.”
“Unfortunately,” Danny muttered, remembering the time that Jake had hoisted Josh over his head and threatened to chuck him out the miniscule window in their garage. Danny and Sam had to de-escalate things by playing “We Are Family” on full blast and reminding Jake about the importance of brotherhood.
“You doing Free Bird?” Tom poked fun. That earned him a snort from Danny and a playful slap on the arm from Sam. “How about Stairway?” he tried again.
“You wish,” Sam chuckled.
“We have to get through three rounds before the finals,” Danny shared with his friends. Sam nodded along; this was information that Jake had drilled into their heads over the past few months. “In the first two rounds, we only get one song to impress the judges.”
“That’s when you play Free Bird,” Tom pointed out.
“We’ve got some good ones up our sleeves,” Danny promised him.
“Round three we get to play three songs, and then the finals are two bands going head to head, playing a total of five songs," Sam added.
“That sounds pretty intense,” Leah blew out a whistle. The battle of the bands was scheduled to happen over two days at Frankenmuth’s AutoFest festival, bringing in rock bands from across the state. Greta Van Fleet had been searching near and far for their big break and, after they first heard about the competition, there was a sense of excitement amongst them that this could finally be it.
“It’ll be fun,” Danny promised, wrapping his arm around Sam and pulling him in close. Sam snorted in return, but leaned into Danny’s grasp. The bell ending their break sounded overhead, and they untangled from each other. Leah and Tom parted ways, promising to check in later about plans and wishing them luck. Once they were gone, Sam looked back at Danny.
“Have you heard any more about the other bands that are supposed to be playing in this thing? You seem uncharacteristically cocky.”
“Most of the bands seem pretty inexperienced,” Danny confided. “But there’s one from Detroit to keep an eye on. They have a guitarist who seems to know his shit.”
“Jake should love that,” Sam thought aloud. Jake usually got butthurt when he was around people who could play better than him. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, you could tell Jake was seething on the inside. “What about the rest of the band?” Sam checked.
“I guess we’re gonna find out,” Danny laughed. Sam tried to laugh with him, but he struggled.
Sam wanted to go into the battle of the bands more confident than ever so they could knock it out of the park. He tried to picture himself strutting onto the decent-sized stage in the middle of the large AutoFest open field, dressed to the nines in his best flare pants, button up, and vest. All the other bands grouped around the wings of the stage would gape at Sam, Danny, and his brothers as they tore into their first song of the set, knocking everyone off their feet. And then their competitors would throw in the towel and drop out, letting Greta Van Fleet win by default. The problem was, Sam knew that would never happen. He still wasn’t super thrilled with his dad’s bass that he was stuck playing. The strings went out of tune fast, and he had a hard time wrapping his fingers fully around the neck so he could hit all of his notes. He knew that he was good at keeping a steady rhythm and flying off the rails with creative riffs where it was appropriate, but there was still doubt bubbling in his gut. Sam was just a high school senior, on the brink of graduating. He was supposed to go to college and become an engineer. The whole rockstar thing was still fairly foreign to him, even though Jake assured him it was his destiny.
Sam wished he could voice his doubts to Danny, but the way he saw his friend strut around the hallway to their science class, giving lowerclassmen high fives who wished them luck on their gig, he knew they wouldn’t see eye to eye. Danny had always wanted to do something related to music (or golf). He was on the right path. Sam wondered if maybe Josh would see where he was coming from, since he was considering putting his film career on hold if things with the band really started to pick up.
That brought some comfort to Sam’s racing mind, and was enough to get him through the rest of the school day without curling up into the fetal position and crying out for help.
*****
Once school let out, Sam met Danny at his locker and they made their way out to the front to retrieve their bikes. As they worked on opening their locks, Danny chuckled down at his bike.
“We’re seniors and we’re still riding these things to school every day.”
“It’s better for the environment,” Sam joked back. “We’re single-handedly saving the planet.”
“If we win this competition, I’m taking whatever earnings we get from radio play to get myself a nice ride.”
“I’m not sure that we’d really earn that much from radio play.”
“Just, let me dream here, Sam.”
“Okay, okay. What car would you get?”
“A Toyota Camry,” Danny grinned off into the distance, as if he was picturing the car in front of him. “Either red or blue.”
“At least you’re reasonable,” Sam couldn’t help but laugh.
They hopped on their bikes and started biking back towards Sam’s house, where Jake and Josh were sure to be waiting for them so they could get started on their band practice.
“What are you gonna do with your share of the money?” Danny called over his handlebars to Sam, who was biking just ahead of him. Sam considered Danny’s question and shook his head.
“I feel like I would be super jinxing us if I answered that.”
“It’s a hypothetical question,” Danny called back. Sam thought about it more.
“I guess,” he drew out his response, “I would probably buy a pair of birks.”
“That’s it?” Danny couldn’t hide his shock. “Those must be some expensive sandals.”
“They kinda are,” Sam looked over his shoulder to tell Danny. He felt his gut flop around in frustrated confusion. In his mind, he wanted to take that hypothetical money and put it towards his college tuition. But he wasn’t sure if that was something that Danny really wanted to hear. Danny always seemed a bit concerned when Sam made offhand comments about going out of state to study and take a break from the bass.
They squealed to a stop in front of Sam’s family house, hopped off their road bikes with ease, and rolled them to the foot of the garage door, which was opened wide. Jake and Josh were in separate corners of the space, Josh sitting with his legs crossed on the pavement, writing in his notebook while Jake tried to restring his guitar. Their heads both snapped up at Danny and Sam as they approached them.
“Have a good day?” Josh greeted them, slamming his notebook shut. Sam had quickly caught sight that Josh was brainstorming their setlists, as if preparing for battle against Jake.
“Nothing to complain about,” Danny answered back as he threw his backpack onto the couch they had all carried from Goodwill to spruce their practice space up. “It sounds like we’re gonna have a decent turnout cheering us on.”
“That’s awesome,” Jake commented. He looked back down at his guitar and twisted the peg with a grunt to get the string back in place. “If we have a lot of people backing us up, it might influence the judges to score us higher.”
“You both doing good?” Danny asked between the twins.
“I got out of class early which gave me more time to think about songs,” Josh answered with a smile. “It seemed like a bit of good luck, honestly.”
“I got these strings on discount,” Jake smirked as he continued to work. “I befriended the guy at the music store after playing some of my riffs on one of the test guitars. He was treating me like a god, so I decided to bank on that.”
“That must be really good for your obviously crippling ego,” Sam poked fun at his older brother. He was jealous of how much power and confidence Jake radiated anytime he had his hands on his guitar.
“Quit it,” Jake gave Sam a testing glance. Sam knew better than to keep pushing his buttons, especially that early into their practice session. He could start berating his bandmates after a few songs; that was when it was more acceptable to lose all decorum.
Sam joined Danny on the couch and motioned at Josh’s notebook.
“So, setlist?”
“I’ve got a few variations that we could consider, but I’m curious what you’re all thinking.”
“Edge of Darkness,” Jake started to list off, “Black Flag Exposition, Free Bird…”
“You asshole,” Josh laughed at Jake. “I’m limiting you to two solos for the competition.”
“Do you wanna win this thing or not?” Jake crossed his arms.
“Here we go,” Sam mumbled to Danny. He could tell Jake and Josh were seconds away from throwing whatever they could get their hands on at each other. For Jake, there was an old lamp within reach (which he had done before). Josh had a bowling ball close to him, which made Sam worried.
“We’re gonna win by playing together, as a group,” Danny reminded the twins. “We need to focus on showcasing our strongest songs.”
“That’s what I was thinking,” Josh’s hands uncurled from their tightened fists so he could pick back up his discarded notebook. “What if we started things off with Thunderstomp? That one usually sounds pretty good.”
“We have a five minute limit on our first song,” Jake reminded Josh. “I don’t think we can do Thunderstomp in that amount of time. I need enough space for my solo, I can’t cut that baby down. It’s when I take the crowd on a trip.”
“All right, simmer down, rock n’ roll sherpa,” Josh smirked at his brother. Jake gave him a raspberry in return, as if they were a couple of bickering toddlers.
Sam was glad that Jake was vetoing Josh’s idea. He wasn’t about to say it aloud, but there were some lines that got his fingers all twisted. Sure, he had written the part himself, but he found that, if he let his mind wander while he played, he was bound to play something wrong, which Jake could always hear. Sam really didn’t enjoy seeing Jake scowl back at him.
“We could do Fast Train Blues?” he piped up. That song had a fun bass part that he was proud of. Danny, Jake, and Josh considered Sam’s suggestion, and then looked around at each other. Finally, Jake gave in with a nod.
“That would be a good one to get the people into it. A little blues hurt no one.”
“Okay, I can see it,” Josh agreed. “We get the people thinking we’re a bluesy band and then, bam! We bust out the hard rock and blow everyone away.”
“I was actually thinking, if we make it to the second round, we should do an acoustic song,” Jake looked at Josh. Josh looked back at Jake like he was growing an arm out of his forehead.
“You? An acoustic song?” he pointed, his mouth hung open.
“What happened to Jake?” Danny looked equally surprised. “Mr. If It’s Not Plugged In, I Don’t Want It.”
“We need to show off our range,” Jake explained himself. “I also want to be the one to sing it.”
Now Josh’s eyes really bugged out. Sam could feel himself white knuckling the arm of the sofa that he was settled on. Jake knew better than to step on Josh’s toes.
“What am I supposed to do then?” Josh demanded to know. “Dance around like a monkey?”
“You’ll have a tambourine?” Jake attempted to plead his case. When met with a deep frown stretched across Josh’s face, Jake let out a frustrated huff. “If you knew how to play an actual instrument, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
“Singing is an instrument!” Josh protested.
“Ehhh…” the rest of the band countered.
Josh eyed the bowling ball next to him and seemed to be trying to work out if he had enough muscle to chuck the twelve pound ball at Jake’s head. He seemed to think better of it and instead opted to fling a tennis racket at Jake, hitting him straight in the gut. Jake keeled over but, after he caught his breath, he sent the racket flying back at Josh, missing him by a mile. Josh hopped from foot to foot pointing and cackling at Jake. That quickly came to a stop when Jake successfully got Josh in the shoulder with a can of refried beans.
“Ow!” Josh called out, clutching at his smarting wound and flopping onto the sofa between Danny and Sam.
“Are you done?” Sam asked between Jake and Josh. “I’d really like it if we could figure this out so we can get to practicing.”
“This isn’t settled yet,” Josh sternly told Sam. Then, he flopped around to face Jake, hurling the beans in his direction. It would have been a solid throw if Jake hadn’t slipped their dad’s old catcher’s mitt on while Josh was distracted, and caught the can before it could hit him in the chest.
“Why don’t you split up the song?” Danny stood in between Jake and Josh so they would stop throwing dangerous items at each other. “Switch at every verse.”
“I guess,” Jake murmured to the ground. Josh looked like he hated the idea, but didn’t protest.
“What song were you thinking of anyways?” Danny studied Jake.
“I wanna do a Fleet Foxes song,” Jake said. That seemed to get Josh to perk up.
“You’ve been listening to them?” he asked his brother, as if they hadn’t been out for each other’s blood less than a minute before. Jake looked back at him with a twinkle in his eye and nodded.
“You were totally right, they make shit that feels so raw and real at its core. I want to give them some love.”
“I told you you’d like it,” Josh told Jake. Then, he turned to Sam and Danny. “Same goes for you both.”
“Trust me, they’re heavy in my rotation,” Danny assured Josh. “Your Protector gives me chills every time I hear it.”
“This kid gets it,” Josh jutted his thumb in Danny’s direction. Then, he focused back on Jake. “So which song were you thinking? Blue Ridge Mountains? Helplessness Blues? Can I Believe You?”
“Ragged Wood,” Jake answered. Josh’s mouth formed into an “o.” “It’ll be bold to try and win an audience and judges over with an acoustic cover, but maybe that’s what we need to do to stand out.”
“Acoustic is a good way to show raw talent without hiding behind loud amps,” Sam thought aloud. He knew that for a fact because he was always scrutinizing his playing when it was acoustic. There was no hiding any of his mistakes.
“The kid is right,” Jake agreed with Sam. “We play a wholesome song to win more people over, and then we erupt like a volcano in round three. You know, if we get there and all.”
“Good, I thought you were gonna jinx us there,” Danny laughed at Jake.
“Why do you want to sing though?” Josh studied Jake. Sam could tell that Josh was still bothered that Jake wanted to take over his role in the band, even if it was only for one song. Jake tried to think carefully over his words.
“I want to challenge myself,” he replied. Danny looked at him with concern.
“Is this the best place to be doing that though? I mean, the stakes are kinda high. Maybe we would be better off playing it safe.”
“We’re a bunch of young guys,” Jake tried to defend himself. “When in history has anyone our age opted to play things safe? I think we need to go out there, guns a-blazing, and surprise not only our friends and family, but ourselves as well. We play our best when we’re testing out new things.”
“You mean when we’re stressed,” Sam spoke up.
“Kinda,” Jake’s face twisted.
“We’ll practice it a few times to see how we’re feeling,” Josh announced.
“What about the setlists for the other two rounds?” Danny asked.
“Nope,” Jake quickly interjected. “We can’t get too ahead of ourselves. We can figure it out if and when we get there. For now let’s focus on the songs we’ve got down now.”
Sam was more than ready to get practice in. It was what he had been waiting for all day. Danny, Josh, and Jake all repeatedly assured him that he was an incredible bass player, as did his friends and other family members, but Sam still had doubts buzzing around his head. Out of the rest of his band members, he felt the least experienced and, consequently, the most prone to make a mistake. He hoped that practicing for the rest of the day would kick his muscle memory into gear. That, and playing was often a good time for him to think about things. He hoped to gain some clarity on what was eating away at him concerning his future as they all plugged in their instruments and got ready to play.
“Ready for the most intense practice session of your life?” Josh called into his microphone, looking back at Danny, Jake, and Sam. Jake and Danny roared their approval and Sam gave a soft yeah. “Let’s not fuck up our futures!” Josh hollered, and then counted them in for their first run through of Fast Train Blues.
“Oh god,” Sam heaved out with worry. The music was too loud for anyone to hear him.
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