#I just think Mikey deserves a Klunk | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

turtle-titan · 7 months ago

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GOD YEAH THEY CAN’T EVEN LOOK UP ANYTHING BECAUSE THEIR KNOWLEDGE MIGHT AFFECT THE TIMELINE. i know they know The Journal is a fake now, but do you think it scared them a bit. thinking that they ruined everything?

PLEASE TAG ME WHEN YOU POST and if you need a beta i am Here for it. turtle titan ii and mike deserved to have more episodes so mikey can gain confidence that what he’s doing is impactful and important and the others can see it.

YES why was he not turtle titan in more episodes?? its an outlet for him to protect and interact with humanity without freaking them out too much, not to mention he has all his superhero friends. i love Membership Drive cuz mikey is like “hey we need help! i know a guy :)” and the superheroes came in their hour of need 😭 (granted, they were like,,, kinda ineffective but. i understand the need to nerf your superman knockoff so your main characters can shine).

yeah! the first 5 seasons managed to balance silly with serious but the last two seasons just veered waaaay too far into silly. you can make it More lighthearted than that *gestures at exodus/good genes/insane in the membrane/all the other angst* without completely REMOVING all of it. cuz it feels more like a weird vacation. they’re not too concerned with getting back, they’re just hanging out and having fun :/ which they deserve fun but Now is not the time.

yeah, leo only seemed to train cody, or else try to get the dark turtles to see they can be more than villains (which was an amazing concept but they only had ONE dedicated to the possibility - maybe if we got a second season of FF, they would have delved into it). especially after they “graduate” - he’s grown so much yet we don’t see much, if anything. we don’t even see regression :/ and they took away his scar in the FF/BTTS design :( like he went through SO MUCH and the writers act like it didn’t happen

i know in my heart april took klunk in but that doesn’t negate the fact mikey and klunk miss each other :(

mikey ask game, 8 and 13!

(these answers will be about 2k3 mikey unless stated otherwise because he's ~my~ mikey. i apologise for the length of these answers, it seems i had a lot to say?! i also apologise for how much i bring up fast forward here, it seems that i'm fixated on it really hard right now.)

8. what’s your favorite dynamic of him and any other character? what makes it your favorite?

It's so hard to pick just one!!

i thought a lot about this, but i think splinter? he's exasperated that his son can be a bit lazy and distracted from ninja training, but still had him specialise in nunchaku, showing that he believes in his ability to master a difficult weapon. splinter surrendering in the battle nexus so that mikey could advance was so heartwarming and honestly makes me emotional to remember. in the first turtle titan episode even though he doesn't understand why mikey admires superheroes so much he acknowledges that his intentions are noble and he needs to follow the path truest to his heart. veering a little more into headcanon territory, i do think that being the most openly affectionate, baby mikey was a master manipulator in terms of melting his rat dad's heart. i can picture him climbing onto splinter's lap every time he sits down and being the most reluctant to go down for naps. and in a particular au i'm cultivating that delves more into mikey's potential romantic life, i think he would go to his father for advice. splinter may not be well versed in romance outside of his soap operas, but he will always be here for his kids when they need him.

(this, of course, makes me very bitter over the flanderisation of their relationship in fast forward. ff!splinter might as well walk around wearing a shirt that says "i hate my lazy video game addicted son" and it breaks my heart.)

honourable mentions for other characters i think he has a great dynamic with: leo, silver sentry, klunk, serling, angel, april, renet and turtle titan ii.

13. what’s something about mikey that nobody seems to talk about that should be talked about more?

tbh i think a lot of people love mikey and have analysed him in just about every way possible and what i end up saying is probably not the most groundbreaking take, but here is something that i've thought about a fair bit but haven't really seen from anyone else?

in fast forward, mikey is depressed. it is handled by the narrative about as delicately as a bull in a china shop, but it's there.

5 seasons of being bombarded with trauma-inducing storylines culminates in temporarily dying, going full dragon avatar mode to defeat the demon shredder and then finally they are able to relax, breathe easy, process some of these emotions - but noooo, instead they get ripped out of their timeline and dropped 100 years in the future with no way home and the studio execs wouldnt let them rightfully lose their shit at cody so instead we see the turtles bottle that rage and slowly descend into semi-flanderised madness. /lh

mikey in particular becomes very sensitive to rejection (see: losing his goddamn mind and going on an all out offensive against turtle titan ii, after being talked down the first time he raged out, because raph made One Comment about how his successor is better at heroism than he is), prone to emotional outbursts, especially anger (remember that iconic clip of him beating up cops and stealing their cars because they pissed him off?), loses interest in his ninja training, maintains very poor hygiene/living conditions, grows addicted to video games, and in rare moments of vulnerability (namely in graduation day of 2105) he expresses that he sees himself as lazy, unfocused, a 'goofball', and undeserving when it comes to being recognised for his ninja skills like his brothers. my man's self-esteem is in the toilet, he is craving normalcy after years of constantly fighting for his life, and his dopamine is clearly critically low because he is dependent on all the fancy material goods of 2105 to be happy. his method of coping with the difficult emotions being stranded in the future has brought up, while still maintaining the silly funny guy routine that his family expect from him, is to bury himself in VR. and why wouldn't he, when among the uptick in mikey roasts over the course of this season we literally hear splinter say the words "where did i go wrong with that boy?" THOSE WORDS STAY WITH YOU WHEN THEY COME FROM YOUR PARENTS. THEY HURT.

he's very empathetic to leo's own depression in season 4, being the voice of reason at the beginning of samurai tourist when raph is ready to fight him. we also see at several points in seasons 1-5 that his loud ego is a front and he is actually very aware of his shortcomings, especially seen in grudge match. in a different timeline where 2k3 wasn't neutered following insane in the membrane, i do wonder if the turtles would have been able to explore their turbulent feelings regarding the 2105 situation. since mikey and leo are often paired up for adventures in 2k3, it would be an interesting parallel to see leo recognising signs of depression in his brother and helping him, imparting some of ancient one's wisdom (and, in the great year of 2105 where mutants are equal citizens and cody has money to burn, finding him a good cognitive behavioural therapist).

i don't think the writers INTENDED to code mikey as depressed / struggling to cope in season 6 - i think it was a toxic combo of writing more 'mikey is lazy/immature/irresponsible and needs to be taught a lesson' episodes than the usual season average + thinking it was a funny social commentary gag to make him obsessive over video games. but i saw a lot of those traits in myself when i was deep in a depression hole. the show has already told us that the turtles' mental states have been impacted by the ridiculousness they have gone through. why would mikey be any different?

I DIDN'T MEAN TO WRITE AN ENTIRE THINKPIECE, BUT IF YOU REACHED THE END, THANK YOU FOR READING. AND THANK YOU FOR THE ASKS!

#will i ever shut up about mikey? no #tmnt 2003 mikey #tmnt fast forward

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mamashenisfav · 4 years ago

Text

Fighting

Masterlist

"It's always the same Minho. You promise to take a day off from the Maze when I need you but you never do!" Today was one of the many times that Minho let you down when you needed him the most. Your friend Mikey got killed by a griever yesterday. Minho promised to stay in the Glade with you because you need him now, but when you woke up he was gone.

About an hour ago, he returned and he didn't even speak to you until he came back from the map room. You were crying almost the entire day because of the loss of your best friend and that klunk head of a boyfriend of yours didn't even look after you.

He finally decided to show up and you got angry at him because he pretended nothing happened.

"I'm sorry I'm the shucking keeper! They need me out there okay! I'm finding a way out of here for you! I'm sorry I find that important." Minho yells back at you.

"I only wanted you to be here for me! I don't even care you went to the Maze I'm only angry because you find the Map room more important than your own girlfriend!"

Minho rolls his eyes and stands up from the bed. He walks towards the window and looks at the working Gladers. "I don't think it's more important than you! I thought you wanted to be alone so I let you!"

"I don't want to be alone! Especially nod in times like this you shuck face!" "Well, maybe you should've given off the right signs then."

You stand up and walk towards the door of your room. "Where are you going?" Minho asks clearly annoyed. "To someone who does care about me. Newt!" You slam the door close behind you and run down the stairs. When you leave the homestead, your tears finally fall and you start sobbing uncontrollably, because of the loss of your best friend and fighting with Minho.

You walk towards Newt and when he sees you approaching he stops his work and takes you in his arms. "Minho?" "He's a shank." You say while you continue crying. Newt nods and softly rubbs over your back.

"Sshhhh everything will be okay. I promise." You slowly nod and rest your head on his shoulder. Newt proceeds to stroke your hair in a friendly gesture and you can feel that you're calming down. You stop crying and take a deep sigh when you step away from Newt.

"It's just, he pretends nothing happened and reacts all shocked when I get angry about it." Newt nods. "You've known his personality even before you started dating. You know how he is. He probably didn't mean to hurt you. You should go talk to him."

You nod. "Thanks Newt. I'll let you know how it went." Newt smiles and points towards the homestead.

You walk inside and upstairs. The door to your bedroom is slightly opened and you see Minho's back facing you. He's looking outside, but he turns around when he hears you entering the room. You're shocked to see tears in his eyes.

"Minho? Are you okay? What's wrong?" You walk to him and put your hand on his arm, but he steps away, out of your reach. "Why him? What does he have that I don't? Blonde hair? Why do you choose him over me?"

You narrow your eyes. "What are you talking about Minho? You mean Newt? He's one of my best friends! I would never choose him or anyone else for that matter over you!"

Minho rolls his wet eyes and looks outside the window again. "You were in his arms and he was touching your back." "He was calming me down. He was the one to tell me I should come back here and talk to you."

Minho looks at you again and folds his arms in front of his chest. "You know I only love you! I'm sorry I got angry earlier, but you can't blame me really. Please don't be mad at me Minho."

Minho sighs and unfolds his arms. He wraps them around your waist and kisses your cheek. "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you sweetheart. I promise, that from now on, I'll be the boyfriend you deserve."

You smile and stand on the tips of your toes. You kiss his lips softly. "It's okay. You're already the boyfriend I want."

Minho smiles. "I love you." "I love you too Minho."

#minho tmr #minho #the maze runner #minho x y/n #newt

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goodlucktai · 8 years ago

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The night will go on, my little windmill

fandom: TMNT IDW/2012

pairing: Woodyangelo (you can pry this ship from my cold dead fingers tbh)

@tmntflashfic‘s january challenge is “old friends, new futures,” so i wrote a new installment of my Closer AU because why not

google search “how many blink 182 lyrics can i incorporate into my fics before i get shot”

You aren't there when Mike shows his brothers the college acceptance letter. His bright, surprised delight left an impression in your house, a happy shadow that you wish you could bottle and keep, and similarly it seemed to lend him courage enough to face his family on his own.

You pace the whole house five times that night waiting for a phone call, nerves curdling sickly in the pit of your stomach—because you know Mike in the same way a compass knows true north, you know when something's wrong—and two hours after Mike left after dinner, he shows back up at your front door.

His eyes are red, sticky tear-tracks obvious even in the porch light. You shove open the screen door and wrap your arms around him. You trapped his hands between the two of you, so he can't hug you back—but he curls into your chest with a soft, sad intake of air, and presses his face into the warm hollow of your neck and shoulder, and curls shaking fingers into the front of your shirt.

You hold him for what feels like a long time.

“They don't want me to go,” he tells you miserably over a mug of hot cocoa. You meet your grandma's eyes over the top of his head. Her lips are pressed into a firm line, the dark blue of her eyes sympathetic and angry. “It's so far away.”

“Donnie went,” you point out, bristling with the unfairness of it all. “They didn't stop him.”

“Donnie ran away.” Mike's fingers curl around the packed warmth of his drink, eyes fixed on the wafting steam. “They didn't have a chance to stop him.”

And that, you think, with the slow burn of sudden inspiration, is a great idea.

“If you need anything,” grandpa says firmly, helping you pack the bed of your truck in the dark of one o'clock in the morning, “anything, you just give us a call.”

Your sleepy cousins are in their pajamas on the porch, hugging Mike because he was always like a second big brother to them, and he's kissing their soft foreheads around an affectionate smile. Grandma is inside, throwing together a cooler full of food for your long trip, and you slam the stubborn tailgate shut with so much love ballooned up inside of you that nothing feels impossible.

Grandma embraces you both at the same time in both arms, right there on the sidewalk, grandpa's coat thrown on over her nightgown. Grandpa pushes an envelope into your hands—its thick with cash, and he refuses to take it back. Your cousins tug you down for another round of hugs and kisses, and you squeeze them tight, missing them already.

Mike leans out the passenger side window of the truck, waving and waving at your family until you turn the corner and throw them out of sight.

Mike's house is dark, and the car is gone. You wonder if his brothers are out looking for him, and wonder why they didn't check at your house first. Mike unclips his seatbelt, pops open the door, and promises to be quick.

You leave the engine running, and watch the glowing clock on the dash.

It takes your best friend fourteen minutes to return, tossing a single duffle bag into the bed of the truck and climbing back into the warm cab with a cat carrier in his arms.

“They weren't home,” he says breathlessly, and his eyes are bright now—this one last hurdle leaped, he's finally beginning to believe that you're really doing this. Klunk is purring in a way that matches the grin on Mike's face, and you grin right back.

You stop at an ATM and drain Mike's savings into your checking account, just in case his brothers get any funny ideas. You both have a full ride through school, thanks to a plethora of scholarships and grants and one or two student loans, but it's something like twenty-six hours between Arizona and New York, and who knows what might happen.

You stop at a gas station to fill up the tank and send Mike in for convenience store food. Laugh when he comes back out with an arm full of energy drinks and microwave burritos, and catch the King Size Twix he tosses you over the roof of the truck.

You stop one more time, right on the edge of town, at the You Are Now Leaving... sign. The road ahead is dark, an endless stretch of country highway. Neither one of you looks back.

“Ready for this?” you ask him.

In response, Mike turns the radio on. Your phone is still plugged into the AUX, and within moments All The Small Things fills every inch of space in the cab that isn't already taken up by boy or cat or junk food.

Half of your best memories could fit right here, layered one on top of the other like photocopies, you in the driver's seat and Mike in the seat beside you, speeding in circles down the same road because there was no where else to go—fifteen, seventeen, nineteen years old—beating the same Blink-182 song to death over and over and over again.

Your smile is so wide your cheeks are aching. You shift back into drive and gun it forward, down a new road this time. Mike whoops once, then laughs, and then starts singing along mid-chorus, his voice the most familiar thing to you in the whole world.

You get lost almost immediately, because neither of you thought to buy a map, but Mikey's eyes are wide every time you pull into an unfamiliar city and you'd drive through every state in the country to keep that excited brilliance in his face.

The fall semester doesn't start for nearly a month—you have time to make a few detours. So you follow the road signs into Pheonix, and get there as morning dawns across the desert. You eat breakfast at a waffle house, spend the day lost in a giant mall, smuggle Klunk in Mike's hoodie everywhere you go.

After that, you stop in Albuquerque, and then Santa Fe. You drive with the windows down, unplug your phone and tune into different radio stations as you go. You turn off the road late for the night in Las Vegas, New Mexico, because Mike laughs when he sees the sign.

You make Mike hold his bag until you check the questionable motel room for bedbugs, but after that he's creeped out and refuses to sleep alone. He and Klunk crawl in with you without waiting for an invitation, and you roll your eyes and lean over him to turn the light off.

The linen sheets are more scratchy than soft, over-starched and bleached too many times, and the seafoam green of the walls glows almost neon when headlights pass through the thin curtains. You can't count how many nights you've slept like this in your life, with Mike pressed against your chest, breathing softly, mouth slack against your shirt, but he's never kept you up before.

He's warm, his brown skin dusky against the pale pillows in the dark, and you can't see his freckles even from this close but you could probably still count them if you tried.

In the morning, you wake up with Klunk nestled under your chin, and Mike shutting the door behind him with an apologetic grin.

“I meant to be back before you woke up,” he says, tossing the truck keys back on the lopsided nightstand. He's in his own skinny jeans and your over-large hoodie, curly hair a messy halo around his head. He holds up a plastic bag, amber eyes bright. “I picked up breakfast!”

You open a styrofoam container of scrambled eggs and French toast, a strip of bacon and two strawberries on top shaped like a smiley face, and you wonder what on earth you did to deserve him.

You pull back out onto I-25 North and follow it up toward Colorado. The music is down low this morning, and Mike has the atlas folded open on his knees, tracing the trip so far with a pink highlighter.

His phone is in the glove compartment. He turned it off after the seventh missed call, something tight and unhappy on his face, and there's still a pale shadow lingering there hours later.

You merge left sharply, just barely making the exit, and Mike squawks in surprise.

“Woah, where are we going?”

“You'll see,” you say, and turn off the interstate completely. Mike shifts Klunk out of the way and scoots the map closer to your side of the bench, just in case.

The Garden of the Gods ends up being a day-long stop. You wander some of the trails, and take an obscene amount of pictures, and make shapes out of the rock formations. Mike is flushed by the time closing hours are near, his face stretched into what might as well be a permanent smile, and you tap the arm of one of the two young women standing nearby.

“Do you mind taking our picture?” you ask her, holding out your phone.

She looks past you at Mike and then she smiles, the light of her own adventure bright in her eyes, and takes your phone. You turn to grab Mike's hand, and drag him up to the immense hoodoos, two towering, spire-like rocks that stand together and form a small open window where their edges don't quit meet.

“Tourists take pictures in it all the time,” you tell him, helping him climb up. “It's pretty much required while you're here.”

“Oh,” Mike says, voice soft. You sit opposite each other, knees bunched together, and then turn to smile for the camera. Mike never let go of your hand, and he's still holding it now. You can feel his heart beating through the press of his fingers, a little too fast.

You glance at him, sidelong, to make sure he's okay, and startle a little at how close he is. His face is radiant in the half-light, in the shadowed keyhole of the impossibly huge rocks you're sheltering in, and the fingers of his free hand find a home on your cheek.

Your breath catches.

There’s an eternity here, right here, in the careful way he touches you. You cover his hand with your own, and lean through the two inches of space left dividing you, hair flattening where your foreheads come together.

“You did all this for me 'cause you thought I was sad?” he asks, very quietly.

“Nah, Mikester. 'Cause I want you to be happy,” you say, no louder than him.

The woman hands your phone back, and she's covering a delighted smile with her fingers.

“You two look good together,” is all she says, and you grin, a little bit flustered, a whole lot pleased.

Mike wants to go shopping in the Visitor Center before you get back on the road, and the two of you compete to find the cheesiest, tackiest souvenirs. You end up buying the winner, a stuffed bighorn sheep in a little T-shirt that says, “Someone in Colorado loves you!” and Mike buys twelve dollars worth of 'famous fudge' because you both make bad choices.

You check into a motel and take Klunk inside, and have dinner at an Italian place downtown. The stuffed sheep comes with you, and the waiter laughs when he sees it presiding over the table. The dessert menu is long and impressive, and Mike is torn between semifreddo and panna cotta, so he gets one and you get the other and you sneak bites off each other's plates.

A hearty meal after a day of hiking after several days of driving has you flagging by the time you make it back to your motel room. You're ready for bed in about two minutes, and yawn a goodnight as Mike turns the lamp off.

Mike's voice wakes you up sometime later, in the dark timeless place between midnight and morning. You blink blearily, and lift your head, and find him sitting on the other bed with his phone to his ear, stroking Klunk's fur calmly.

“Do you want me to apologize?” he's saying quietly. “I worked so hard for this, and you were going to take it away from me. What am I supposed to apologize for?”

You're frozen, hardly daring to breathe. The silence is impossibly heavy, and you wish you could hear both sides of the conversation your friend is having. You wish you could see his face, see what new damage this is doing him.

“I'm nineteen, Leo,” is the next thing he says. “You can't stop me from going.” Another pause, and finally Mike's shoulders are hunching as he begins to bow under the weight of the argument, and you can only imagine what he's listening to. His voice is thick and hurt when he snaps, “Donnie was right to leave, and so was I!”

His face is briefly illuminated by the screen as he takes it away from his ear to jab the End Call button. He's not crying, but his eyes are bright and wet, and he rubs them with the sleeve of the hoodie he never gave back to you.

“Woody?” he says softly. “Are you awake?”

“Yeah, Mikester. Let's go get some ice cream.”

There's a 24-hour diner down the street. You walk there, close enough that your arms bump, close enough for Mike to slip his hand into yours while you're waiting for a light to change.

You thread your fingers through his and hold on tight. It would take a tornado to force you apart.

Close to Boulder, your truck starts making a pretty ugly grinding sound every time you turn. Mike bullies you into getting it checked out, and the weathered mechanic at the auto shop tells you that your steering column is all but shot.

“Been doing a lot of driving in that old girl recently?” he asks, and you nod, a little shame-faced. “We'll get her taken care of. You're gonna have to stay put for a little while, though.”

You call to let your grandparents know, and end up giving them the number of the auto shop. The mechanic is amused when he sees you the next day, and lets you know that the parts and labor have been paid for. The truck will be ready for the road in about four days, and until then you're stuck in Colorado.

“We're not in a hurry,” Mike reminds you, grinning a little. “Let's go find a place to stay.”

There's a roomshare on Craigstlist advertised for as cheap as twenty bucks a night, and you jump on it.

“After this, we're sleeping in the truck,” you tell Mike sternly, not really meaning it. It's not like you're strapped for cash. But he rolls his eyes and nods along anyway, tugging you towards the bus stop.

Mike's roommate is a pretty cool guy, ex-Marine by the looks of it, and happy to have Klunk sharing their space. He helps Mike set up a fold-away cot, laughing at the anecdotes of their roadtrip so far as Mike shares them, and you stay to make sure he'll be okay before heading into the other room for the night.

“Slash works thirds, so you probably won't see him tonight,” Leatherhead says, Klunk purring warmly in the crook of his arm. “If you need anything, don't be afraid to ask.”

The bed shifting wakes you up. Cool air wafts under the blanket as Mike climbs in next to you, and the mattress settles with his weight. The stupid sheep is under his arm, and his eyes are sleepless.

You push yourself up on one elbow and look down at him. There's a curl of dark hair flopped over one of his eyes, and you push it out of the way with your fingers.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Mike says, gazing at you. His voice is as reverent as it was in the Garden of the Gods, careful and quiet. “Woody?”

“Mikester?”

“I want you to be happy, too,” he says.

Kissing Mike in a stranger's bed at three a.m. skyrockets to the top of your list of favorite things.

He smiles against your mouth the whole time, and you thank god you broke down in Boulder.

#tmntflashfic #this kept getting longer????#also it turned into a roadtrip au bcus i have no control over my life evidently #tmnt idw #woodyangelo #my writing #closer au #tmnt fic

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