#Like with Mikey I find he's just a ball of positive energy with his expressions and poses

[tmntkiseki]

I have a Mikey doodle in the works since I realized it's been a while since I've drawn him.

No previews, but his expression is more or less this

[tmntxreader-fics]

TMNT Mikey X Reader: Gentle

Summary: Mikey has always been a ball of barely-contained energy for as long as he can remember. One day he realizes that while his brothers might be able to handle his playful roughhousing, he needs to be extra gentle with you. 

Requested by @deltajay​ - Hey if you're into could you write something involving the turtles (if you wanna do one raph for sure) about how they are interested/fascinated with how small (in comparison) their crushes/the readers hands are? It'd be super cute ❤

A/N: I’ll definitely go around the circle with ALL the boys for this one, (eventually- give or take a few decades). I just immediately thought of Mikey when I read this request and I neglect him completely with my writing so here we are! This was written real quick, sorry for the lack of descriptive writing.

Warnings: Lmao, fluff. Angst if you squint. Mild cursing. 

You love him, you observe for the millionth time, you truly do. 

When it comes down to it you know that you would do anything for him; you’d take the Shredder head-on without a second thought if he’d asked you to. You’d challenge armies, wage war against gods- you’d sacrifice everything for the orange-clad turtle. 

What you will not do is try his “pizza slushie.” 

“Hell no,” you exclaim, crawling backward along the length of the couch in an attempt to put distance between you both. 

“Oh, come on!” Mikey snorts, a mischevious glint in his eye. 

“Don’t ‘oh, come on’, me,” you scoff, grunting in surprise when your back collides against the sofa armrest. 

He raises the bottled slop into the air as if it were a prized trophy, “this is a glorious invention of mine and it’s your duty, as my designated girlfriend, to be supportive of me.” 

“Designated?” 

“All the greats have someone even greater backing them up,” Mikey continues over you with a lazy grin, well aware that you’re trapped between the couch and himself. 

“Have you even tried it?” You cry, pushing yourself up to perch precariously on the armrest. Your boyfriend’s cocky expression falters briefly, visibly freezing in place. 

“Yes,” he squeaks, lips stretching over his teeth in a fused smile/grimace. “Totally did!” 

“Like I’m going to ignore the fact that your speaking in falsetto,” you wheeze distractedly, blindly feeling for the floor behind you with one foot. “If you do drink that shit I will literally never kiss you again.” 

In an instant, the mood changes. You’d expected him to playfully tantrum about your statement, maybe even give up and dump the pizza slushie idea. You hadn’t expected his grimace to transform into a smirk, a hooded gaze replacing the previous wide-eyed expression he held. With a falsely-casual step towards your twisted position, your boyfriend places his prized pizza slushie on the ground.

“Never?”Mikey questions almost innocently. Your heart twists in your chest when he takes another step towards you, those baby-blue eyes observing your escape-ready position intently. 

“You couldn’t pay me,” you snark warily. When he takes another step you place your foot on the ground firmly, “stay right there, you over-sized candy corn.”

At this, he sputters, the cool and collected facade dissipating into thin air. “Did you just- candy corn! Legit?”  

“Yeah,” you say smugly, “legit, bro.” 

Before you can escape with the last word, as you had so meticulously planned, your boyfriend politely expresses his disagreement. By launching at you.

“Mikey!” You shriek as his fingers close around your entire upper arm and yank you forward, your body ripped in his direction as he falls onto his shell on the couch. Generally, you avoid tussling with the orange-clad turtle when possible. While he was vaguely aware of the size difference between you both, he doesn’t entirely grasp the concept of his superhuman strength and near-invulnerable demeanor in comparison to your very breakable self. 

Caught off guard by the strength behind his pull, you smack into his plastron with no grace or preparation whatsoever. You grit your teeth at the stinging sensation assaulting your palms and the side of your face.  “Ow!” you groan, “ow!”

As if your quietly hissed words were magical, the body beneath you freezes completely. 

“Shit,” he gasps instantly, tone inflected with rare solemnity. “Shit, are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you exclaim automatically, immediately leaping to reassure him. 

“You literally just said ‘ow’,” Mikey retorts, pitch steadily rising as he acknowledges the pain that he caused. He whispers your name raising his hands above his shoulders- away from you- “I’m so sorry!” 

“Mikey, relax,” you say with wide eyes, confronted by the sudden change in mood. “It’s fine, I’m okay. It just stung a little.” 

“Stung,” he repeats quietly, aqua eyes flickering away to meet the ground. “Babe, I’m really sorry.” 

“I’m fine, Mikey,” you murmur softly, hoping to relax the wildly beating heart beneath your splayed fingers with your tone. You watch as his jaw clenches and his soft gaze travels to your hands resting comfortably on his plastron. 

“Babe?” you call for his attention softly. 

Instead of replying, he slowly reaches for your hand and you find yourself immediately grasping one of his fingers, desperate for some sort of response. 

Mikey’s mouth parts slightly and he audibly exhales, flicking that gentle gaze back to meet yours, he says, “your hands are so small.” 

With slightly widened eyes, you laugh shortly. “Yeah,” you agree, slightly bewildered. “I guess they are in comparison to yours.” 

“I never really...” he trails off, teeth tugging the corner of his bottom lip. 

Slightly distracted by the sight you murmur, “you ‘never really’ what?” 

“I never really thought about it like that,” Mikey replies seriously before noticing your fixation on his mouth. With a quirk of his lips, he can’t help but melt beneath you. The weight of you grounding him from his panicked thoughts, barring any opportunity for them to whisk him away into spiraling oblivion. 

He feels safe with you. 

But, as he stares at the five fingers wrapped around just one of his, he realizes that in order for you to feel just as safe with him he needs to ease off. To hold you softly, be hyperaware of all of his hard edges. Play around with you carefully, being mindful of his strength. 

Most importantly, he would always touch you gently. 

And so, as he leans in to capture your lips with a supple, slow embrace, his hands move to do just that. 

[cremdotexe]

Rise of the TMNT review

Alright, So since I’ve heard that it’ll be a while before the next episode of comes out, I think this is the time to properly write my honest thoughts on Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles aka. TMNT 2018. Keep in mind that even though I will try to be as honest and clear cut as possible, these are still my thoughts and I meant no harm by it. Please respect that and read with a grain of salt. Thank you! The blog will go as follow

- Animation & Art style

- Storyline & Humor

- Character & Relationships

- Conclusions

The review will be under the cut

Animation & Art style

This. THIS. I personally think is one of the best thing about this new show, the animation is absolutely beautiful and fun.  With the use of bright colors and solid black shading, this art style have a comic kind of vibe to it. (Which is very appropriate, considering the show’s origin.) And while the character design did not sit right with me at first, It actually looks pretty great in motion.

What I like about the character design in particular is how different they are. You can tell right away who’s who right from the silhouettes, and that is absolutely key when it comes to character design because it sets the sense of individuality. Even though you might argue “Same silhouettes gives them the sense that the are a team.” and while I do agree to some level, I also think that this is not a bad thing either.

The best part though, is the animations. Specifically, the action sequences. I honestly didn’t expect this show to be that good but my jaw DROPPED when I saw the first action sequences. It’s so smooth and energetic just like how you expect an action cartoon to be. (Pause, yes I do realized that this is a comedy show, but it’s TMNT. obviously there will be fighting involved.) I mean, just look at the intro for example.  You can’t tell me that isn’t good quality animation, because it IS good and that is one thing I think most of us can agree on.

Storyline & Humor

The story is definitely on a weaker side when comparing this to the previous shows, The one shot story can be a hit or miss to some (For example, For me personally the hit was Down with the sickness and the miss was Repo Mantis.) There isn’t much going on for plot as of now. BUT the show have already shown itself to have continuity, although not big. Plus, This is only the first few episodes of the first season. There are many other shows that starts to pick up on plot later in the season or after the first season.

The humor though, is a different story. I like the humor of this show, I find it entertaining without feeling like it was forced. I find the dialogues and timing to be one of the best when it comes to this topic and probably why Leo and Donnie are my favorite characters out of the cast, Leo’s one-liners never really felt out of place, It’s light-hearted the the humor comes from the aftermath such as the reaction he gets. Donnie’s on the other hand is some what darker and cruder, flat humor if you will. His ‘jokes’ are never really jokes but his dialogue are naturally funny without anyone really reacting to it. Sadly, While Raph and Mikey had some moments to shine, I didn’t find them as ‘funny’ per se.

Characters & Relationships

For this section, I’ll talk about the main characters individually and how I feel about them THEN a summary of their relationships, Here we go.

Raph: The Leader of this new show, Or more so the automatic leader due to him being the eldest of the 4. Raph in this version doesn’t seem to have any anger issues and instead act like the strong leader figure for the rest of the team, He’s shown to be very kind and supportive. (And he loves small animals like c’mon.) All I could really say is I like this version of Raph as of now, I think he’s an overall good character.

Donnie: This is the character that I would go up and ask “What happened to you.” Because he isn’t the gentle being that deserved better like in the 2003 or 2012 version and instead, he’s basically insane and I mean that in the best way possible. His dialogues is one of the best in the cartoons that I’ve watch and his over the top vibe of “I will kill you with zero hesitation” is very entertaining and the timing is almost always perfect. He is the funniest (for me) for sure.

Leo: I will say it now, Leo is my favorite of out the whole cast. Not for the humor, but rather how complex his character actually is when you look into it. He isn’t just a comic relief, Leo had proved himself to be more intelligent than he had let on. He had shown multiple qualities of a natural leader AND a good ninja such as quick-thinking skills, motivational and fast reflexes, and he said that he doesn’t even train. He can be the leader, but he doesn’t want to as of now and I think that aspect of his character is very interesting.

Mikey: How I will describe Mikey is that he is like an innocent child with good heart, He’s the heart of the team for sure. While I do really love Mikey, I don’t have much to say about him because sadly, he didn’t stand out as much as say Donnie or Leo did. He seems to be more of a follow the crowd kinda guy and that’s hard for me to analyze.

April: I like this April, I like her head-strong personality and her pure energy almost shot through the screen. April can pull her own weight while still knowing how to work as a team, She isn’t too over baring but not too bland. I find her relationship with the turtles to be natural and I like that she doesn’t feel like she’s just there for the sake of existing. She’s definitely one of the best April out there, for me.

Splinter: Lets be honest here, does anyone expect this to be all positive? I’m sorry but he’s my least favorite out of the main cast. I simply don’t like how he is portrayed: child-like. I think he should atleast be more mature, HOWEVER, I will give it to him that he clearly have a close relationship with his son. You can say he’s a bad teacher, but he certainly isn’t a bad father.

How I would describe the relationship between the brothers is: 2012 TMNT is the sibling relationship you have and the 2018 TMNT is the sibling relationship you WANT to have. The brothers clearly care deeply about eachother in both version, sure. But the 2018 cast actually express it and I find that very admirable, You can clearly tell that while they’re different they really do love each other like a family.

In conclusion

While I don’t enjoy this show as a drama/action show like I did with the 2012, I absolutely enjoy it as the comedy/action this show is clearly aiming for. There are some things that still bothers me like the current absence of deep plot, I genuinely liked the change and I admire the fact that the writers had the balls to write something different for us to enjoy instead of going the safe route. I think if anything we should support that, I really do. I love this show so far and if you don’t, That’s fine too! because all of us will enjoy different things but that doesn’t mean that we have to go hate on the creators because we don’t like it or say disrespectful things to people who doesn’t enjoy it because we liked it. So please, respect each other. That concludes my rise of the tmnt review, thanks for reading and peace out.

[mmkelleywrites]

Rose’s Whisper

The house seemed like an absolute miracle, the asking price was unbelievably low, the sellers had remodeled most of the house to try to entice buyers and the yard was absolutely enormous, surrounded by vacant, wooded lots on three sides. We were in a tight spot, the seller of the house we were buying backed out at the last minute. The house we were in was in closing. It was the most welcoming vacant house I’d ever seen. Even from the first night, with only boxes and no furniture in place, it was home. There were no nights of unfamiliar noises breaking our slumber.

    Shortly after the move, I started my junior year of highschool. I didn’t know anyone in this sleepy little town yet. The move was sufficiently far away none of my friends were close enough to even visit. It was pretty average, people were too busy with their own business to really notice me. At lunch on the first day a pale girl sat down across from me.

“I’ve never seen you here before.”

“I just moved here a few weeks ago,” I admitted.

She nodded along, pulling her arms into her black TSOL shirt. I watched her squirm in her seat, and try to shake the tuft of auburn that hung from an otherwise shaved head out of her face.

“Why Pinehurst?” she asked with more than a tinge of disgust.

I shrugged, “My parents just really loved the house and happened to find better jobs around here.”

“What house?” she probed, skeptically.

“The big purple house on Garden Row.”

She came to life, her eyes lit up, her flat expression turned to the most infectious smile.

“You’re telling me you live in Rose’s House?” she laughed.

“Rose’s House?” I was lost.

“It’s the haunted house!” she exclaimed before launching into a barrage of questions. “Have you seen the lady in the bright red dress? Has she been calling for her lost lover? When I broke into it back when it was still abandoned, I totally saw her in a mirror behind me!”

“Slow down there, Egon.” I said with a laugh, “I haven’t seen anything like that.”

“Just you wait! You’ll see her!”

She practically dripped with excitement as she climbed over the lunch table, plopped down next to me and flung her arm around me.

“Ghosts aren’t real.” I reminded her, trying to wiggle from her grasp.

“Just. You. Wait.” she shot me finger guns and a wink.

    The lunch bell rang and everyone dispersed to their schedules. I decided not to share my residence with anyone else for awhile. I kept thinking about how sure she was, how she said that she saw the lady in red before. Were those shadows that we see from the corner of our eyes really the lady in red? Had I explained away something terrifying? I was on high alert when I got off the bus. I carefully observed every window in the house, searching for movement, silhouettes, anything that might tell me there was something in the house.

    Our entire house was still as I slipped through the door as quietly as I could. I checked behind me so often I felt like I was spinning. I crept down the hallway, peeking into each room from the edge of the door frame. I winced with each creak of the floor. Then came a sharp snapping sound that echoed through the house. I scrambled into my room and hide behind my bed. Silence swept back through the house.

    It took me a few minutes to get my bearings. I absolutely knew there were no such thing as ghosts and I needed to step up and be an adult about it. I marched back into the hallway with a hair straightener in my hand. The door at the end of the hallway slammed shut. I started to scream, but managed to pull it together and yelled into the house.

“Who the fucks there?!” I bellowed down the hall.

I ran down the hall, breaking the silence with the thuds of my feet. I ripped the door open and swung my implement of destruction wildly for anyone in there to catch. It was our home office, and it was completely empty. Someone had left the window open, the curtain was snapping in the wind, and the wind probably slammed the door. I threw myself into the office chair and sat the hair straightener down.

“Jesus, what’s wrong with you!” I said into my hands with an aggravated growl.

    My stomach sank, now there was the distinct sound of a person coming down the hallway. A strange yet familiar voice called out, “Hey, you alright back there?”

    I grabbed my straightener and peaked out into the hall. I should have known by the clunk of her boots.

“What the fuck are you doing?” I said, holding my chest as my anxiety leveled out for the third time.

“I… uh… “ she stammered, trying to find a reason to be at my home.

“I told you there’s no ghost here.”

    Her face was red, she chewed her bottom lip. “Well, there is,” she said matter of factly, “but that’s not why I came over. You did tell me where you live, I figured you wanted to hang out.”

    She was an odd duck. We sat out on the patio in the back of the house. It was honestly the fastest I’ve ever become friends with someone. The only girl named Johnnie I’d ever met, she hung onto my every word and I hung onto hers. We’d been talking for what felt like minutes but had stretched into hours when she jumped up from the swing.

“Do you smell that?” she asked with a grin.

“I thought it was you.”

    She took off towards the woods and yelled back for me to hurry up. I ran after her. It didn’t take long before I found her in a clearing with an absolutely massive rose bush. The buds were equally disproportionate, some of them as big as dinner plates. Its thorny tendrils stretched across the clearing, it seemed like nothing else wanted to live near it. Johnnie reached out and was stroking one of the large flowers to be.

“Laura?” I heard my mom call from the house.

    I turned to look towards the house, “I’m back here with a friend.”

        The bush shook violently. I jerked around and Johnnie had tripped over one of its sprawling vines and into the thorny bush. I dug her out, but the thorns had done a number on her arms. I helped her back to our bathroom to clean her wounds.

“Ow!” She exclaimed as I dabbed peroxide on her arm.

“Not as tough as you look?” I asked with a laugh.

“Can I ask your parents if they've seen Rose?”

I jabbed one of her cuts with a cotton ball. “You have a problem.”

She stayed for dinner that night. My parents loved her like a second daughter from the first hello. Johnnie was unlike any other person I'd ever met. She treated everyone she ever met like they'd been with her their entire life. My parents basically let her crash at our house as often as she wanted. They wouldn’t have really noticed anyway, the workaholics that they were. I think they liked that I had someone around to keep me company.

After a couple of nights, I caved. “Johns, what exactly is Rose?”

    I thought she was going lay an egg. She squealed with absolute delight. “Did you see her? Is that why you want to know?”

    “No, I just know you’re really into it and wanted to know why.”

        “Well! Let me tell you! This was one of the first houses in Pinehurst. That’s why it seems so much older than most of them. Eventually they sold more and more of the land and people built more homes up around it.”

    “So, the house is haunted because it’s creepy?” I asked flat and unimpressed.

    “I’m getting to it! So! Rose was a resident here after they’d broken up the big land parcel. She was a single woman, no kids. Which was a little strange but not unheard of when she lived her. Unfortunately, she had a very early mental decline.”

    “Like Alzheimerz?” I asked.

    “I don’t know, but at first she was still her friendly self, then she had a little bit where she was just kind of a husk. Out of no where, she started lashing out at the nurses who’d come to take care of her. She’d hit them, she’d scratch them. Most of them didn’t do more than a few shifts in a row with Rose before they’d take a break.”

    “Why didn’t they put her in a home or something?”

    “Do you know where the nearest home or asylum is to Pinehurst?” she asked before continuing, “It all culminated in one of the nurses getting killed. Her fingernails had gotten a little too long and went a little too deep. This was before cellphones, they didn’t have constant contact. Her agency assumed everything was business as normal. Rose was alone with the body for a few days, as that was the nurse who was scheduled for that block. When the next nurse came a couple days later, she found Rose gnawing at the flesh.”

    “SHE FUCKING ATE HER?!” I screamed, clearly too drawn into the story now.

    “Not so loud, she’ll hear you,” she said with a wink, “She attacked the second nurse as she called the police. She fended her off, but Rose fell and hit her head. Ever since, people in Pinehurst say they see her looking out of the windows, watching her neighbors and admiring her garden. If she catches you in her house, tho--”

    “It’s our house! We live here!” I cried.

    “She’ll make you feel every bit of emotion you’ve ever felt. It call comes racing into the forefront of your mind, paralyzing you. Then, she feasts again.” she growled that last part with a grimace.

    “How do they know what happens if she eats you?” I asked, with a jarring clarity.

    “Maybe one kid saw it happen to another and escaped while she was tearing into his friend?” she mused.

    “Why are you so into this stuff?” I asked, honestly curious.

    “Well, I always loved ghosts and scary shit,” she admitted, “but when we were kids, I dared my brother Mikey to break in here.”

    “I haven’t met your brother yet?” I asked, a little hurt.

    “He… uh… well…”

        She was struggling to find the words. It looked like every time she found one, it got caught in her throat and fell back down to her darkest depths. I hugged her and shushed her.

    “You can tell me when it’s time.” I assured her, she nodded into my neck.

Night after night we stayed up into the wee hours of the night, vigilant until dawn broke. I didn’t believe in Rose. Ghosts were for campfire stories. Even still, I was sucked in by the energy that she threw towards trying to show me what she absolutely knew. One night, she was positive we’d found Rose. There was a rustling outside, we charged out like warriors. The raccoon rummaging through the flower beds was more of a warrior than we.

“Laaaauraaaa…” I heard Johnnie’s voice call out to me from the darkness.

    Our wide eyes locked. Johnnie mouthed “What the fuck?” to me.

“Laaauraaaa...” the words drifted through the night air a second time.

It felt like it was coming from the house or the backyard. She gripped my hand with white knuckles as we bolted into the house. She held the door open for me and locked it as soon as we were both inside.

    Once we were inside, Johnnie’s terror had transformed into bliss, she grabbed my arms and gave me a shake with an excited scream. Mine had not.

“She called for you!” she squealed and jumped up and down, “I told you she was real!”

“Why did it sound like you?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“She’s trying to luuuure you!” she cackled.

        I sat there on the couch and stared at the floor.

“C’mon!” she tugged me by the arm, “Let’s go find out who it was. Ghosts, aren’t real, right?”

    I shook myself and jumped up with her, of course she was right. Ghosts aren’t real, they’re just stories to scare kids like Santa or Barbara Streisand. We crept through the house. Just my mom in the office, she assured us it wasn’t her that was calling for me, nor did she hear anyone calling my name. We swept the backyard with a flashlight we keep for walking our dog at night. Nothing. We spent the rest of the night watching movies. I don’t think you could have pried me off of Johnnie with a crowbar that night.

The ghost hunts chilled out, even as fall moved in and Halloween was upon us. No more voices, not even false alarms. We ate lunch every weekend back in our secret grotto. The buds grew bigger, but never blossomed, even into October. I tried a few times to find out what kind of flower it was, but it certainly wasn’t native to North America.

For Halloween we were attending a party at a friend's house. Johnnie had ran home to pick up a few accessories for her costume. I was finishing up my make up, Raggedy Anne to go with my curly red hair, and heard Johnnie call my name from down the hall.

“I'm in the hall bathroom!” I bellowed down the hall.

No one answered for a few minutes. I finished painting my face before I went looking for Johnnie. I called out for her from the top of the steps.

“Johnnie!” echoed back up the staircase.

    I froze, I couldn’t figure register who the voice belonged to. It rang out again, calling for Johnnie. Simply hearing the voice made me queasy, it was so familiar, yet alien.

“Laura? I just got here, what's up?” Johnnie’s voiced called out.

“Oh Jesus.” I said into my hand.

    Frozen at the top of the stairs, I stared down at the landing. Then, Johnnie appeared at the bottom. I pointed to my chest and shook my head. She motioned for me to come with her. I scrambled down to her. She kept her calm and ushered me to the Halloween party. Even under thick make up, more than a few people said I looked like I’d seen a ghost.

“I’ve never *seen* a ghost,” I assured them.

We tried to avoid being in the house after that. We crashed at the Halloween party that night. I felt safer with Johnnie with me. Looking back, the voices were unnerving, but they didn’t feel malicious.

Thanksgiving was coming up fast. Pinehurst was bathed in oranges, browns and gold. Except for the little alcove behind my house. The trees were thick enough to hide it, but that immediate area stayed green. One of the blooms was swollen, the green casing stretched thing with the petals inside pressing outward. I watched it blossom a few days before Thanksgiving. Johnnie had went on a store run and I was still avoiding being in the house by myself. It unfolded delicately in a plume of red, each petal waving into place. The flower itself was a dull beige oval after the first couple of layers of red. Closer inspection revealed another oddity; it had three stamen instead of the usual one. Two on the top semi close to each other, and one farther down, a little larger than the other two.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. Johnnie was back. I helped her get the things for Thanksgiving put away. Then, I told her that the bush in the back had bloomed, and about it’s peculiar hue and anatomy. Naturally I took her to see the rarity in our backyard. She loved weird. When we breached the woods into the clearing, her joking stopped when she saw the bloom.

“What the fuck?” she screamed, running to the plant.

The beige petals of the bloom had folded and laid across each other. It was a face. A young boy that looked strikingly like Johnnie. My heart sank. She cradled the bloom in her hand, her eyes were already swollen and red with tears. She looked to me with eyes that crushed my soul. I dropped to my knees next to her, embracing her.

“It looks like Mikey” she she mumbled, “it… it looks like Mikey...”

“Who?”

“It looks like Mikey,” she reiterated, “It. Looks. Like. Mikey.”

“Johnnie, who is Mikey?” I pushed.

“He - My - He went -” she sputtered, “My brother who went missing.”

She’d mentioned a missing brother, but never a name or shown a picture. I always assumed she was too young when he went missing to have remembered much of him. Maybe she had been, and that flower brought it all raging back. The petals wiggled. Writhed? I don’t really know what to call it, but his--it’s? mouth started opening and closing, like a guppy gasping at the water. We both tumbled back into the dirt, Johnnie shaking in my arms. I could scarcely pull my attention from the monstrousity to notice the sunlight being devoured by the encroaching shadows.

“Wuh… wuh…” the flower wheezed.

I started shooting back towards the house, adrenaline giving me the ability to drag a paralyzed and hysterical Johnnie backwards. Until we hit a wall of thicket. I drug us both to our feet and surveyed the area. We were surrounded. I couldn't see the house. The woody vegetation stretched up into the tree tops and tangled until I couldn't see the sun or clouds. Everywhere I looked was obscured by branches and brambles.

“Why… why…?” it moaned.

Johnnie went limp in my arms. I couldn’t hold her dead weight, I couldn’t do much but slow her crumpling to the ground. There was a thorny tendril creeping towards her.

“Why did you let me?” It groaned at her unconscious body.

I stomped and kicked the vine. It wouldn't be dissuaded from it's pursuit. I grabbed it. I yanked and jerked on it, I tried to pull it in the opposite direction, despite the thorns cutting my palms. I screamed her name until I was hoarse. She wouldn't stir no matter how loud I screamed.

Another blossom unfurled in front of me. Johnnie. It was Johnnie staring at me through the brilliantly colored petals. I stood there in awe. Then I felt everything. Literally every thought, every feeling I'd ever had about Johnnie surged through me. It was beautiful, it was horrifying, it left me on my knees with tears streaming down my cheeks. I couldn’t find the strength to move a single muscle.

I forced my eyes shut. I refused to acknowledge it even existed. I knew she was on the other side of the bush. I rose to my feet, I was weak and shaking, but I made it. I looked away from the shrub. The vines had wrapped around her ankles and were inching her through the packed dirt towards its base. I wobbled and stumbled towards her, keeping a wide breadth from that thing.  I tried to snap the vine, but now it was thicker, heavier. It was like trying to sway a steel cable from its anchor.

It felt like everything went black. That moment of struggle made me absolutely know what “drowning in sorrow” felt like. I distinctly remember the ground tearing open, like a little Hollywood earthquake. The roots twisted and writhed, covered in white thorns and hooks. I grabbed a long stick and jammed it into the gnarled mass of roots. It recoiled, just long enough for me to drag Johnnie back away from it. I found a small gap in the twisted wood that had walled us in with it, I managed to squeeze through then pull her through behind me.  

I screamed her name as I inched her limp body down the trail towards the house. I remembered it as just a short walk, but now it was miles. Eventually I had to stop. I couldn’t drag on any further, I propped her up against a tree and sat next to her. It was quiet. No rustling, no voices. She started to come to as I layed in the dirt.

“Mikey?” she mumbled with drowsiness clouding her mind. Then her eyes shot open and she punched my shoulder, “Mikey?! Where the fuck did he go?”

    I shook my head, “That was just the roses, Johnnie. It was trying to drag you into its roots.”

“How did it know?” she started sobbing, “Did it get him?”

“I- I don’t know. It showed me your face.”

    I ushered her back to the house. She wept and wept. I cried with her. What was happening at my backdoor didn’t dawn on me until we were on top of it. The two rose bushes that flanked the door were no longer dormant. Lush and green, their branches were drooping with heavy buds.

“Noo..no no no” I stammered, supporting some of Johnnies weight.

“What now?”

    The plant on the left’s bloom unfurled. A small forehead, slightly pointy nose and thin lips folded out of the delicate petals. The one on the right a strong jawline, wide nose, deep set eyes. Mom. Dad. The petals annealed together, forming perfect replicas of my parents right down to their skin tone.

“Giiiirls,” my mom’s voice cracked, “It’s time for supper!”

    My dad’s voice cackled and carried through our yard. I’d never heard him sound like that before. It was his voice, but it was not my father. I clutched Johnnie close.

“C’mon, girls!” his voice called out, “Help me with the flower beds!”

“Laura! Johnnie!” my mother’s voice followed up, “Come look at these beautiful roses!”

    Johnnie stood on her own. I could see the exhaustion, the same that was starting to weigh me down. Whatever that thing was, it’d taken too much. Too much from me, too much from Johnnie, too much from everyone who’d ever found it. I ran for the shed that my dad put back by the woods. The gas can for the lawn mower was full.

“Girls! We found what you've been hiding!” My father's words mocking, drenched in sarcasm.

“You shouldn't have dared me to go!” a small voice I didn't recognize called out.

Johnnie looked like she'd been punched in the gut. She clenched my arm tight enough to cut off circulation. I shook my head to her. “It’s not him, not anymore, anyway…”

She swallowed it all. We trudged on. It whipped at us with stray vines, the trail was even longer than it was mere moments ago. Each sharp lash drove away Johnnie’s sorrow. We grew more resolute that this had to be solved tonight. I lugged it back to the clearing as fast as I could. The living walls had retreated, the ground was still open, the tangle of roots gnashing in the void of soil.

“Come join us all down here!” a legion of voices echoed from the pit.

    I unscrewed the nozzle and threw the metal gas can in. The hungry roots shredded it into ribbons. Johnnie lit the trail of gas with a lighter she always carried with her. The fire shot into the hole, then erupted out like a volcano. We were surrounded by pained wails, I could see faces hanging from the plant, screaming as they burned. I could hear Mikey’s voice, Mom’s, and Dad’s too amongst the cacophony of the lost. I heard my voice and Johnnies voice distinctly, along with an innumerable mix of others. We watched it burn.

    The path back to the house was short again. There were sirens coming towards us. The house was on fire, plants around the house were also ablaze. They must have been connected through the roots. We met the firemen in the front yard. They heard the painful wails too, but never found the living people they thought they were going to find. Neither us, nor the firemen were prepared for what we found in the tree in the front yard.

    My mom and dad were both in that tree. Crucified by a thick tangle of now burning vines. The vines were bursting through their skin, coming out of their mouths. Terror and confusion were permanently sculpted on their faces. I broke down. Johnnie held it together for me in the moment, and broke down with me again later at her house. The flames burned for days. When everything was done, bones started popping up. In all the places that were previously plants. They identified Johnnie’s brother based on dental records, he’d gotten caught up in the old green house in the backyard.

        I moved in with Johnnie and her parents, I helped them with arrangements, and they helped me. Next year we’ll hopefully be roommates at the same college. I can’t say it’s been easy without my parents. I love Johnnie and her family, but it’s still a void that I know will never be filled. It’s hard to know that my Dad will never have the chance to walk me down the aisle, or that we’ll never get to see Mikey graduate. Johnnie never got a chance to try Mom’s world famous banana bread. The only real solace either of us gets is that maybe, when we burned that thing, we set them all free somehow.

[tmntreasures]

Honor Among Thieves Ch.4

     Over the next couple of days, Aida did everything she could to absorb all that Bonnie had to teach her. She had to admit, it was more than she expected, but it was fascinating as well.  

     Time flew by and it was the night of the heist. Aida had her hair up in a tight bun, the rest of her hair covered with a black bandanna. She wore a black tank-top, black gloves, tights and boots. Easy to maneuver but also helpful for her to blend in to the shadows with. She was on a rooftop with Bonnie, just a couple of buildings away from their target. She watched her mentor go over the plan once more with her arms crossed.

     "Our escape will be through the third window on the east side of the building… Here hold this." Bonnie said and handed the map over to Aida. She then tightened the knot on her bandanna and threw the tails over her shoulder. "If everything goes as planned, we should be out within twenty-seven minutes."

     The girl nodded and looked over the map, trying her best to memorize everything. "Right. Sounds good," She rolled up the map and stuff it down her tank top. "And if there's trouble, we scatter right?"

     "Right. There less likely to capture either of us if we go separate ways. If you're able to make it out, we'll meet back up on Grey St. It's just pass--" Bonnie stopped in her tracks suddenly and put an arm out in front of Aida.

     Aida paused in her steps, surprised by the arm in front of her. "What's up? Something wrong?" Her blood ran cold for a second as paranoia took over. "Are the cops here?"

     "Be quiet and look ahead." Bonnie hissed. "We're not alone."

     Aida gulped, perplexed at the idea of something going wrong already. She looked off the rooftop, trying to see what could possibly be giving Bonnie pause. 

     At first she saw nothing and no one; just the stark bank building below. However, she finally noticed the door of the bank open. She furrowed her brow and saw a couple of figures dressed in black coming out. Their hands full of over-stuffed bags, which they threw into the back of a parked van. 

     "No way...!" She breathed. "Someone's takin' our hit!"

     Bonnie furrowed her brows in disappointment and growled lowly. "Hmm... There's nothing we can do about it. They out number us. Let’s turn back." She said as she was turning around. She stopped on her heel and took a sharp breath when she noticed there were more of the men dressed in black, standing behind them.

     "Ah… Really out numbered." She murmured.

     Aida jumped at the sight of the other men. She didn't even hear them approach. She tried to take a step back, but her heel met the edge of the rooftop. "You wouldn't have happened to piss a gang huh?" Aida grumbled, getting herself ready for a fight. She wasn't sure she would hold her own, but if she could get even one of them down, she would call it a victory.

     "Me? Piss off somebody? Neverrrr..." She said sarcastically and held a hand to her chest.

     One of the men move forward from the group and held out a hand to the girls. "Alright, give us all you've got." He ordered.

     "Well… It would be nothing because we were going hit this place up!" Bonnie crossed her arms. "Buuut, you beat us to it!" She shook a playful finger at the man and laughed nervously.

     Aida nodded, "So we're just gonna get goin'. Now move boys, we need to get off this roof!" She waved her hand at them, putting up a front.

     The black clad man was silent a moment before replying. "Well, you do have something you could give us." He said suggestively and made an advancement towards the girls.

     Bonnies' expression quickly turned sour and she snarled at the man. She reached behind her and pulled out the same switchblade that she was going to use on Aida before and pointed it towards him. "You need to back the fuck up!" She growled.

     Aida felt her face turn red at his suggestion and growled a little. "Of course...Métetelo por el cul!" She yelled at them. 

     A couple of the masked men charged at the girls. The younger girl let out a surprised squeak before side-stepping out of the way to give herself more room to fight.  She got her fists up, ready to defend herself; she had been in a couple of street fights before, but these guys looked serious and well-trained. For the time being, she did her best to just avoid getting hit and wait for an opening.

     Bonnie made a couple of slashes at the man who came at her. He easily dodge her attacks and even managed to snatch the knife out of her hand and used it against her. With one quick swing, he successfully slashed at Bonnies’ side cutting a deep wound. She let out a painful scream and held her side.

     "Aah..." She hissed. While tending to her wound, two other men snuck up on her and grabbed her from behind. She screamed again and tried to fight them off by shoving and kicking at the assailants, but they weren’t phased by her strikes. The girl was fast, but because of that she never really had to face a fight, and it was showing here.

     "Bonnie!" Aida cried and dipped around her own attacker, jumping on the back of one of the men who had her mentor in their grip. She wrapped her arm around his neck and held on tight, feeling his adam's apple against her arm. 

     The man huffed and wheezed as he tried to pull her off her, but it took another one of the assailants’ assistance. He grabbed her by the hair and yanked her to the ground. She managed to get a punch in before he pulled her to the ground but he retaliated with a foot to her head. He then switched to her gut, kicking it several times over. She cried out and tried to curl into the fetal position to protect her stomach.

     "Let fucking go of me!" Bonnie screamed out as she struggled against the man that still had a hold on her.

     Out of nowhere a flash of light went off, followed by a hissing noise and an explosion of white smoke. Bonnie gasped a little, surprised by the smoke, but was soon choked by it. She coughed repeatedly and hard, not even realizing the weight of the man who was holding her down was suddenly gone. There was a lot of, whish, whud, and thud, noises going off the background, but she wasn't able to make out anything through her watery eyes and smoke. A few moments later the smoke cleared and all the assailants were lying on the rooftop, knocked out cold. Bonnie laid alongside one of them, and stared out confused while holding her wound. 

     "Don't worry babe, I've got you..." A familiar voice cooed as they reached down to pick Aida up.

     Bonnie narrowed her eyes and groaned, realizing who the voice was coming from. "You gotta be fucking kidding me..." She mumbled

     Aida groaned from the pain in her stomach, her vision going in and out from the intensity. She felt something lift her but she did not have the energy to fight back. Instead she whimpered, the sudden shift making her stomach do flips.

     "Of fucking course..." A low voice grumbled. "They're in pretty bad shape Mikey..."

     "Wait you know these two?" This time an unfamiliar voice spoke.

     "Welll... Uh... Yeah, kinda." Michelangelo winced. "They're the two thieves we've been running into."

     Bonnie stayed quiet and closed her eyes. Pretending that she passed out, so she could listen in on their conversation without them knowing that she was. Hopefully...

     "We should take them to the lair," Raphael stated.

     Donatello walked over to the girl on the ground and at the cut on her side. He winced and then looked at the second girl Michelangelo had. His brother was right; they were both in pretty bad shape. "They do need assistance ASAP, Leo..." He pleaded with their leader. "One will bleed out and the other might have a concussion." 

     Bonnie eyes opened a little when the creatures mentioned taking the two of them somewhere. "Uhm... Actually, a hospital might be better."  She croaked out.

     Leo looked down at the girl, and thought about the situation for a brief moment before speaking up again. "Round her up Raph." He nodded.

     Raphael huffed and crossed his arms. "Why do I have to carry her?"

     "Well considering that you let her go twice now… I figured, third time’s a charm right? Or are you gonna let her go again? The beaten, bloody, thief." He taunted.

     Bonnie couldn't help but to smirk a little at the response.  She was proud that she was able to out maneuver the beast so far.

     The red-clad turtle practically snarled at his older brother before taking the girl in his arms, not being careful at all. His hands gripped her leg and arm tightly, almost afraid she actually would find a way to get away. He glared at Leonardo, gritting his teeth together.  

     Donatello stepped in between the red and blue brothers, trying to break the tension. "Okay! SO we should get moving soon. Cops are on their way right now."

     "Cops...?" Aida managed to groan out. She tried to push herself out of the monster's grasp but her head and stomach forced her back down. "Puta mierda, eso duele!"

     "Ssh, ssh...” Mikey held up a finger to Aida. "Don't worry, we're not turning you in. Not yet a least." He winked at her.

     "Aa-Aah! Son of a bitch!" Bonnie hissed and slapped at the red turtles shoulder when he grabbed her so tightly. It only made the pain in her side worse though, and she gritted her teeth. "Never heard of the princess hold, have ya?!" She spit.

     Raph glanced down at her and huffed. "Oh please. You're far from being a princess. I'd say 'street-rat' but then I'd be insulting our dad."

     Bonnie glared up Raphael and mouth the words, "Fuck, you."

     Raphael smirked and shifted her in his arms, being rough on purpose this time. "Oops."

     "Arrgh!!" Bonnie snarled and balled her hands into fist. "Juuussst you wait..." She seethed.  

     Aida cringed at him a bit, "But...we didn't do anything wrong! This time at least." She muttered.

     "Oh really?" Leo's brows perked. "So there wasn't any particular reason you were on the roof top of a bank? You guys were just, hanging out?"

     Aida smiled a little, trying to look convincing. "Uuuh...yo no hablo ingles?" She chuckled a little.

     "No mientas. El sabrá cuando lo estés," Donatello waved a warning finger at her before turning to Leo. "We got five minutes before the cops show up. Are we going?"

     Aida blinked in shock when the other giant monster spoke to her in her own language. She rubbed her head and began to feel drowsy. "I must be dreaming. Or in a coma..."

     "Yes," Leo nodded at his purple cladded brother, and hopped from one roof to another. "Let's go," he called out to the others.

     "Alright, this is gonna be a bit bumpy, so sorry for that." Mikey said. "Hold on tight now," he lifted her up and took a few steps to the edge of the roof and then jumped as lightly as he could to the next rooftop.

     "W-wait, what are you...?" Aida watched wide-eyed in fear as they got closer to the edge of the building, her head shaking. "No. No, no, no...!" She let out a scream when he jumped, her hands grabbing the straps on his body for dear life. When they landed, she could feel her heart pounding so fast she could have sworn it was about to burst out of her chest. "I'm going to die...this is how I die..." She panted.  

     Raphael was not nearly as careful as Michelangelo was. He ran and jumped at full force, making sure he had a tight grip on the girl so she wouldn't plummet to the ground below. He landed on his feet, making the stone crack when he landed on his feet.

      "We need to pick up the pace," Leo hollered back to his brothers as he heard the sirens catching up in the distance.

     "Alright, this next one is not gonna be as nice, so, sorry again!" Mikey smiled sympathetically before taking a few steps back and then sprinting to the next roof top. His pace didn't slow from there. He just kept hopping from one roof to another, his feet barely touching the ground when he did.

     When Leo spotted a manhole in one of the alleyways he hopped down from the rooftops. He landed next to it and uncovered the lid, waving for his brothers to come along.

     Aida shut her eyes tightly when he kept jumping. She could feel her gut rise and fall with every leap and plunge they took, just like a roller coaster. Unfortunately, her fear and the nasty blow to the head were too much for her to handle and she quickly passed out. In hind-sight was a good thing; if she had seen the man-hole, she would have struggled harder.

     Raphael looked down and saw the signal. He stopped at the edge of the building and looked down at his passenger. "Alright listen. You have to be as still as possible. Unless you wanna loose a foot or finger."

     Donatello smacked Raphael's shell hard, but playfully, grinning when he stumbled forward. "Better hurry!" He waved at the two before jumping off the building and disappearing into the man hole.

    "Right behind ya!" Michelangelo said and jumped in after Donatello, with a yahoo!

     "Well... I've already loss so much blood." Bonnie said with a shaky voice. "What’s a foot or finger in comparison?" She somehow still managed to be a smart-ass despite her current state.

     “I mean if you don't mind bein' out of the job," He teased before jumping off the building, giving her no warning. Of course he still had a heart, and he really didn't want to deal with missing appendages, so he held her close as they fell. As soon as they cleared the hole though, he relaxed and straightened his back. "Everything still attached?" He asked her, sounding genuine for once.

     Her stomach churned and twist the same way it would when going over the ramp of a roller coaster ride. Even though she was used to jumping off and over buildings herself, it wasn't quite the same when she had an open and bleeding wound. Her eyes began to flicker, and she tried to fight the feeling of passing out. "…I think so." She nodded.

     Raphael's brow furrowed when he saw her eyes flicker, but luckily Donatello saw the same thing.

     The leaner of the four was in front of his larger brother within seconds, eyeing the girl's wound more closely. "Oh shit...that's deeper than I thought," He mumbled, reaching into one of the pockets of his pants. He took out a miniature first aid kit and popped it open, getting out some gauze and medical tape. "I don't have any disinfectant, but this should at least keep it covered until we get to the lair," He explained to her as he pushed her shirt up enough for him to apply the crude bandaging. "You might need a couple of stitches too, but we'll worry about that later." He smiled reassuringly at her. He stood up straight and pointed at Raphael, "Be gentle, okay?"

     "I'm always gentle!" He huffed at his brother, making sure to take lighter steps as he moved forward.

     "Yeah, listen to the handsome one!" Bonnie teased and her head rolled on her shoulders. She was become dizzy at the loss of blood, combined with the foul smell emanating from the sewers. She wanted, no, needed to stay awake but her eyes were becoming so heavy and blurred.  She thought about how insane this all was. Four giant turtles coming to her aid after the two of them somewhat threatened her only nights ago... She wondered where they were taking her and why? And what would happen after that? Turtles were herbivores right? No, she remember a kid in middle school who had one; he'd sometime feed it feeder fish. Her head rolled from side to side again. 

     "I'm... not that tasty." The words slurred out of her mouth before her eyes completely shut and everything went to black.

[mikeyd1986]

MIKEY’S PERSONAL BLOG 60, July 2017

On Monday morning, I had my Strength Training session with Luke Davey at Breakaway Fitness in Berwick. Today I felt like I was really productive, in the right mindset and trying hard to improve my technique. It’s getting a lot easier to open up to Luke now. The awkward tension is slowly dissipating. I even took the opportunity to be really honest with him post-workout. We basically exchanged hard truths and it felt good. I feel like if something is weighing heavily on my mind, I need to express it. Luke can’t read my mind and it’s better than pretending everything’s fine. It builds trust and it creates transparency.

WARM-UP...Today I used a rubber ball into the hips and lower groins, lying down on my side and on my back. Next I did some forward folding stretches over the box and also did a cowboy walk down the track. The exposure to how stupid I must of looked didn’t even bother me today because I was so focused on the burning through my knees, groin and buttocks. I’m slowly letting go of what others think about me and that’s a really good thing.

DEVELOPMENT...Today I worked on my back squats again, doing 5 rounds of 5 reps. This time, I was trying hard to improve my technique of sinking down low enough and keeping my chest lifted up. It’s a difficult balance to maintain but because I was only lifting about 40-50kg, it was easier to concentrate on my form. It wasn’t perfect but it was much better than last time and I didn’t leave beating myself up and feeling a failure. That’s success right there. Luke also decided to play some Britney Spears which certainly helped me keep focused.

WORKOUT...For the workout, I ended up doing some sled pulls and pushes along the green track. The first round was at 20kg. Luke was explaining that this was meant to be a sprint and therefore I’d want to be moving as fast as possible. My first attempt wasn’t the greatest but eventually I was getting better at it. At 30-40kg, the fatigue was kicking in hard and I really couldn’t move that fast at all. I was also a little too conscious about bumping into something going backwards and kept checking over my shoulder but otherwise I did okay.

Completing the workout was an achievement for me. The fact that I was out of breath and unable to talk shows that I did put 100% effort in. However the truth is that personal bests, records and times aren’t things that really motivate me that much. I don’t define myself and my progress by a number. It’s what makes me unique in the world of Crossfit and Strength Training. People may think that I’m crazy or not serious about my training, but that is far from the truth. Showing up, not giving up and smashing out a workout is what defines me. https://www.facebook.com/breakawayf...

On Monday night, I attended my first class of the Foundation Meditation course at Brahma Kumaris Centre for Spiritual Learning, The Peninsula. Finding the place wasn’t too difficult despite the lack of streetlights. Walking into the main building and reception area, I felt a little intimidated and cautious about being here. Then I noticed that all of the staff there were all wearing white garments. Oh god, have I just stepped into a spiritual/religious cult? Is this a convent or a mental hospital? Thankfully none of these things...so far.

I filled in a registration form at the front desk before proceeding upstairs to my class. The large room contained a screen featuring a diagram of focused light rays on a red background and a collection of 9 red chairs all arranged in a uniform pattern. My anxiety began kicking in now and of course I was the first to arrive. I met the facilitator named Angie, removed my shoes and found myself a seat in the back row. The other students then back flowing into the room before the class began at 7pm.

The class contained a mixed of theory and practical elements. We learned about the different types of thoughts including positive, negative, elevated, ordinary and waste. The last one, waste, makes up 90-95% of our total thoughts and include things from our past (blame, bitterness, regret and guilt) and our future (doubt, fear and worry). Angie described thoughts as a flow of energy out into the atmosphere and that having awareness of what we are thinking and experiencing is really important in order to overcome and change it.

We also learned about the acronym for SOS...STOP (Having the realisation/awareness), OBSERVE (What it is that you are thinking?) and STEER (Steer my thoughts in a more positive direction. For example, what are my best qualities?). Finally, we discussed the four stages of meditation. These include Relaxation (relaxing the body), Contemplating (thoughts are taking a positive turn e.g. I am happy, I am peaceful), Concentration (just experiencing or feeling), Realisation (deep internal stillness and having very few thoughts). http://brahmakumaris.org.au/events/...

On Tuesday afternoon, I went to a Christmas in July social function with the Narre Warren Walking Group at Cardinia Park Hotel in Beaconsfield. I was still feeling a bit restless from last night but getting out was exactly what I needed. The bistro was pretty cozy though the heater was on full blast and making me more drained than usual. The two long tables were buzzing with conversation and it seemed like everyone was happy to see Mum and myself there.

The meals were a little on the expensive side but I honestly couldn’t complain about the service or the portion size. I ordered the calarami with chips and salad. It was extremely filling to say the least. The conversations around me where polite and I did try to engage with a few of them but it was hard maintaining my focus. I find staying in large social groups to be exhausting after a certain period of time and I was ready to leave by the 1.5-2 hour mark. Still I’m glad I came. http://www.cardiniaparkhotel.com.au/...

On Tuesday night, I drove down to my friend Michael McLaren’s place in Bayswater to pick up my Oceans To Athena hoodie. Most people would think I’m either nuts or dedicated driving 45 minutes to an hour just to pick up some merch but I had another reason for coming down. Social connection. Something that’s been really lacking in my life lately. So the long drive didn’t bother me at all and I knew how to get there, considering it was very close the The Barn Live.

I chilled out in Michael’s living room with his girlfriend Holly, roommate and his friendly dog Obi. The wall heater was on and I was sipping on a cup of green lemon tea whilst listening to the conversations. I didn’t stay too long as I intended to go to my Body Balance class straight after. However, when I was driving back to Narre Warren, I was feeling noticeably drained and worn out. Plus the peak-hour traffic didn’t help matters. Even if I did make it in time, I’d be rushing to get there and honestly it wasn’t worth the stress. Sometimes it’s better to listen to your body and do what’s best for you at the time.

On Wednesday morning, I attended my Restorative yoga class with Kim Lousada at Now, Yoga.. Honestly, I haven’t really been functioning well the last couple of days. My sleep patterns have been terrible. I’ve been feeling unmotivated, restless and worn out. And I’ve also been feeling quite down and depressed about my life. So this class was exactly what I needed today. To walk out of that studio feeling revitalized, refreshed and joyful. It’s the reason why I continue to do yoga because of all the benefits I get out of it. http://nowyoga.net.au/

Today we did a series of supported variations of poses including pigeon pose, wide legged forward fold, side stretches and butterfly pose using bolsters, blocks and blankets. My hips were noticeably tight and so pigeon pose really helped in opening up that area and increasing the stretch. I didn’t go too deep with it today but it still felt good. Kim used a quote from Bruce Lee about “becoming like water” which means adapting to changes in life. She also read the quote “This too shall pass”, which is a Persian adage referring to feelings and mental states not being permanent. http://www.goodreads.com/quotes/163...

On Thursday. Mum and I spent the day out in the city together. Firstly, we had an 11.30am reservation at the NGV The Tea Room for tea and lunch. We ordered the devonshire tea with scones plus a selection of finger sandwiches and two desserts. It’s not very often that we dine in style so we made the most of it.

Next, we queued up to purchase tickets to the Van Gogh and the Seasons at NGV inside the Great Hall. The queue was ridiculously long but that was no surprise considering the exhibition ends this week and it’s also the school holidays. It took us just over an hour to get to the front of the line but I bemused myself by overhearing conversations around me and checking out some male eye candy.

The exhibition began with a short video explaining the life and a brief history of Vincent Van Gogh. He was born in Zundert, Netherlands on 30 March, 1853. Starting out as an art dealer, he soon followed in his father’s footsteps in turning to religion and becoming a Protestant missionary in Belgium. However, this venture was short-lived as his true passion for painting quickly emerged in 1881. His brother Theo supported him both financially and compassionately during his art career.

In 1886, Van Gogh moved to Paris, getting himself involved in the avant garde and impressionist movements. His paintings were heavily influenced by the likes of Emile Bernard, Paul Gauguin and Claude Monet. Van Gogh suffered from mental disorders including depression, loneliness, social isolation and several psychotic episodes. This lead to a fight with Gauguin, which resulted in him chopping off his own ear. He was later admitted to Saint Remy, a local psychiatric asylum, before shooting himself in the chest with a revolver and dying in 1890.

In terms of his artwork collection, the exhibition was divided up into four sections representing each of the seasons: Autumn, Winter, Spring and Summer. Van Gogh correlated each season with particular moods, feelings, colours, people, animals, flowers and other landscape features. Autumn featured large trees and woodland as well as shades of browns and oranges. Winter featured dark renderings, shadowy figures in snow fields and willowy peach trees. Spring featured blossoming orchards, cows and farm workers. Summer featured wheat fields and varying tones of yellow. Van Gogh also did a series of still life paintings featuring vases containing sunflowers, roses, poppies and irises as well as collections of fruit. https://www.ngv.vic.gov.au/exhibiti...

On Friday morning, I had my counselling session with Ruth at Piece Together Counselling in Narre Warren. I decided to invite my mum along again today for support. Today I talked about how unmotivated and low I’ve been feeling this week. Beginning with my PT session with Luke on Monday, I had the courage to speak up about what truly motivates me and be assertive about it. Both my mental state and the colder weather has affected me as my energy levels have quickly depleted during the day. Physically, I just haven’t felt like going out at night unless I really had to.

Mum was also really concerned about how I’m going to cope being alone in the house next week while she and Rod are in Queensland for their anniversary. At least I’ve managed to put a few plans in place for myself like my Movie Night, PT sessions, yoga, fitness classes, meditation, art galleries, gigs, reading and puzzles. Plus I’ll be cooking for myself which I’m sure I’ll manage. I’m just going to stick to easy to prepare meals with few ingredients. It doesn’t have to be Masterchef.

On Friday afternoon, I had my Strength Training session with Luke Davey at Breakaway Fitness in Berwick. I was rushing from place to place all morning and had no time to slow down, relax and have lunch. Plus a lot of negative stuff was building up inside of me and had to be released somehow. Honestly, I did have good intentions walking into today’s session but everything just quickly went downhill fast during my workout.

WARM-UP...Today I started by doing some standing forward bends, stretching into the sides and touching my toes. Yoga really has helped in regards to improving my flexibility. Next, I had to do 3 rounds of 8 single arm kettle bell deadlifts, essentially going into a Warrior 3 pose and having to balance my leg behind me. My balance was pretty terrible today but I kept trying and eventually got the hang of it.

DEVELOPMENT...Today I worked on my deadlifts again, this time doing 5 rounds of 3 at 90kg. Luke was giving me plenty of hints in order to correct my posture and technique whilst lifting. I was trying so hard not to take these critiques personally but my mental illness proved stronger today. I was starting to get frustrated and impatient with myself but my lifts were improving with each round and I tried hard to make each rep count.

WORKOUT...Today I used a Strongman Yoke for the first time, which is essentially a large metal frame that can be loaded up with plates. At first I was doing okay and slowly adjusting to the swaying motion of the side bars. I was finding it difficult to keep myself centered whilst lifting it up and also trying to pace myself with the walk. When it came to the last reps of the workout, I was lifting around 80kg or so and it was getting really tough on my neck and shoulders.

The physical and mental pressures were both bubbling up inside of me and I was ready to explode. I couldn’t shut my negative thoughts off (That’s not good enough, Don’t drop the frame, You’re a failure) and then it came out: I AM NOT A FUCKING FAILURE! I made a beeline to the nearest box and sat down, hands over my face, shedding a river of tears. I felt so embarrassed in that moment a) for letting the pressure get to me and b) for making such an uncharacteristic outburst in front of Luke.

The truth was that I was really angry at myself and I basically letting my mental illness off for interfering during my workout. I’d had enough. Part of me was also trying way too hard to please Luke and not disappoint him. I wanted to be “good enough” in his eyes and yet I felt like I couldn’t do anything right today. He assured me that I should be happy with the effort I put in but of course I wasn’t in the mindset to believe him or care. I just want you to be proud of me. I’m sorry that I failed you.

On Friday night, I attended my RPM class at YMCA Casey ARC in Narre Warren. This was a very last minute decision as I felt like I needed some high intensity exercise tonight rather than sitting at home or going out to a gig and replaying today’s events over and over in my head. I needed to release these internal demons and rid myself of this “I’m not good enough” mindset bouncing around inside my head. I needed to feel better about myself mentally.

Tonight’s class was instructed by Matt who was filling in for Natalie Blanch. It was a mixture of releases 40 and 72 which included the tracks Seal - If It’s In My Mind, It’s On My Face, Jennifer Lopez - Do It Well, The Cranberries - Zombie, Seven Lions - Falling Away and Andrew Rayel - Rise Of An Era. It was hitting around 70-80RPM for the easy ride sections, up to 85RPM for the standing cycle sections and 110-130RPM for the racing sections. http://w3.lesmills.com/israel/en/cl...

I immersed myself fully in the workout, taking in the trance and club songs as I was pedaling and imagining the cycle studio becoming something like a nightclub with green laser lights and DJ’s on the decks. It’s amazing what exercise can do for the mind and body. I was able to quieten those loud negative thoughts from earlier today and just focus on cycling. I always seem to sweat heaps in these classes which is a really good thing because it means I’m working hard. https://greatist.com/fitness/13-awe...

[tmntxreader-fics]

TMNT Raphael x Reader: A Damaged Love

Request: 

@skywolf42   Ooh I have prompt for you!! RaphaelxReader where the Reader character gets in an argument with Raphael and flinches and freezes up at some point when he gets mad. Raph is immediately guilty that he's done something to make the Reader think he'd ever hit them, not understanding at first that it was a subconscious response due to physical abuse at the hands of a masculine figure at some point in the Reader's life. 

I took a different take on this, and added some 2007 Raph elements to it. Made it a little bit darker. Raph goes a little too far. 

WARNINGS: Cussing (as usual), mention of physical abuse, angst, and typos because I’m a dumb bitch. Violent anger. ANGRY RAPH. like, Unreasonable 2007 Raph angry. 

Fem Reader this time around.

‘Every couple squabbles.’

 At least, that’s what they say. That’s what you had told yourself when you were ignoring the ringing in your ears.

They say that ‘the arguments make the relationship stronger, make them healthier.’ With delicious irony, you remember repeating that one beneath your breath quite regularly; especially the nights when your purple jaw ached. 

‘Now that everything has been spilled into the air, you can both work on coming to a compromise together.’ On the contrary, you discovered that attempting to “compromise” simply resulted in a doomed-to-be-overdue hospital bill.

Now, on your second attempt at playing a role within a relationship, you realize that the first point was correct; every couple does squabble. Or, as you have found to be more accurate, they go to war. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

With a tragic spark of displaced humor, you consider the fact that this is the first time you have heard Raphael direct those words at you, rather than his enemies. Venturing further into your morbid curiosity, you wonder if, perhaps at this moment, you are his enemy. 

You suppose that you should have seen the burst of volume coming, really. It was bound to arrive between both of your voices rising in a steady crescendo. The predictability of the explosion was evident, so you’re unsure as to why it had shocked you so intensely. 

Maybe it was the words in which he had spoken, or perhaps, the way he had so aggressively pointed his finger towards you; accompanied by a menacing step. 

“Excuse me?” Your tone is the perfect picture of aggravated bewilderment. Now you understand how people could be so taken aback that they question the reliability of their hearing. “What did you just say to me?” 

“What, are you deaf? You heard me,” Raphael snarls, pacing from side to side as if he were a caged animal. Maybe he is, you muse. Perhaps he holds a barely contained animalistic anger; simmering beneath that rough, viridescent skin. Something that not even the Mutagen could evolve; or possibly, it’s responsible for encouraging the aggression. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Your voice is ripped from your lips in a bellow, your anger almost tangible. “What makes you think that you can talk to me like that?”

“You think you’re fuckin’ special?” he sneers, the simple sentence acting like a spear to your chest. The terrapin spins on his heels to face you, raising his finger once again to point at you accusingly. “You think that just ‘cos you’re my girlfriend, that means I can’t get mad at ya?” 

Your jaw drops in indignant disbelief, “there’s mad and then there’s this!” 

“You started this!” He growls, inhaling sharply in a poor attempt to maintain composure, “I didn’t fuckin’ come for you, you provoked me!”

Taking a step back from his overbearing presence, you return his words with a humourless snicker, “of course, it’s my fault.” 

“Yeah, it is,” Raphael snaps, eyes boring holes into your own; as if he were praying that looks could kill. Your stomach churns, clearly understanding the intent behind that gaze. 

“Of course it is! When have you ever taken responsibility for your own fuck-ups?” The words leave your lips before you can help yourself. You know instantly that you’ve just poured fuel over an already flaming fire. You could almost see the uncontrollable rage spread from his chest throughout his body. 

Still, despite the signs, you’re unable to prevent yourself from stumbling backward when the wooden table explodes into splintered pieces beneath his fist. You’ve fallen uncomfortably into the bench, tripping on the heel of your own shoe in your desperate attempt to gain space between you and the destructive beast on the other side of the room. Despite the blatant fear your new position exclaims, leaning back against the support of a metal structure with fingers that grip the edges for comfort, you cannot bring yourself to move. 

You try to stand to your feet and straighten up before he can turn around and see you. Before he can witness the power his anger has over you, the humiliating way you cower from his explosive outburst. Your body barely budges an inch at your mental commands and you remain frozen to your place.

Habit is not easily broken, your body reminds you. 

You know, logically, that Raphael would never hurt you. But, as much as you’d like to trust yourself, your logic has led you seriously wrong before. Your fiery nature has only brought you to once conclusion in your relationships, and they started off just like this. Just once. Just one fight. Just one blow. Then it never stopped. 

All is quiet, except for the heavy breathing that fills the room. Distantly, you remember that Mikey had carved that table himself as a kid; it was lopsided and ugly but he had made that. It was a piece of their childhood, a fond memory- and Raphael had just obliterated it without a second thought. 

You stand torn, staying put leaves you in the ‘danger zone’ and leaving the room is basically a flashing neon sign screaming ‘weakness’. You had promised yourself to grow stronger in the face of the opposition, to challenge and at the first sign of violence, to leave. 

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” His voice is hoarse; breaking the silence so suddenly that you jump a little. His shell is turned to you, though you can tell that he is hunched over a little; shoulders heaving with the weight of your words. 

“I asked you the same question and you didn’t answer,” the reply leaves your lips as a rasp. The longer you dwell on the thought of Mikey’s face when he sees the damage the stronger your resentment towards Raphael becomes. You find that you want to grind your teeth until there’s nothing left but small shards of bone; you want to clutch his world in your hands and burn it to ashes. With the rage rushing through your blood you find the energy to at least stand and somewhat straighten your stance. You’ve never felt such unfathomable wrath towards somebody that you genuinely love, even against those of whom you had thought you loved. 

Perhaps, it’s because you love him and you know it’s mutual that it hurts to see the relationship take a tragically familiar path. Is this the inevitable truth of love? Is it simply a means to an end? Could it be that love is so desired that they hide the horrors of it behind a quaint picture, and collectively everyone drinks it in like a sweet cocktail of poison. They thirst for it because they think that the high is worth the consequences, that the repercussions of love are the lesser of two evils- the other being loneliness.  

“You want me to answer your question?” His voice interrupts your train of thought. Turning your gaze to your partner’s hulkish figure you can’t help but shiver when he straightens up, shell still shielding him from your observation. “I’ll tell you exactly who I am.” 

Your heart leaps into your throat when Raphael turns, his eyes narrowed and blazing with a heat that make your instincts scream at you to run. 

One step. 

“I’m Raphael,” he begins. 

Two steps. 

“Now, see, I got a bad, bad, temper.” 

Three steps. 

“But I’m the best at what I do; putting a fist through someone’s jaw is how I get off.” 

Four steps. He’s halfway across the room now. 

“Now, I got a girlfriend. She talks big for someone who’s half my size.” 

Five steps. You stomach lurches and you can’t help but lean back into the metal bench once more. 

“She reminds me of my brother, can’t stop themselves from tryin’ to dictate my life, correct me at every turn,” his teeth are gritted now, words ground out rather than said. “Of course, they call it guidance.” 

Six steps. Too close. 

“Kinda funny that my girlfriends joined in when you think about the fact that I’m ten times as strong as her.” 

“Raph,” you whisper. Your heart sinks, you know where this is going. You had held out hope that it would never come to this, perhaps you’ve pushed him too far. Maybe this is your fault. 

Ignoring your voice, he takes another step forward. Seven. 

“Faster than her.” 

“Please,” you rasp, gripping the metal beside you in an attempt to not curl up. 

“Bigger than her.” 

Eight. 

He’s in front of you now, his body towering over your trembling self. You can barely breath, your eyes fixated on the fists that are balled at his sides. If it’s coming you might as well make the most of it. 

“What do you want from me?” You burst, voice breaking mid sentence. “What do you want me to say?” 

“I want you to support me!” He snaps. You can feel his breath brushing the top of your head and you lips tremble at the volume of his voice. Don’t break, stay strong. “Why is this so fuckin’ hard for you’s to understand. I don’t want authority I want a partner!”

“Why is it so hard for you to understand that partnership is about guiding someone through their flaws and encouraging them with their strengths,” you whisper shakily. Finally you turn your eyes up to meet his hard expression, watching the way he observes the wateriness of your gaze. “You’re so insecure that you can pinpoint everyone else’s problems but the second yours are addressed you think you’re being attacked and dominated.” 

“Insecure?” 

Perhaps, that was not the best word to throw around when you’re trapped between a metal bench and a 6′5, 340lb angry turtle. 

“I’m insecure? Look who’s talking!” His laugh is a humorless roar and you flinch beneath him.

“I don’t intimidate the people I love to hide my insecurities,” you snap back, gesturing to his aggressive posture. 

“Being intimidating is the only way to shut you’s up! There’s no other way to get you to back off!” He exclaims, throwing his hands up in disbelief. Your stomach clenches, shoulders flinching upwards to your jaw at the sudden movement. 

"What are you a caveman?” You cry, poking your finger into his plastron and straightening your posture in an attempt to cover your previous reaction. Be strong. “Use. Your. Words. Be honest! Be open! No one is gonna understand where the line is if you explode the second we open our mouths. Communicate through your words, your touch, your actions!” 

Your heart is pounding in your chest and you realise instantly that your courageous facade is permanently over when you catch his eyes. The sheer fury. Your body begins to tremble harder than it has in so long, the adrenaline rushing through your body in an attempt to evoke a response. Run, your instincts scream, hide! 

“You want me to use my words?” He sneers, his voice so low you don’t expect the volume from his next sentence. “Then shut the fuck up.” 

He steps in so that your body is pressed between his and the metal digging into your back. Your hands immediately raise up to press against his chest. “Raph....” 

“You want me to use my touch?” His voice is a steady shout now, you distantly wonder whether the boys can hear his bellow from the streets. But you know the truth, that you’re alone. Left at his mercy. 

His hands grip your body by your shoulders and at the sound of your startled cry he lifts you up so that only your toes brush the ground. He shakes you, as if hoping that somehow he could scramble your mind and prevent you from conjuring anymore words. “Then let me shake some sense into ya.” 

Your first sob is overpowered by the roar of his voice, you don’t know if he’s even heard it. You feel as though you’re going to puke any second now and you can’t find your breath. There’s no air. Where’s the air? 

“You want me to use my actions?” He drops his grip on you and your body falls into the bench behind you. “Then here!” 

He leans in and your body is bent backwards over the table before his fists smash into the metal on either side of your body, undoubtedly denting it. 

With that, you break. 

Your body crumples to the floor beneath his feet, hands raised above your head in a feeble attempt to protect yourself. 

Not again. 

There’s a silence before his voice, ever so soft, violates the quiet. He says your name. He says it twice. 

Is this how it’s meant to be? 

He says it three times. 

Please, not again. 

Please. 

He doesn’t touch you, not yet. 

Please. 

Please.

He says your name again, this time his voice sounds as broken as you feel. 

Please. 

He’s apologising, the words sweet nothings lost to the air. The whispers caress your body, curling around your neck in a deceptively loving touch. The words stroke your cheek, touch your lips. 

He says your name again, so softly. So gentle. The hushed tones wait for you to look up, they’re coaxing you to unfurl. But you know; you know from experience that they beckon you so that they can look you in the eyes. So that they can watch you, adoration in their gaze. They want to see your face when they choke you with the very thing that you crave. 

Love.

This is love.