#Mikey's throwing shade

[clanofjones]

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Sketch dumps, my beloved ^^

Junior was going to be just a head, but-- THE BOY

I love him, and he deserved at least a torso

(◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。

[justauthoring]

TOKYO REVENGERS - UH, HE’S TAKEN?

includes: manjiro “mikey” sano, ken “draken” ryuguji, chifuyu matsuno and mitsuya takashi all x fem!reader!

a/n: this is not proofread. we die like men.  maybe i’ll proofread it tomorrow...

MIKEY:

The absolute audacity of this girl.

You’re almost positive you’re imagining this because... she couldn’t be serious could she?

“Mikey, say ‘ah’!”

With barely concealed disdain written across your face, you watch as the same girl who's been hanging off of Mikey’s arm since the both of you arrived at the shrine with the rest of your friends, proceeds to try and feed Mikey a treat. Of course, it’s taiyaki and it’s clear by the wide grin on her lips that she hopes the taunt of his favourite treat will entice him into doing as she asks.

She hasn’t left his side all night and whilst at first you’d tried to ignore the jealousy burning deep within you, it was getting harder by the second.

From pulling Mikey from your side with her arm tightly wound around his own, to making sure to keep you at a distance all night, your excitement for the night had quickly dwindled into disappointment at hurt. At first you’d convinced yourself that Mikey was just trying to be nice, but it hurt you to see him continuously let this girl hang off of him, giggle at every little thing he says and make sure to throw every flirtatious comment she possibly can.

Did he really not care?

This girl was clearly in love with Mikey, or at the very least had a big crush on him. And it didn’t seem she really cared that Mikey had a girlfriend in the first place – that girlfriend being you. You knew Mikey could be dense, but you were also positive he wasn’t oblivious enough to miss her very plain intentions and seeing him let her do whatever she wanted burned a hurt deep inside of you you hadn’t thought possible. 

It was getting hard to convince yourself that Mikey wasn’t simply enjoying her attention.

You’re too hurt to notice the expression on Mikey’s face as you frown, gaze lowering to your feet only for the hurt the resurface all over again. You’d been so excited for this evening and even more so when Mikey had personally invited you to join him and his friends to the shrine for New Years Eve. It wasn’t like you hadn’t expected to go with him, but it had warmed your heart when he’d still asked despite already being in a relationship and you’d felt a great bout of excitement when it realized this would be Mikey’s first time seeing you in a traditional yukata.

You’d had Emma help you get ready, making sure to wear a material the same shade of Mikey’s long hair and he’d barely looked at you all night since that girl had arrived.

“See, Mikey? Surely, you’d like a girl more like me, wouldn’t you?”

Her words burn, and you feel your eyes watering, turning away before even bothering to listen to Mikey’s response.

Given how he’d been acting all night, you’re sure he’d be no different now.

“Y/N-chan…”

At the sound of Emma’s voice, you simply shake your head; “it’s okay, Emma. I think I’m just gonna head home.” Sending her a small smile, you wave at her; “say bye to the others for me, kay?”

She doesn’t respond. Not at first.

Quickly latching onto your arm, Emma pulls you back, halting you from leaving. You turned to her confused, but she just points past your shoulder, shaking your head; “look.”

Despite the ever growing want to cry and practically run out of there, you listen to Emma nonetheless, slowly turning your head over your shoulder, only to catch the tail end of Mikey slapping the taiyaki out of the girl's hand. Your eyes widen, surprised, watching the treat fall to the ground and crumble apart as the girl watches on in disbelief, lips parting.

“Mikey, what was–”

“You’re such a hassle, you know that?” Mikey cuts her off, head tilting with a rather serious look on his face. “You’ve been overly clingy all night and I haven’t been able to hang out with Y/N/N-chan at all.”

The girls face twists, anger befalling her expression; “how dare–”

“How dare you,” he huffs, “as if I’d ever choose you over Y/N.”

With that, he all but rips the girl's arm off of him, turning around with hesitation. His eyes flicker across the crowd of people for a moment, before settling on you and instantly his expression brightens, eyes lighting up as he picks up his step, reaching you in seconds. You’re still too in shock to respond to his hug, catching a last glance of the girl with a flushed face of embarrassment and narrowing her eyes at you darkly.

But then Mikey’s pulling back, pulling your focus on him.

“Y/N-chan!” He whines, “I want taiyaki!”

You let a laugh out at that, shaking your head as you feel your body slowly easing.

“Come on, you big baby, I’ll get you some taiyaki then.”

He slips his hand into yours, squeezing. “And you’ll feed it to me?”

Rolling your eyes, you nod; “of course.”

DRAKEN:

“You know that Ken likes… more girly girls, right?”

Blinking at the sudden stranger standing in front of you – a girl you’re sure you’ve never seen before – you’re too baffled to even know what to say.

“Um,” you try to laugh, “what?”

“Ken,” she says, addressing your boyfriend far too friendly for your taste. “He’s your boyfriend right?”

Nodding slowly, you hum, “yeah.”

“Just surprising is all,” she shrugs, an entirely too smug look on her face. “I mean, I wouldn’t think he’d go for a girl like you.”

The words are said will barely concealed disgust. It isn’t hard to notice the way she’s eyeing you, clearly judging you as she looks you up and down, arms crossed over her chest. And you’re sure you look like a fool, lips parted in bafflement and brows furrowed as you try to make sense of just what exactly is happening here.

This girl, a girl you’ve never seen, is not only eyeing you up and down like you’re dressed in a garbage bag, but also has the audacity to tell you that Ken wouldn’t go for a girl like you?

“And what type of girl would he go for?” You question, quirking a brow at the girl.

She smiles then, expression brightening as she flips her hair back; “a girl like me, duh.”

You snort then, shaking your head; “does Draken even know who you are?”

Indignation crosses her features then, face falling as her eyes widen in disbelief. “We have the same class together!” She calls out, voice pitching as she rushes to explain herself. “We sit next to each other every day.”

“Just never heard him mention you before is all,” you nod, shrugging. “If you were an actual threat, I think I would’ve heard about you by now, don’t you?”

Her face flares, turning red. But before she can say anything, your name is called by another.

Head turning over your shoulder, your face eases at the sight of Draken. He’s making his way out of the school, a certain expression of relief painted on his feet, reminding you that you were supposed to meet him by his class after school and he’d clearly been looking for you when you’d never shown up.

He looks mildly confused by the sight of the girl before settling his eyes back on you.

“I was waiting for you, Y/N.”

Smiling sheepishly, you rub the back of your neck; “sorry, Draken. I got caught up with…” Your voice trails as you turn back to the girl, feeling the familiar sensation of Draken’s arm sliding around your waist, tucking you into his side. You’re not really sure what to say in explanation when regarding how you’d been caught up by a girl who had been by all means trying to intimidate you in your own relationship with your boyfriend.

“Who are you?”

Draken, ever the blunt man he always is, doesn’t surprise you as he turns to the girl, brows furrowed in bafflement.

You hadn’t thought her face could get more red. You’re quickly proved wrong when her face explodes like a tomato, eyes narrowing; “Ken, we-we… we sit next to each other everyday.”

He just shrugs; “oh, sorry. Didn’t recognize you,” and a quick look at his face tells you he’s still not exactly sure who she is. He also looks mildly peeved at her familiar greeting of his name; a fact that nearly brings you into a fit of giggles.

Turning to you, Draken gestures behind him; “let’s go. We’re supposed to meet Mikey and Baji, remember?”

Eyes lighting up in recognition, you grin; “oh, yeah! I forgot!” You move to walk off, offering a small wave at the girl who doesn’t bother to return the action, obviously humiliated and with that, you let Draken turn you, leaning into his touch as you both make your way off the school grounds.

“I, uh… I didn’t recognize her,” Draken laughs once it’s just the two of you, pulling your eyes on him. You snort, shaking your head. “What did she even want with you?”

You hesitate, debating whether you should be honest or not.

Honestly though, you got your satisfaction the moment she was blatantly proved wrong right to her face that you’re hardly even bothered by her words anymore.

“Nothing,” you shrug, “don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Oi,” Draken grumbles, “I’m not pretty.”

But the blush on his cheeks tells you he enjoyed the compliment anyways.

MITSUYA:

Sometimes Mitsuya was too nice for his own good.

You’ve thought that plenty of times before. Mainly when he pushes himself to the point of exhaustion just to help those he cares for. You always scold him for it, telling him that sometimes it was okay to put himself before others. He never really listened, and so in the end, you helped him when and wherever you could.

But, Mitsuya also could be too nice to those he didn’t even know. And it was hard to watch.

What had started as irritation, soon turned into frustration at the fact that no matter how many times you tried to talk to Mitsuya, he’d just brush you off, confident you were just overreacting. It had hurt even more when he’d called you jealous, to which you couldn’t deny you weren’t – but this had gone beyond simple jealousy.

You’ve been watching this girl use and abuse your boyfriend for weeks on end, using it as an excuse to spend more time with him. He’d accidentally knocked into her one day after school, knowing her homework straight into a puddle and effectively ruining it – when he’d professed how sorry he was and that he’d do anything to make up for it, the smile on the girls lips had been far too wide for it to simply be innocent. It had rubbed you the wrong way then, but you’d left it alone.

Now? Now, you’re sure she’d bumped into him that day on purpose, making it seem like his fault, so she could use it to her advantage and make him constantly do things for her, hang out with her, whilst abusing the fact that he’d promised her that ‘he owed her’. 

And Mitsuya was too nice to say otherwise even though it was obvious he’d more than made up for something that hadn’t even been his fault in the first place.

Mitsuya wouldn’t listen to reason and you were beyond simply watching it happen anymore. Except, when you’d tried to tell him, tried to explain how you felt and how it was upsetting you and how this girl was just using him, he’d simply scoffed at you, called you clingy and jealous and that he didn’t have time for you.

You’d left without another word, slamming the door shut behind you, whilst only letting your tears fall when you were sure you were alone.

That was two hours ago, and you hadn’t moved from your bed since plopping on it when you’d finally gotten home.

You couldn’t understand how Mitsuya couldn’t see how this girl was using him! How he would choose to believe some random girl over his own girlfriend, going far enough to insult you while he was at it.

You’re so upset you don’t hear your front door open, or the familiar sound of your mothers voice calling out Mitsuya’s name. You don’t register any of it until you hear your bedroom door open, and turn to find him standing right in front of you, a guilty expression clear on his face while panting, chest heaving.

You stare back at him, confused; “Takashi?”

“I’m so sorry,” he cries out, voice breathless. “I’m so sorry I didn’t believe you.”

He’s bowing his head, and you reel to understand. “Wha-What?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you about that girl,” he explains, shaking his head. “You were right. She was just using me and I called you clingy and jealous because I didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t right of me, and this is no excuse, but I am so sorry.”

Lips parting, you stare back at him. “Takashi…”

He steps forward then, falling to a seat in front of you on your bed. “I’m so sorry, baby.” His eyes wander from your eyes, to how red they are and the dried tear stains on your cheeks. “I made you cry…”

“Takashi,” you call out again, reaching for your hand. “It’s… It’s okay.  I forgive you.”

He shakes his head; “I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Squeezing his hand, you shake your head, letting a soft smile curl on your lips. “I’m just happy you realized… I was so upset at her for using you like that.”

“I knew the moment she told me I should dump you for her,” Mitsuya explains, making your eyes widen as you stare back at him in disbelief. He flushes lightly, looking embarrassed. “I should’ve known sooner and I think I did… but just didn’t want to believe it. The second she said that… I was so angry. I can’t believe she’d talk about you like that.”

It was a surprise to see that her intentions had been more cruel than you’d originally thought…

Still, you were glad it made Mitsuya realize the truth if anything.

“You’re too nice for your own good, Takashi…”

CHIFUYU:

“I think me and Chifuyu would make a good pair, don’t you?”

Hinata freezes next to you, eyes slowly flickering over to you on her left, before back at the girl standing before the both of you. “What do you mean?” Hinata asks lightly, ever the polite and friendly girl.

“Well, I just mean, we work so well together. He’s always laughing at my jokes and I’m always making him blush.”

You feel your muscles tense, hand tightening around the cup in your hand and Hinata shuffles awkwardly next to you.

“Well, I mean, Y/N/N and Chifuyu are dating, so…”

The girl's eyes fall on you then and it takes everything in you not to slap her across the face. “Oh, that’s right,” she frowns in mock pity, tilting her head with a small shrug. “I’m sorry, Y/L/N. I nearly forgot you two were dating.”

You bite your lip, holding back your anger. “We’ve been dating for a year,” you remind, “not hard to remember.”

“I hardly see you guys together?” She questions, knowing exactly what she’s saying as she tilts her head in feigned wonder. There’s a twisted expression of pity on her face that has you insides boiling and you can feel Hinata’s hand on your arm where she squeezes, both to be comforting and to try and help calm you down. “Maybe it’s because he’s always with me…” She trails off, “we do spend a lot of time together.”

The absolute gall of this girl…

“Y/N/N and Chifuyu are very happy,” Hinata says in defense of you, and you feel yourself ease slightly at the sheer determination in her voice. For HInata to get so mad makes you feel more justified in your own feelings. “I think it’s silly of you to think he’d leave her so quickly for someone else.”

“But it’s not just ‘someone else’, no? It’s me.”

You don’t even know who this girl is.

Sure you’ve seen her briefly in passing, and you’re almost positive you’d seen her leave class with Chifuyu once but you’re also sure you’d seen a rather annoyed expression on her face as he had. 

For her to insinuate… you actually can’t even believe it.

“And I mean, Y/L/N’s not even saying anything so she must agree.”

Narrowed eyes falling on her, your lips part to respond, but before you can, another cuts in; “she doesn’t have to because what you’re saying is bullshit.”

Your body eases at the familiar sound of Chifuyu’s voice, feeling all your anger wash away within seconds when you feel his arm wound around your waist and comfortably slot himself next to your side. A quick glance to your right tells you Takemichi has fallen next to Hinata, the two of them clearly having been together before, and when turning to the girl, the expression on her face is a sight to see.

Cheeks warming, she shakes her head; “Chifuyu, you-you don’t think we’d make a good pairing?”

“No,” he says bluntly. “Besides, I’m already dating Y/N.” He gestures to you, and your eyes fall on him briefly.

“Bu-But what about–”

“What about nothing,” he cuts in, scoffing. “I’ve already told you to leave me alone. You’re annoying, jeez.”

The girl’s lips part, wanting to say anything, but she ends up just looking like a fool as she stands there, silent, lips gaping like a fish. You can see her eyes watering and in the next second, she’s spinning around, a whimper leaving her lips, and running off before anything can say otherwise.

You hear Chifuyu snort, Takemichi high-fiving him behind your head before turning his focus on Hinata as Chifuyu glances down at you.

“Sorry about her, babe,” Chifuyu frowns, “I hope you know she was wrong. About everything.”

“It’s okay…” You mumble after a moment, unable to stop the frown on your lips. “You didn’t have to be that harsh though…”

Chifuyu’s eyes widen in disbelief; “the girl couldn’t take a hint. I’ve been telling her to back off for weeks,” Chifuyu explains with a simple shrug, obviously unbothered by her reaction. “Besides, what she was saying about you? No one can talk about you like that.”

You want to argue otherwise, but his words make your heart flutter and when you think about it, the girl had walked herself into her own trap trying to belittle you like that.

“You’re right,” you shrug, smiling up at Chifuyu brightly.

“Of course I’m right,” he grins, straightening his shoulders out in a way that has you giggling. “Now let’s get lunch, I’m starving.”

You let him pull you away with a bright grin, completely forgetting about the girl.

[heartsofminds]

i'm calling just to hear you scream - part i

"She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down." or Natalie gets fed the fuck up and hires a hospitality attorney before everything else turns to shit. 

a/n: i couldn't help myself at all and had to bite by trying my hand at writing for carmy! what can i say? i love men with trauma that need to be cuddled like newborns! please enjoy the beginning of enemies to lovers to enemies back to lovers fic with a workaholic chef and an overly empathetic attorney. angst is my brand! i hope you enjoy!

Being the peacekeeper of your family is never something anyone ever sets out to be. 

One day you’re normal and live blissfully with the rose-colored lenses of naivety tinting life shades of bashful blush and magnetic magenta. The next day you’re diffusing a spitfire scarlett dispute between your anxiety-ridden mother and impulsively crude older brother while simultaneously taming the balloon of battered blue tears your baby brother sheds who observes from the corner; scared yet somehow unaware of the emotions sucking the oxygen out of everyone. 

At first, it feels good. It feels nice to be appreciated and turned to in moments of darkness. Helpfulness defines your livelihood and gives you the nameplate of the gold star child who can never do any wrong and always finds a solution. But then you realize that is what you ever really are, and you’re both hated for your inability to let things sour and for always having an answer despite uncertainty plaguing every course of action. 

Being the peacekeeper of your family is both a Medal of Honor, worn with pride and graciousness, yet a bullet wound wielded by shame and agony. The tenderness and hurt push on it until you can hardly stand it; half expecting pus to be seeping out in pale yellow heaps because the pain feels so real. 

There are no exit wounds. There are no breaks. There is no humanity or personal identity or room for self-discovery. 

A peacemaker is all you will be and all you will ever accomplish, and you’ll never say it out loud but it’s fucking exhausting. 

Being the peacemaker is something Natalie Berzatto never fucking asked for, yet here she is, playing project manager to her haywire (and sometimes freakishly obsessive) baby brother’s blind-eyed throw of a dart that manifested itself in asking Uncle Jimmy for an eight hundred thousand dollar loan with the promise to have it completely paid back within eight months. 

She’s not one to rain on a parade, but it’s hard to keep marching when your entire life has been putting out the fires of overly ambitious business ventures during unmedicated fits of mania. She had seen it with their dad, with their mom, and with Mikey. Carmen is the last needle needed to complete the fucked up haystack that engulfs their family. 

She’s tried to be positive. She’s tried to be kind. She’s trying to be the peacekeeper, but all of that falls out the window when her brother is bitching out everything that fucking blinks and breathes and Richie has slung a sledgehammer into the wrong wall that needed to be knocked down. 

Natalie has never thought of looking into Botox until now; when her face is set in a permanent scowl and her resting heart rate nears triple digits. Pete had been telling her for the past three weeks that she was doing amazing; that this was an impossible task to complete stress-free, and that the stress was “good” because it meant that she cared. 

Sometimes she doesn’t realize that not everyone has a mom who drives the fucking car through the den during Christmas Eve dinner nor does everyone have a mom who moves all the furniture to the backyard before having to leave for their oldest brother’s high school graduation. Not everyone has an older brother who blows his head off and doesn’t leave a note and not everyone has a younger brother who would lose his head if it wasn’t attached to his body and had his mouth that was spewing hurtful insults by the dozen.

Stress does not mean that you care. Stress means that your eyes are staring at the fucking Sun trying to see where the other shoe is getting ready to drop because there’s always another disappointment and always another phone call to make to the pharmacy for more SSRIs. 

Needless to say, Richie calling Neil “lard ass” on an antagonizing loop after he had pointed out the wrong wall was being destroyed was the last straw. Well, that and the fact she found a new patch of white hairs colonizing on her hairline the other morning. Constant shouted insults, gray hairs popping up overnight, and the colossal secret of a new infant making its arrival into the chaos in October weigh heavy on her. And she absolutely cannot afford to lose her cool and become the kind of bitchy and mean she knows that she’s capable of. 

Your phone number sits inside the LED-lit text thread of a friend she had known in high school. Becca was the older sister of Claire Cantor whom her little brother may have or may have not had a pathetic crush on years ago when he was in high school. 

She feels kind of grimy doing what she is; offering up information about Carmy to Becca to give to Claire who apparently thought her baby brother was the bee's knees (which, if she saw the way he was acting right now, Natalie knows she would run the other way). She doesn’t even think Carmen has the capability to think of anything outside of the restaurant and the menu and how royally fucked they all are. 

She can feel the dull ache of guilt in her chest that comes with knowing how unlikely anything is to come from this, and how wrong she is for pretending like her telling Becca where he grocery shops or if he has a girlfriend or if he was currently looking for someone to date would somehow tether Claire to a world where her and Carmen are a “thing” (because apparently “boyfriend and girlfriend” is too permanent of a word for Chicagoan twenty-somethings to use). 

But she’s doing it for the sake of everyone else! It can’t possibly be as gross and low-lived as she feels it is. 

Becca Cantor is insufferable and can only be taken in small doses, but she’s also a big wig junior partner at one of the most lucrative law firms in Chicago. Natalie hates blowing smoke up people’s asses who don’t deserve it (and in Becca’s case certainly don’t need it), but she desperately needs help and knows that she needs to figure something out before she fucks herself in such a deep hole that she couldn’t attempt to unfuck herself if she tried. 

Your official title is “junior associate” and you had been working at Becca’s firm following your graduation from Northwestern’s Pritzker School of Law a couple of years prior. Becca had said you were amazing; freakishly smart, funny, and hardworking. She also mentioned that you were the best kind of junior associate; the ones that know when to shut the fuck up and when to get the fuck out of the way. The addition added before the text conversation ended was how you were looking to get your foot into the hospitality legal field, and how you were willing to do anything concerning that for free fucking ninety-nine if it meant you would have some experience. 

Natalie sits with her lower lip worried between her teeth and her hands one tick shy of shaking. Her heart beats erratically despite lounging on her couch with the lights off and a re-run of That 70’s Show playing softly in the background. She makes a mental note to bring up the high resting heart rate at her next OB appointment. 

It’s because she’s pregnant. Yes. It has to be because she’s pregnant. 

She shouldn’t be nervous. It would be absolutely ridiculous to be nervous. She’s not nervous. 

She already ran the idea past Sydney and she agreed that they absolutely needed a lawyer in their back pocket. With all of the tax records fucked beyond belief, new workers being hired who actually knew their worth and wouldn’t tolerate not having an actual employement contract, and the lack of permits under their belt currently, a lawyer wouldn’t hurt if getting one turned out to not be as helpful as anticipated. Besides, Becca had said you were doing it for them pro bono which in turn meant free fucking nintey-nine. 

But Natalie had lied to Carmen about how much some fluted cocktail glasses cost to ensure that they purchased the cheaper ones so that she could run the numbers and figure out a way to put you on the payroll. Pro bono or not, you’re doing them a huge favor and part of her can’t put the peacekeeping to rest. 

Her fingers type and untype a novel of characters. She can’t seem to relax her mind enough to articulate what exactly she wants to say. She has one shot to not scare you off and not lose her mind in a fit of fiery rage and not have everything turn to shit and it be her fault. She has to be perfect. 

Fuck. She is nervous. 

Hi! This is Natalie Berzatto. I’m one of Becca Cantor’s friends and she referred me to you. I’m working on opening a restaurant and would like for you to swing by and discuss some things about it if you’re open to that! Please let me know. I’m looking forward to hearing back from you soon! 

Nat’s finger hits the blue “send” arrow in the rounded box of her phone screen the same time she pushes a gag to the back of her throat. She used to work at a marketing firm for Christ’s sake. Cold contacting people isn’t anything new and she’s usually not one to shy away from reaching out to anyone in her personal life first. But she can’t help the fact that she’s never been able to swallow the artificial bubble gummy niceness of reaching out to a complete stranger for the first time. She feels stupid and knows that she sounds even stupider but tries not to think about it. 

Besides, keeping everything together is never easy and she knows that she would be selfish for letting her discomfort prevent her from doing what she knows is best. 

Her breath is stuck in her chest as she eyes the open text thread to an unsaved number; her blue text message staring at her menacingly and breeding contempt as the seconds pass. She gasps loudly whenever she sees the gray bubbles pop up beneath it. Pete pokes his head into the living room with a tea towel in his hand and one of the ceramic plates they had eaten dinner on in the other. His eyes wear concern but he knows better than to confront his wife. Natalie was anything but sugary sweet when she was stressed and the influx of hormones as of late have not been helping. 

You see the message as soon as Natalie sends it. The unknown “312” number finds its way into your notifications and your eyes read over the words in a frenzy. You know that you’re intelligent. You graduated from law school for fuck’s sake, but for some reason you absolutely cannot comprehend the text you’re reading. 

Firstly, you were sure Becca hated your fucking guts. She was a junior partner that everyone hated being assigned to because she pushed all her work onto the associates and nothing ever seemed to be good enough for her. Part of the reason you had to take work home tonight was because she sent you an email with enough passive-aggressive undertone to know that these edits needed to be done now; never mind the fact that the time she took to type out the seven and a half page report about the original report probably took up so much time that she could’ve done the task herself. But yet you replied kindly and have been working through your brain fog and finger cramps since arriving home at six in the evening five hours ago. 

Secondly, hospitality litigation was absolutely above your pay grade. You had taken one elective course on it during your 2L year and did a two-week internship before the start of 3L simply because one of your friends wanted to go on vacation and needed to find someone to cover for them. You know jack shit about hospitality law and you don’t even know why Becca Cantor, of all fucking people, would be so willing to recommend you when she couldn’t care less if you lived or died. 

But of course, you can’t say no. You can never say no, and if this Natalie person was desperate enough to reach out to you via text at 11 PM on a Wednesday, she definitely needed help and needed it now. Besides, you would tell her that you do not need to be paid and if whatever she needs proves to be way too advanced for you, you can always help her find an attorney that knows what they’re doing.

Right? 

It definitely doesn’t mean that you’ll pull an all-nighter and research every aspect of hospitality law in Illinois that you can get your hands on. . .Or look up every department dealing with food and management regulations in the state. . .Or try and look at precedent cases. Your firm gave you unlimited access to West Law. Might as well use it for something slightly more interesting than trusts, estates, and contracts. 

You’re unusually pensive for something you know you would love to do. The ongoing battle as of late has been the dispute between seeking joy and wading in practicality; happiness or falsified peace? 

You rub your eyes with a roughness that would make your optometrist cringe. You know that staring at your computer screen five hours after your contracted work hours ended was the culprit for your dry eyes, but the hours you need are not going to bill themselves. Getting up to get your eyedrops will have to wait.

Replying to Natalie cannot. 

Your fingers type and untype; the feeling of texting back an unknown number foreign and unnerving. 

Thanks so much for reaching out and thinking of me! I would love to. What dates and times work for you, and where would it be best for us to meet? 

The text stares at you on your phone screen. Why do you sound so. . . corporate? Boring? Infantile.

She could probably tell you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about at all. The feeling of defeat rises in your throat but you ignore it and hit send instead. You’re trying to be better about that; letting your fear of uncertainty keep you from taking action. You’ve come to realize that the hard part isn’t doing the thing. It’s actually sitting in the aftermath of the “thing” and waiting for the rest of the world to catch up. 

You bite your lip so hard it begins to bleed and throbs with each pulse of watery blood that fills your mouth. The gentle suck you give it to stop the bleeding makes it partially numb. 

Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. Fuck you, Becca. 

Natalie chirps when your text illuminates her screen. She gasps and sits up; startling Pete who had settled next to her after finishing the dishes. Her eyes curl up in the same way her lips do. 

Fucking finally. 

The world no longer feels like it’ll fall apart.

[yorshie]

Cistern

bayverse turtles x fem reader (No Y/N)

Summary: The Boys have a surprise pool party waiting for you in the sewers. Some lewd jokes if you squint. nicknames and fluff

set in 2023 so turtles are 22 ish

When you side stepped through the turnstiles and into the lair, you expected to be greeted by all four of the turtles. Instead, only the smallest of the brothers was there, playing away on his phone and humming a lively tune.

“Mikey?” You parked your butt on the table next to him, bare legs brushing against his arm as he looked up from whatever game he was using to pass the time.

“Hey, babycakes! Woo-woo, look at you!” He waggled his eye ridges, looking you up and down. “Really glad I drew the stick to bring you to the surprise.”

You felt your face heat up, but gave him a smile all the same, glancing down his body to take in the lack of weapons and his loose orange and black swim trunks. “Well, Leo said wear comfortable clothes I didn’t mind getting wet?”

“Heh.” The orange turtle pocketed his phone, using one movement to sway to his feet and lift you up into his arms. “Hope you’re ok with a bit of an adventure, babes. We gotta go through some of the larger tunnels to get where we’re going.”

You crossed your arms around his neck, slinging your bag up and over your stomach so he could get a better grip. “You’re not going to drop me into anything nasty, are you Angelo?”

“Oh, babes, I’d never drop you.” He winked, doing a little dance towards the entrance to make you laugh.

The sound of running water grew louder the closer you two got to the ‘surprise’. Mikey was horrible when it came to keeping secrets, especially when it involved anything his brothers planned that included you.

So far, you had weaseled out of him that there was a waterfall involved, and some sort of swimming would be required. That last bit worried you, but you comforted yourself that surely nothing too deep could exist in the underground system of tunnels.

At the last bend, Mikey slapped his large hand over your face and tucked your head into his shoulder, causing you to giggle as you fought to peek between his fingers.  Finally, he let you win, and you were able to pull his hand down and lean back up to take in the view. 

“Woah.” The word left your lips in a soft whisper.

Mikey had brought you to a giant stone cistern far below the city streets. Crystal clear blue water stretched off between columns as far as you could see. The arched ceiling was littered with lights to keep the light a soft glow. Against the furthest wall a rounded opening high above spilled water out into the pool. The ripples were the only disturbance, the crash of water somehow a distance echo with the calm ambiance.

“Took you long enough.” Leo’s soft voice, the eldest moving up a set of stone steps you’d completely missed. You flicked a look over him, his form a little alien without the twin swords strapped across his back and his arms uncovered.

“Don’t get jealous, Leo, that particular shade of green is unbecoming on you.” Mikey singsonged, causing his brother to roll his eyes.

“The water’s clean?” You asked, before you held up a hand, physically pushing the question away. “No, don’t answer that. That was a stupid question.”

Leo chuckled, but only tilted his head back towards the stairs, hand reaching out for you to pass your bag over. “Donnie’s been working on this for years, ever since we found it. We wanted to make sure everything worked as intended before we invited you down.”

You hummed back at him to show you were listening, clutching Mikey tighter as he all but skipped down the stairs to a path jutting out between the columns.

“You drop her, shell-brain, and I’ll beat your ass.” 

You had to do a double take to find him, but Raph was floating in the water, peering up over the stone edge to eye his baby brother critically. 

“Relax Raph, I’d never drop her. Throw her, however-”

You barely registered the words before you were flying through the air with a shriek, stomach ticking up in your throat before the swoop of the fall. You hit the cool water hard, limbs tangled and your side taking most of the hit.

You regretted never telling them you couldn’t swim.

You resisted the urge to take a breath, the shock of impact causing you to freeze up as you slipped under the surface. You had a moment of clear wonder at the way the light reflected like dancing arcs through the water and off the stone, before you realized the cistern was much deeper than you expected, and Mikey had thrown you well away from the wall.

Your chest was starting to burn, and you tried to think back to how people in movies swam. Before you could get through more than a handful of uncoordinated movements however, a strong grip circled your arm at the same time something shoved you from below. Looking down, you could see Leo’s shell, his arms twining around your legs to push you up towards the surface.

You broke the surface with a ragged gasp, sputtering as that large hand wrapped around your torso and pulled you off Leo’s shoulders. 

Raph used his other hand to rub your back briskly, the up and down motion causing your shirt to pull at your skin.

Leo broke through the water in front of you, blinking back his second set of eyelids to glare at you. “You can’t swim?”

You floundered, sucked in a too loud breath, and watched as the knowledge settled in him and his ire turned to Mikey. “Mikey!”

“Woah, bro, how was I suppose to know?”

“This is why we don’t go tossin’ guests ‘round!” Raph thundered, aiming a splash at Mikey.

You gripped Raph’s arm tightly, bobbing in the water as he pulled you back towards the edge. When he tried to transfer you to the stone, however, you sunk your nails in, preferring the solid, constant aura of strength he oozed.

“Hey, babes, you ok?” Mikey was hunched on his hands and knees next to the edge, and you glanced up at him, blinking away water to meet his concerned gaze. Before you could say anything though, Raph grabbed the top lip of his shell and hauled him into the water with a squawk.

“Hold on, sweetheart, go to Leo so I can drown his ass.” His free hand kept Mikey effortlessly under the water despite his thrashing, and you all but threw yourself towards the turtle in blue to escape the sloshing water.

He slid an arm around your waist before pushing you up towards his shell, letting you sprawl across the width and grip the edge as he swam away from Mikey’s punishment.

“We should have asked if you could swim.” He offered over his shoulder, the sounds of fighting breaking out behind you both. 

You twisted on his shell, peered over your shoulder to see Mikey had broken the surface and while Raph was big and angry, Mikey was just barely faster than him in the water.

“I should have told you guys. I just-”

“-didn’t think about it.” He finished, blue eyes clear of judgement. “I hope you aren’t scared now?” He was heading out into one of the larger sections of water, closer to the waterfall, and the ripples lapped over the curve of his shell and your legs as he cut through the water effortlessly.

“I don’t think it’s possible for me to be afraid with you guys around.” Leo let out a pleased rumble at your words, and you continued. “Speaking of, where’s Donnie?”

As though summoned, the water broke over the curve of the last brothers’ shell next to you, a squinty eyed Donnie peering up at you after blinking back his protective membrane.

“Hey, you made it.” He seemed pleased, reaching out to brush against your arm as he rolled over in the water to float on his shell, bare except for neon purple shorts. He grinned, knocking purposefully into Leo’s shell. “First time here and you’ve already turned Leo into a turtle taxi.”

Leo huffed under you. “She can’t swim, Dee.”

That brought the tallest brother up short. “What? You can’t swim?” At your nod, his lips pursed. “Well, that’s not good. Maybe some lessons?”

Before you could groan at the fact that they’d somehow worked training into what was suppose to be a day for relaxing, Leo was nodding, disappearing under the water to pull you off his shell.

“We’ll start with something easy. All you have to do is swim to Donnie.” He held you upright in the water, away from the heat of his body despite your insistence to cling to him.

“Orrrr- we could take the turtle taxi underwater?” You tried to dangle the notion in front of them like a treat, knowing they liked to show off for you, but they both shook their heads.

“This is important. What if you were alone for some reason and fell in?” Leo reasoned.

“Then it’s my time to go.” You deadpanned, knowing you’d never get out of it now but needing the stress relief of sassing back at them.

Leo snorted, the soft sound almost lost as you eyed the distance to Donnie. With an intake of breath, you kicked off his chest, arms coming up to sweep in an arc before you madly grabbed onto Donnie’s proffered arm.

“Well done!” He chirped at you, letting you cling to him for a moment.

“Don’t chirp at me, I’m mad at you both.” You sulked, but let him pull you further away, taking his offered hand. Your four fingers slotted in between his two, the stretch slightly awkward with how big his knuckles were.

“Hm, well, maybe we can focus on treading water for a moment?” His palm was cool on your other arm, supporting your elbow just under the surface of the water. “Kick your legs, like that.” He grinned at you again, following as you slowly turned them both in the water. “There you go, you’re a natural!” 

It was hard to stay mad at him, as giddy as he became at your success. It became even harder when he lifted your clasped hands up high, twirling you in the water until you laughed, before facing towards Leo once more. 

“Now, back to Leo.” His fingers slipped from your own, receding to mimic the other at your elbow as he waited for you to move.

You eyed the distance, noticing it had widened a little.

“C’mon,” Leo called, arms swept towards you, “I’m right here.” 

You huffed, then took a reflexive gulp of air before arcing for him. You’d almost reached him, when without warning, he pulled back, movements easy as he swam a little further away.

“Wait! Come back!” You floundered at the end of your arc. “You ass!” You bobbed under in a moment of panic, swallowing a large gulp of water in the process, before slapping the water desperately as you followed after him. You felt more than heard his chuckle as you bodily hugged him, legs coming up to hook on the edges of his shell as he widened the distance.

“This time, when you get to the end of your arc, simply repeat the movement and kick your legs, like you did when you were treading the water! They’re way stronger than your arms, so use them!” Donnie called the instructions over to you.

“Your mom is stronger-” You muttered, low enough that only Leo heard, irritated at the both of them once more. You pushed off him again, childishly kicking water in his face as you arced for Donnie.

Upon reaching him, he offered you an arm, and you pressed it flat along your chest, hooking both arms over to bob next to him. He hummed, long and low, and you watched him phantom mime touching his glasses while giving you a look, taking in your expression.

He let you settle for a moment, before his hand grabbed onto your shirt, bunching up the material at your side. “Hold on.” 

He swung you in an arc, pulling you through the water, creating a wave with your body and pulling out an elated yelp. You could just barely hear Leo laughing at the look on your face over the sound of the water. Donnie turned back, using the momentum to pull you through the water in the opposite direction in a wide arc.

Finally, when your cheeks started aching, he relented, pulling you closer and letting you hook your hands on the lip of his shell over his shoulders. “Ah, there we go. Much better.” When you raised your brows at him, be smiled softly. “Ready to go again?”

They switched from letting you cling to them, to staying just out of reach, forcing you to follow in their wake as they swam close enough to nudge you back up above the surface every time you dipped under. 

You tired out quickly however, dipped more and more under the water, until something smooth touched your knee and you realized Raph was coming up next to you. 

“Grab on, princess, let’s ditch school.” His low baritone was pitched to a rumble, clearly goading, and you wasted no time lunging for the top ridge of his shell. He sent a well aimed squirt of water directly towards Leo’s face before he dipped back below the surface, giving you time to take a deep breath before he whisked you away.

Raph swam between columns, surfacing in timely intervals so you could take a breath until you were both quite away from the others. Then, he switched to floating along the surface, masked head just above the water enough to hear you speak.

“How long can you stay under?” You asked, leaning your weight fully against him and letting your arms trail in the water.

“Longer than you, doll face.” You snorted at the non-answer, relaxing back against him.

“Hey guys! I’m gonna cycle the lights!” Donnie’s voice echoed through the cistern, seconds before the sound of a large switch being flipped, and half the lights went out. 

“Stay up on my shell.” Raph warned. “I see pretty good in the dark, but no point in tempting fate with how tired you are.”

You gripped the edge of his shell again, pulling yourself further out of the water.

“Ok! Check this out!”

Another switch, and the lights slowly flickered back to life, much softer and in different colors. You chuckled as blue, red, orange and purple flashed in the water below, the lights along the ceiling dimming further.

“Nice!” You called out to Donnie, before leaning back down to lay against Raph, watching as the water changed the tone of your skin color as you trailed your arms through it again.

“Damn, Don, that’s pretty cool.” Raph sunk his head under for a minute, before he tapped your leg, prompting you to hold onto him once again and take a deep breath.

He pulled you deeper into the water this time, turning slightly so you could take in the way the lights played across the surface above you. Eventually though, you reached forward to tap his shoulder, and he quickly swam back up. You broke the surface with a loud gasp and a stream of mist as Raph cleared his nostrils.

The sight made you cackle before groaning in disgust as the mist swept back towards you. “Ewwwww!”

“You two ok over there?” Leo’s voice echoed in the gloom, and you stifled the amusement rising up your throat as Raph started swimming in the opposite direction.

“Fine, Fearless! Don’t mother hen us.” 

“You’re like- like a giant-”

“You finish that sentence, sweetheart, and I’ll dump you back with Mr. schoolmarm over there.”

You hid your chuckle against the surface of his shell, almost jumping at the rumble he gave back. Peering over the edge, you watched the water ripple outwards, before the sound in Raph’s chest deepened and the water started hopping around you both, droplets seemingly suspended in mid air, growing taller the louder he got. The sound rattled your chest, your bones, your skin numbing where it was pressed against the slope of his shell.

“Raph,” you reached out, laid your palm flat against the water and let the vibrations tickle your skin. Your voice sounded as if you were talking into a fan. “What is this? How are you doing that?”

“Eh?” A dip in the sound, as he blinked up at you, and you got the distinct impression he was scrambling to answer. “Oh, don’t worry about that, sweetheart. It’s a turtle thing.”

“Hmmmm. Hey Donnie!” You cupped your hands, sitting up so the call would echo more. 

“Shit.” Raph bolted, and you had to scramble for a hold, cackling madly as he took off in the water, determined to outrun his brothers long enough for you to forget asking his genius brother for an explanation.

[answer2jeff]

fixer-upper. // lip gallagher

lip x biker-girl!OC

warnings : public sex, oral (m!receiving), praise kink, light to rough hair-pulling, unestablished relationship, intense and obvious flirting, porn with plot and detail, mentions of smoking (tobacco), cursing, OC is just as full of herself as Lip, knows she's a bitch, kinda has a weird sense of possessiveness over him?? clunky and overly detailed writing with a journaling/diary style.

authors note : trying something a little different! using the first person POV with an original character. first time writing this way—still getting the hang of it <3 this is REALLY long...sorry.

song : beauty school.

disclaimer : you can picture the OC however you like! her name is really just used for aesthetic purposes. there isn't much description on her appearance other than the fact that her hair is long enough to put it in a ponytail. enjoy!

Great. Fucking great.

One of my tires is punctured. The visor in my helmet is cracked. My elbows are etched with surface level scratches and dried blood. And the engine cover of my bike has finally snapped off. I had it coming. It was an old piece of rusty junk from my cousins garage sale from 2012, anyway. But it had charm. I knew I was gonna miss that bike for the good couple of hours, possibly days, I would reluctantly end up leaving it in a repair shop down the street from my apartment.

I can hear the squelch of skin, the seal between my hot breath and sweaty skin breaking as lift my helmet from my head. I hope to feel a rush of cool air, but the humidity tells me to go fuck myself. I'm pulled over onto the curb. I can't totally remember how I got there; being in the middle of the street on a scorching summer day wearing denim shorts that chafe up my inner thighs and rub my skin until it is raw and red and unbearably itchy, was not my vision for today. My handlebars are loose. That would explain it.

If I just take it to Born Free Cycles, leave it overnight, and come back in the morning, I can act like this whole thing never happened, and I'm not horribly irresponsible.

40th West View Ave.

Oh. I'm close actually. Barely a block away. I should go there now. I can call Mikey and have him drop me and the bike off at the garage. I'll see that kid with the grown out buzz-cut and black motor grease on his knuckles that somehow always transfers and blots on his face. Specifically on his strong jaw and right before the peak of his hairline. I wonder if he notices. Maybe he doesn't clean it off because it gives him edge that he doesn't need. Like the nickname on his name tag on a black uniform hadn't given his thirst for trouble away already. And the circles under his eyes are almost the same shade of smudged charcoal grey.

I wonder if he notices.

—

"So the engine cover popped? Just—" he shrugs, looking up at me as if I can't understand him "clean off?"

The sunlight bleeds in through the open garage door. It shines behind Lip, casting a shadow that makes his face hard to see perfectly. But I know the look he's conveying. His eyebrows are raised but drawn slightly closer together, his teeth are gnawing at the inside of his cheek so he can stifle a smile and the laugh that will follow soon after, and his blinks remain slow. I try not to smile too. But I fail.

I've only been here about 3 times, really. The first time was to get handlebar grips from Eddie. That was when I saw Lip. I chose not to make any kind of move, but it ate at my insides until the second time. That time was with Mikey. I was preoccupied with the blue-eyed kid, propped up on a workbench and throwing mindless flirty implications at him while he took long drags from a cigarette, to remember why Mikey was even doing there and why he dragged me along with him. His laugh, the playful eye-roll after I complimented his sweat-laden blonde curls weighed down by heat humidity, told me he was on board.

But I wasn't done.

I knew this time I'd pounce for what was mine.

"Yeah," I breathe out, crossing my arms and peering down at him, "And I mighta' been redlining the RPM a little too much. Probably fried the fucking thing."

Lip nods, the corner of his mouth curling up just a bit. He beckons his hand toward himself, telling me to kneel down beside him to inspect the bike. "This things kinda old, huh?" He teases, turning his head to me and finally letting a real smile break. It warms something in me. I shrug. He glances at my white tank-top, covered in black stains of dirt and oil.

"It's not great, no. It's a piece of shit. But it's cute!" I play along with him, taking the hairband on my wrist and twisting my hair into a high ponytail. Lip huffs though his nose, shaking his head and laughing again.

The next couple of minutes are filled with him telling me things I already know. Things I was too exhausted to manage on my own, defeating the whole purpose of why I was here. Fuck the bike. I know what's wrong with the bike. I know it's an old piece of junk and it's barely salvageable. You should know why I'm here. And maybe you do. But you should do something about it.

Lip has this way of speaking to me that feels ridiculously sweet and overly 'cool.' I know it's just his cadence and his cockiness, but I like it. I like that he thinks it makes me swoon. Partially because he's right, but mostly because I've mastered hiding it. He doesn't see my heart pound or the rising heat in my abdomen when he cracks his knuckles or puts a hand on my shoulder and let's it travel down to the small of my back when I crouch down beside him to look at another motorcycle he's trying to save. I'm almost certain he convinces himself that my gestures are nothing more than a meaningless flirt. I simply find him attractive, as does everyone. Nothing more.

But he's got it all wrong.

He knows my intentions somewhat well enough to the point where he can't not flirt back, though. He knows I haven't stopped him from letting his eyes travel from mine to my lips whenever I speak. He likes that I let him light my cigarettes for me. But he doesn't know this isn't just for fun. I'm so hyper-aware that it isn't out of the kindness of his heart. And neither are his compliments and lame jokes he makes to impress me. He treats my attraction to him as fact, but my genuine interest as a possibility.

Again, he's wrong.

I can't wrap my head around how he could reciprocate my efforts without ever pushing the envelope and asking to exchange numbers, or if I had a boyfriend, or maybe he had one of his own. No, no. He'd tell me if he had a girlfriend. He is, above all else, loyal.

Lip's what I want. I meant when I said his hair looked nice. I meant when I gave him a 20-dollar gratuity and a peck on his cheek just for giving me a repair cost estimate on my shattered headlight. I smile any time he says my name: Maeve.

Hey Maeve, back so soon, huh?

Hand me that box, Maeve.

Y'alright, Maeve?

Yo, Maeve, wanna bum one?

Maeve, Maeve, Maeve.

—

"Think you'll be back tomorrow to pick it up? No rush, though. I can keep it 'till you're ready," Lip asks me, leaning against the wooden workbench littered with microfiber towels and tools. His swell arms are crossed to his chest. I nod, coating my fingertips with a thin film of spin while I fish out some cash from my beat up faux leather wallet.

"A-huh. Thanks," I hand him 6 twenties before glancing at the opening of his button-down uniform.

The corner of my mouth lifts itself into a knowing smirk, my hand on my hip as I shift my weight to it, making my chest stick out and my spine bend correspondingly. My lips hang open a measly centimeter apart before I draw the bottom one between my teeth. I watch him sort through the cash, biting down harder on the flesh of my lip when he freezes.

"Looks like you're a good 15 short," he barely mumbles, looking up at me through his eyelashes. His brows narrow down to me again. I click my tongue coyly. I step closer to him, my hand, with fingernails painted black, pushing the cash in his palms down and his arms down with it.

"About that..." I pause, tilting my head with a look of naivety and not bothering to push away the strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail and over my eye. Instead, I wait and let Lip set the pile of cash down and draw the curtain of my hair open to reveal my face. My stomach twists on itself, and I can practically feel his chest rising and falling with every anxious breath in my own lungs.

I beg to whatever higher power lies above us in this garage that a kiss will work. Not that it usually doesn't, but my form isn't as confident as it typically would be. The guys I wrap around my finger aren't as driven as Lip is. And God, none of them are part of my tantalizing daydreams nearly as often as he is. I picture his rough hands exploring me, squeezing and rubbing over the valleys of my skin. I imagine his breath is hot with the taste of mint and cigarettes. Every part of me wants to know if my predictions are accurate. If he's the type to sink his teeth into my neck and shoulder blades just to apologize to the reddening skin with open-mouthed kisses. The anticipation kills me. It's enough to swallow me whole.

"...Maybe I can pay you back a different way?"

I barely whisper and Lip scoffs, glancing away from my gaze, scanning the area just for it to be completely empty. He comes back to me. His eyes go a little wider than before. Almost to say, 'oh shit, you're serious?' I stick my tongue between my teeth and tug on his uniform, feeling the fabric rub between my sweaty fingertips. My eyes watch Lip's adam's apple bob as he swallows a breath.

"Yeah?" He thumbs my bottom lip and pulls it down, his free hand traveling down to my hip and pulling me closer to him, "what were y'thinking, Maeve?"

"Mmmm," I hum while pressing my hand against his chest while the other cups his cheek, and I let the pad of my thumb graze over the grove of his defined cheekbones. "Dunno yet."

My teasing is much to Lip's dismay, but he handles it quite well. It's sobering to see a guy as seemingly self-involved and easily impressed play into my mind games. It only pushes me further, and he knows it. I crash my lips into his, my hands anchoring themselves on his shoulders for support. He sighs into me, a hand reaching down to hook a finger through the belt loop of my shorts and drag me closer to him. His hand cups my cheek and pulls me into his mouth to let his tongue slip past my own. And he tastes just as I expected. Minty, smoky, and mine. I practically grind my self onto him in complete desperation, feeling him harden under me. Every roll of his hips threatens to send me over the edge. And fuck, his muffled groans of pleasure against my mouth that ring in my ears are hypnotic. But even with his sturdy, growing buldge forcing the fabric of my shorts to press roughly on my clit, I need this to last.

Blissfully and ever so slowly.

I finally pull away to catch my breath, the buck of our waists slowing down. My head feels fuzzy and heat rises in my cheeks when I open my eyes to see how flushed Lip's face is. Even the tips of his ears have turned a little red. I smile, giggling like a teenager who just kissed her crush in a closet at a house party as a dare. He laughs back in a way that asks 'what are we even doing?'

"Thought you had a boyfriend."

I pause, my eyebrows knitted. I try to think of who he could possibly be referring to.

Ah.

"Who? Mikey?" I try not to laugh, looking around to the imaginary audience to check if they're really hearing this nonsense too, "ew, no. He's like my brother."

Lip lets out a breath of relief he almost didn't realize he'd been holding. It surprises me. Probably a lot more than it should. But hey, for the other 3 times I've been here, I kept asking myself why his flirting was just as intense as mine, but he never asked for my number or made a true move on me. To think that my friend had been unintentionally cockblocking me with his ridiculous height and horrid American traditional tattoos all over his arms, and it wasn't because the guy had a girlfriend...it's almost funny.

"Oh," he replies, his eyebrows raising. Now both of his hands rest at my hips.

"What? Is that why you left me hangin' when I did this?" I press a kiss against his cheek, my palm rubbing over his shoulder to pull a chuckle out of him.

"I guess so, yeah. Just didn't want him to kill me for getting to close t'you," he kisses my cheek, smiling again.

"Geez. Mikey wouldn't hurt a fucking fly. He just...looks scary. Plus, nobody tells me what to do."

"Noted. Glad to hear that, actually."

"Mikey is—" I pause, biting the inside of my cheek "a sweet guy."

"Uh-huh."

"Too sweet. And I hate the aftershave he uses. He's—he's entirely too much."

"Mm."

"Whatever. Shut up."

"Didn't say anything," he shrugs, trying and failing to act clueless.

Fuck. He's fucking glad. He's glad I don't have a stupid-waste-of-my-time-cockblocking-boyfriend on my hip who's constantly watching my every move and stopping me from giving all of myself to Lip. Hell, I'm glad too. Very glad. With one swift movement, I take matters into my own hands again. I undo every last plastic button on his uniform, snaking down his chest and abdomen. I latch onto his neck, biting the skin and sucking a bruising hickey. He shivers beneath me and wraps his hand around my ponytail, huffing breathless chuckles and slowly getting more and more frustrated with my agonizingly slow, torturing pace for foreplay.

I bend my knees to begin my descend to the ground, kissing down his torso. My hands travel down his sides. Lip gently lets go of my hair to lean back into the workbench, never letting his head reel back so he can carefully watch me tenderly adhere to his needs while anchoring his hands behind him for support. I giggle to myself, relishing in the affect I have on him.

Shit. This is risky. Screw it. Pretty girl without a boyfriend who tips in 20 dollar bills and blowjobs? How could I say no? No part of me wants to back out, Lip's mind races, his grip tightening on the wooden slab as he clenches his jaw.

I wonder if he's nervous. Or maybe he's done this time and time again: fucking a girl right in this garage. Possibly bent over this very work bench. Those girls must've been so easy. I can bet on my life that they were never as fun, never as wet, never as needy as me. This would be different. I wouldn't give him everything he wanted and more that quickly. A girl deserves to have her fun. She deserves to watch the overly confident guy she's fancied for weeks, who continues to play hard to get, squirm and writhe with every slight of hand she gives him.

And that's exactly what I'm doing.

"Y'having fun down there?" Lip chastises me, chuckling lightly to himself as he tilts his head down to get a better look at my face.

My kisses stop right above the waistband of his jogger pants. I look up at him pleadingly through my lashes, my eyes big with lust and cunning seduction. I pull the middle of the waistband down just so I can drag my tongue across the exposed skin just centimeters away from his cock. The curls of his happy trail tickle my chin, but the full body shiver and the shaky exhale of "fuck," as he tries to keep his composure, makes it so worth it. He finally shuts his eyes, head reeling back. I lick my lips and smile, cupping his groin before he can even think about looking back down and feeling the blood rush to his cock again. His twitching dick underneath my palm sends me sitting on my heel, ready to slowly rock my hips down into it to fill my desperate need for friction. My cotton panties are definitely soaked.

I can't waste any more time.

I remove my hand from his crotch and quickly pull his pants and his boxers down with them. They pool at his ankles, and his cock strains hard and leaking sticky, crystal clear pre-cum from the thick and aching tip. My mouth nearly drops. I admire every vein, letting my hand wrap around the base of his cock once I've spit into it as makeshift lubricant. I'm so lost that I don't even register Lip peering down at me, swallowing impatiently.

"My, you're so worked up, Lip. And I haven't even started." I don't bother to look up at him as I rub my hand up and down his shaft, worried his pretty face will distract me. But I can picture him perfectly.

"Fuck you," he huffs through a struggled laugh, covering his mouth as he groans in pleasure at the feeling of my hand squeezing his cock every once and a while as I slowly pump him up and down.

"Later," I retort. I bite down on my bottom lip, looking up at him again for permission. He nods, almost as if he's able to read my mind. My eyes shut and my stomach flutters. Soft lips cover the head, swirling my tongue over the slit. His tip leaves my mouth with a loud pop, and I lick a bold stripe along the thickets vein I can find.

"Jesus, fuck, Maeve!" He writhes, his breath hitched in his throat by me hollowing out my cheeks and taking nearly 3/4 of his total length into my mouth. Moans of pure bliss at the feeling of his cock enveloped by the wet warmth of my mouth echo through the garage. I fear he's too loud, but I decide not to care. Not now.

My hand pumps the rest of his cock that I don't fit into my mouth at the moment, while my free hand reaches for his. My eyes remain closed and my sucking maintains a steady pace as I bob my head up and down his cock. I grab his hand and set it on the top of my head, but he hesitates.

"W—you sure, Maeve? I don't wanna hurt you," he swallows, accidentally bucking his hips into my mouth and running his unoccupied hand through his sweaty curls. I detach myself from him, wiping the mixture of pre and spit from the corner of my mouth and finally looking up at him.

"You won't," I take a deep breath, "I won't let you. I'll tell you if 's too much, kay?"

"Okay. Maybe just—" he clears his throat "tap my leg 3 times? And I'll...uh—I'll let go? Yeah?" He looks beautiful. Flushed, bare, and oh so needy for my touch. I wish I could keep him like this forever. He's so compliant, so understanding. But part of me knows that once I let him do this, it'll show me the side of him I've really been praying to see.

I nod, smiling contently and feeling myself blush when he twirls his fingers around my ponytail again. He bends over just the smallest bit to cup my chin and smile back. The pad of his thumb grazes over my skin before he lets go. I take it as my sign to go back, pressing my hands against either of his thighs and feeling clit jump with excitement when Lip tugs at my hair the moment I take his cock into my mouth again. I bob my head up and down, my eyes rolling back when his tip hits the back of my throat. Tears prick at my waterline as I struggle not to cough.

I grow even more desperate. My hand dives into my shorts and I slide two of my fingers inside of me, unfortunately never living up to the potential size and feeling of Lip's. The continuous ram into my gummy and tender spot causes me to fall apart, whining with his dick occupying the space in my mouth.

"Oh my God," Lip nearly whines, his grip tightening as he guides my head up and down his dick, but it's so gentle it never startles me, "so fuckin' good, baby. Jesus, fu—ah..keep doin' that. Yes, fuck.."

My tongue swishes over and under his cock in mind-numbing patterns, and I can't help but let little muffled moans escape my throat and vibrate against him. He almost can't contain himself: bucking his hips and practically fucking my throat. I do my best to cancel out the occasional gag so quickly he won't feel guilty and possibly stop.

Use me, I think.

Usually, I'd take the lead, never letting a head pusher take the role. But not this time. Lip's so pent up, so stressed with the complexities of his life. This is a kind gesture. One that involves tears of struggle spilling out of my eyes and streaming down ky cheeks. But fuck, I love it. It's filthy. It's nasty the way I nearly suck him dry. I can't remember the last time a blowjob was this fun.

"Such a good girl. Y'know that?" He looks down at me, biting his lip as his eyebrows knit in pleasure and desperate need to cum down my pretty little throat, "how'd you get so fuckin...so fuckin' good at this, baby? Shit—feels so good."

He babbles over and over again, and I'm taking strategic breaths through my nose and speeding the pace of my fingers as they thrust in and out of me so I don't stop him from releasing the way he absolutely deserves. Finally, he pulls my ponytail tighter than he ever has, warning me that he's about to cum, but by the time he tells me, it sends down my throat. He groans out, releasing my hair and going limp. I swallow the salty substance, blinking out the last few tears in my eyes and sliding my fingers out of me.

—

Lip: 1 message.

Hey. 11:47pm

Hey. Miss me already? 11:52pm

Something like that, yeah. 11:56pm

What's up 11:58pm

I get off early tomorrow. Just wondering if you wanted to come by the shop and hang out for a bit? 11:59pm

Sure. See you then. xoxo 12:03am.

—

current taglist : @lemmejustpulloutmylightsaber @sexyyounglatinoboy @febris-amatoria

[naviaknell777]

Dyeing/Cutting Your Hair Headcanons!

All ROTTMNT boys x gn reader (romantic+established relationship)

[Requested from Quotev. Requests currently CLOSED] Posted 10/31/23, happy Halloween!

On a whim, you decided it was time to change up your look

You’ve had this hair length and color for a long while, and it was time to change things up for once!

So impulsively, you booked the soonest appointment to your hair salon, deciding that it would be a surprise for your boyfriend as well

You directed the hairdresser the way you wanted your hair, the shade of the color(s), and by the end of it, you could barely recognize the person in the mirror, but you couldn’t be happier to see the new you with your new hair style!

You just hoped your boyfriend would be happy with your new look!!

Raph

Wasn’t expecting the new change, but loved it anyway!

He really doesn't care what you change your hair to, or even if you got a new tattoo or piercing, he just love you

No matter what you look like he loves you either way, but he thinks your new haircut and color is amazing

“Wow! Your new look is awesome, [n/n]!”

“Ooh, and that color is perfect for you too!”

He’ll throw a thumbs up as well, smiling cause he just loves you so much

Will stare at your new hair for a bit, he’s just absorbing the new look

Overall, thinks you look lovely per usual!

Bonus points if you get it dyed red though, he’ll blush a bit more than normal

Leo

He’s a very go-with-the-flow kinda guy, so despite you not impulsively cutting/dyeing your hair before while you two were together, he’s not surprised when you impulsively do it

“Wow babe, you look good!”

“That color is really working for you!”

Will ask for a turn around from you so he can get a 360 of your new hair

Will probably touch your new hair too (unless you two explicitly stated boundaries when it comes to not touching your hair) just because he wants to

Bonus points if you get it dyed blue, will tease you about it specifically, and very much would love your new hair more if you had it dyed his signature color

“What, you love me so much you had to dye your hair blue? Can’t get me out of your head, huh?”

Mikey

Surprised and screamed cause he thinks you look amazing (not that you don’t normally look amazing, but you know what I mean)

Not actually sad he didn’t know about it but would’ve been happier to know about it at least right before you got it cut and dyed

“Ohmigosh [n/n]! Why didn’t you tell me?” He pouts “I so would’ve joined you or helped you pick out a shade of color!”

“Not that you don’t look amazing, because you do! I just like doing things with you!”

Would appreciate to know and go with you next time because he loves spending time with you and wants to experience it with you in the future if/when you get it cut/dyed again

Bonus points if you dye it orange, will fond over it

“Aww and your hair is orange now too! I love it so much!”

Donnie

Would definitely like to know ahead of time

He wanted to be mentally prepared for the new look

He likes to be an organized and somewhat prepared guy, so when you come to the lair with a new haircut and color he has to do a bit of a double take

Tries to be so supportive though

“W-wow, [y/n], your hair-“ and he smiles a bit awkwardly

It’s not that he’s mad at you, just a bit disappointed he didn’t know ahead of time

He still thinks you look handsome and beautiful and loves you no matter what! Just wants to know changes like this ahead of time is all

“You look good!”

Bonus points if you dye it purple, likes that you (probably) thought of him when choosing that color, will tease you lovingly like Leo

“Purple suits you well, [y/n].” And he smirks

Overall loves your new look, even if it did take him by surprise at first!

——

All Rights Reserved ©️NaviaKnell777 2023

[tangledinink]

Okay! One last I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? oneshot, and then next week we'll get a new chapter... and this week's piece is about Mikey! :) Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

It had all started with a beautiful shade of ultramarine.

And it wasn’t as if Mikey took issue with the color itself-- it was a lovely shade of blue. That wasn’t the problem. And quite frankly, he didn’t notice it at first, but at some point halfway through his fifth-period class, while his eyes were wandering idly around the room, looking at nothing in particular, just roaming for the sake of roaming while he listened… he had paused, frowned, and back-tracked to do a double-take.

Ultramarine?

That was so odd, because… Usually, Mona was midnight blue. Her life color was a lot darker than this, richer, slightly less saturated, and closer to a shade of navy than… this.

I mean. There was nothing wrong with it. Ultramarine was a good color. It looked good on her…!

But it wasn’t hers.

Mikey had frowned a bit, his brow twitching slightly. He had never seen anyone’s life color change before. Was that a thing?... He supposed he had no way of knowing since it was just this weird little quirk that he enjoyed on his own, so it wasn’t like he could look it up or ask anyone, but… he had never seen this happen before.

Did something happen to her, he wondered? He had worried about this for a bit and endeavored to check in with her later, just in case, but then had let it go. I mean, what was he supposed to do about it?

But then she wasn’t the only one.

He noticed it slowly, but more people’s colors seemed to shift throughout the remainder of the class. Bit by bit, things began to tilt just ever so slightly to either the left or right on the metaphorical color wheel, not wrong but not exactly right, either. By the time he got to his next class, everyone’s colors were just a little bit off, and beginning to blur slightly, kind of fuzzy around the edges, and Mikey was starting to freak out just a tiny bit.

The shimmering, bouncing lights came after that. They teased at the very edges of his vision, tickling at his eyelashes, but never there when he tried to turn around and see them. And the more it happened, the more nervous he became. His stomach flip-flopped, and he resisted the urge to fidget in his seat. Something felt… wrong. He wasn’t very focused for the rest of the class.

It had been just after the final bell of the day, amongst the chaos of the entire school’s excitement of being dismissed, racing through the hallway, when a portion of Mikey’s field of vision gave out from under him. And suddenly, there was this big, fuzzy patch of black on his left side. No matter how many times he blinked and rubbed at his eyes, it wouldn’t go away. It was suddenly like he was halfway blind. And then he for-real started to panic.

He was debating whether he should take out his phone and call one of his family members, like, right now, or if he should try to make his way to the nurse’s office on his own (could he still do that--? School was technically over--) when the pain started.

It was like being hit by a freight train. 

He nearly dropped his books at the impact of it when it truly settled in, the knot in his stomach from before now rising up into full-blown nausea, threatening to overtake him. He came to a very sudden stop in his journey, finding the nearest wall to hang onto and squeezing his eyes shut, fighting back the urge to vomit.

Oh my god.

It hurt so bad. 

The pain was absolutely dazzling, pulsing bright and vicious through his head. It felt like he had some sort of hot, heavy, alien creature attached to one side of his skull, burrowing its way into him, and he could feel its heartbeat. And it was absolutely all-encompassing. He couldn’t even make his feet move-- all he could do was stand there for a second and try to breathe, to swallow repeatedly, and try desperately not to throw up here in the hall.

For a second, he just stood there and he thought, maybe it’ll go away. 

Maybe it’ll get better.

But it was just getting worse.

It was so loud. It was so bright. Every voice and shuffled foot and slam of a locker door was like a drill buzzing straight into his brain, and the fluorescent lights overhead were eating him alive, and he couldn’t move, but he had to-- He had to do something.

He was so, so certain that if he stayed here any longer, he was absolutely going to die.

We gotta do something. Come on. Move. You have to get-- somewhere. Not here. To the nurse’s office. They’ll be able to help, but you have to move. Go on. Move! Move your feet! He begged, and eventually, miraculously, his nerves listened to him.

If anyone noticed him, stopped him, asked if he was okay, he couldn’t hear them, because he was putting every piece of energy that he had into making his body move instead of curling up into a little ball on the floor. A few tears were already beginning to track their way down his face as he trembled, panicked breaths rattling through his chest. He ducked and weaved past other students in his frantic retreat, but he couldn’t see anything properly out of his left side, and he kept bumping into people. And he wished he could stop and apologize and see if they were okay, but he couldn’t. He just-- He had to not be here. He really, really had to not be here. He was on the fifth floor. His goal, the nurse’s office, was on the ground level. 

Oh god. 

This was the worst pain he had ever experienced in his life.

He made it about as far as the stairwell before he couldn’t move anymore.

---

Once he hadn’t been able to make himself go any further, the pain and nausea overwhelming him, he had stopped for a bit, leaning against the cool concrete of the wall and clutching his books tight in his hands as he focused simply on breathing. 

At some point, he had taken out his phone, attempting to text one of his family members to send out an SOS, to tell them that he was fucking dying in the stairwell and that he loved them and that his final wish was for them to give all his artwork to the MOMA, ‘cause they’d be damn lucky to have it, thank you, and everything else to charity, but it was like looking at the goddamn sun. Every time he tried to draft out a message or even just navigate enough to place a phone call (at this point he was tempted to just straight up call 911, which felt pretty dramatic for a headache, but every second that passed the statement ‘I’m dying’ felt a lot less like hyperbole and a lot more like a real, actual possibility,) he was hit with this bright, hot white pain on top of the already thick layer of pain and his head would throb and his stomach would lurch and his knees would buckle, and eventually, after a few attempts and a good deal of frustrated crying, he just gave up.

By the time he had gotten here, the crowd had already thinned out quite a bit, with the main max exodus of the final bell already having tapered off. Only the occasional group of students would come through, and some of them looked at him, but with him crying softly and squinting at his phone in the corner, most people probably figured he was fighting with a friend or going through a breakup or something and seemed to feel it wasn’t any of their business, and they didn’t bother him. 

He was basically alone by the time he accepted his fate of dying here in the stairwell, curling up sadly in a little ball and weeping softly to himself. Now that there were so few kids lingering, and therefore much less competition, anyone who did want to head up or down the stairs would likely take the elevators instead. And Mikey thought belatedly to himself that he should have grabbed someone and told them that his brain was melting when he still had the chance.

But now he was alone, and he supposed that was that. 

And he didn’t know what else to do. Picking up his head hurt, and opening his eyes hurt, and everything hurt, so he just… sat there. His earlier sobbing had died down to just weak little sniffles and hiccups, tears dripping sadly down his face as he tiredly, miserably, manually sucked in each and every inhale and exhale-- just trying to somehow breathe through the pain.

He wasn’t really sure how long he was there. Looking back, he figured it couldn’t have actually been that long. But it felt like eons. Mikey had just about accepted this as his final resting place when the relative quiet of his hiding spot was split by the horrendous screech of the door opening, and Mikey winced--

And then he heard, “Oh, sweet Salomea Skłodowska–Curie, there you are! Mikey, where have you been!?”

And the noise hurt, but he recognized that voice. He picked up his head just enough to stare at Donnie in shock… and then absolutely sobbed in relief at the sight of him.

Donnie blinked in surprise, floundering for a moment before letting the door slide shut behind him, kneeling quickly down by Mikey’s side and examining him with worry.

“Mikey? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“I-- I don’t know!” He hiccuped pitifully, his shoulders shaking as he sniffled. “It’s-- s-something is w-wrong, and, and I don’t know w-what but it hurts and I, I can’t see, and, and I don’t kn-know what’s happening, but everything hurts and I feel like I’m gonna die…!”

“You can’t see?” Donnie repeated, their voice pressing a bit with obvious concern. “You can’t see at all?”

“N-no, it’s, it’s just-- just a little over here,” Mikey sniffled, gesturing slightly to his left. “Like a. A spot, and. E-everything is just… f-fuzzy, and, and my, my head hurts…”

“Mikey, why didn’t you text one of us?”

“I can’t,” he sobbed. “It h-hurts too bad to look, Dee, it’s too bright!”

Donnie narrowed his eyes, frowning slightly.

“And you said your head hurts?”

Mikey nodded weakly, wiping at his eyes.

“Where? Show me.”

“Uhm…” Mikey wobbled for a minute, wincing before he finally kind of wiggled a hand to indicate. “J-just… over here, on this side, all the way u-up… It… It hurts so bad, I…! I d-don’t know what to do…!”

Donnie stayed quiet for a moment, seeming to consider this, before he sighed very softly, patting his brother’s knee decisively. 

“Right. Well. Congratulations, Hamato Michelangelo,” he hummed quietly, his voice all careful and whispered. “I diagnose you with a migraine.”

Mikey kept quiet for a second, processing this, before he sobbed.

“This is a migraine?!” He bit out, his voice absolutely trembling. 

“Yes, well, they are genetic--”

“I-is this what it’s like for you!? This-- this is h-horrible! You-- you have m-migraines every other week!” Mikey wept.

Donnie blinked in surprise, seemingly taken aback by his brother’s outburst before scoffing softly, waving off his concerns. “Experience is all relative,” he muttered. “The point is, you’re not dying, alright? You’ll be fine. It’ll just be… unpleasant for a little while,” he sighed, shrugging his bag off his shoulder and beginning to dig through it. “Did you take anything yet?”

“N-no…”

“Okay. Here,” he produced a small pill bottle from his backpack, cracking it open quickly and shaking out two little pills. “This is the good shit. We should be at approximately the same dose…” He paused to rapidly examine the label, humming softly to himself for just a second before he was seemingly satisfied, holding the drugs out to the other. “I don’t know if it’ll fix it, but it should at least help.”

Mikey sniffled, nodding a tiny bit and agreeably holding out a trembling palm to accept the medication. Donnie grabbed his water bottle from his bag, passing it over, and though Mikey took it, he hiccuped softly, hesitating for a second before he looked up at Donnie with wide eyes.

“Y-you don’t l-like it when, when people drink out of your water b-bottle…”

Donnie rolled his eyes. “As much as I appreciate the concern, Michael, I will disinfect it later. It’s fine. Just take the meds.”

Mikey hiccuped a bit, but he did as he was told anyway, tossing the pills into his mouth and swallowing them down with a generous swig of water. Despite this, this sickly sweet taste kind of burned the back of his mouth for a minute, and he wrinkled up his face at it. Ew… 

���Yeah, I know,” Donnie hummed. “Okay. Uh. Look. Let’s get you to the nurse’s office so you can lay down and wait for these to kick in, and then we can go home.”

Laying down did sound pretty good, Mikey had to admit, and he nodded a tiny bit, his bottom lip still wobbling.

Donnie sort of hesitated for a second, his brows furrowed with concern as he looked Mikey up and down. “Do you think you can walk? Or do you want me to… carry you…?”

Mikey paused for a moment, and then he snorted.

“Carry me?”

“Look, I’m trying to be nice…!”

Mikey kind of laughed weakly, somewhere between a giggle and a sob, wiping at his face.

“Dee, you can’t carry me…! You’re too small!”

Donnie bristled in offense. “Pardon me!? I’m taller than you!”

“Yeah, but you’re smaller than me,” Mikey insisted, just barely managing a teeny little smile, his eyes still closed as his head drooped against the wall. “You’re… little… you weigh, like, five pounds…” 

“Oh, you are so lucky you have a migraine, or we would be having a discussion right now,” Donnie hissed in reply, an absolute scowl painting his face. “I could…”

He hesitated.

“I could call Raph. He could carry you.”

Mikey’s trembling grin widened a teeny, tiny bit. See? He was right. Donnie couldn’t carry him. At least not for that far.

“No. It’s. Uhm. It’s okay. I can walk,” he said, taking a few long breaths, very slowly rising up to his feet. Everything kind of wobbled and swam for a moment, but it backed off after a second as he found his balance again. “Okay. Hang on. Here,” Donnie mumbled, “This will help…”

Mikey watched in shock as his brother pulled his headphones down off his head, reaching over to instead carefully place them over Mikey’s. 

The muffled quiet that fell over the world was, admittedly, absolutely lovely, but he still gaped at the other.

“But-- you need these--” he tried to protest.

“Mikey, I assure you I can make it from here to the nurse’s office without a meltdown. You need them more right now. I will be fine,” Donnie promised, reaching over to adjust the settings on the headphones slightly, tilting Mikey’s head to the side with his hand as he did so, careful fingers nudging at his chin to get him to turn. White noise washed over Mikey like seafoam, lapping at the edges of him, cold and soothing and soft. 

Mikey nearly started sobbing again. Because everything still hurt so bad, but even just this, even just taking away the noise, which there was very little of to begin with, made it so much better. He didn’t think he had ever been in so much pain in his life, and that was still true, but already it was just so much less than it had been five minutes ago.

“Alright. Is that okay?”

Mikey hiccuped softly, nodding a little bit.

“Alright. Let me know if you need a break or anything. And keep your eyes shut. The hall lights are gonna hurt, so just keep close and I’ll make sure you don’t walk into anything. Got it?” Donnie instructed shortly, reaching out to offer his hand to the other. 

Mikey did sob a tiny bit this time, scrubbing at his wet face with his sleeve one last time before he took his big brother’s hand. 

“Th-thanks, Dee.”

“Don’t mention it,” Donnie muttered. “I know how much this sucks. You ready?”

Mikey breathed deep, taking a long inhale, and then letting out an exhale, passing his trust entirely over to his sibling as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Yeah. Ready.”

---

[ Donnie: Have any of you heard from Mikey?

Leo: not since likkeee lunch. he sent me. like. eight tiktoks.

Raph: hes not with you???

Leo: dont you guys have dance r/n?

Donnie: No, I waited at the usual place so we could head over, but he didn’t show up.

Raph: what????

Leo: chill, he prbly got distracted w one of his friends or smth and wasnt looking at the time. U know how he is.

April: ^^^

April: ill try calling too. I havent left yet so i dont mind lookin around rq to see if i can find him anywhere

Donnie: Thank you. I’ll do the same. Please text if you see him.

Raph: if you dont find him ill come back

Leo: i can duck out of rehearsals if you guys need. but hes probably around.

Donnie: He’s definitely still in the school, as per geotracking.

Leo: stop geotracking us

(read)

Donnie: I found him. He’s fine.

Leo: seeee? hes finneeee

April: where was he?

Donnie: The stairwell.

Donnie: And he has a migraine so no one bother him for the rest of the evening, understood? Don’t call him. Don’t text him. Don’t come poking around his room to see if he’s okay. Just leave him alone.

Donnie: Raph.

Donnie: I’m gonna try and see if I can get him to sleep once we get home so he can at least be unconscious for some of this. And if I am successful in this and then any of you dum-dums wake him up, I swear there will be severe consequences.

Donnie: Light and noise should be kept to an absolute minimum until he’s over this. Got it?

April: oof!!! that sucks :( poor mikey. got it!

Raph: 👍

Leo: lol yah ok ✨boss ✨

Leo: thank god raph is older than u coz ud be a fucking nightmare lmao

Donnie: Die. ]

---

[ Mikey: omg i missed my phone 🥺

Mikey: migraines SUCK

Mikey: also PSA if anyone ever makes a noise above a gd whisper when D has a migraine ever again i will do unspeakable things because i have seen the error of my ways i s2gggggg

Donnie: THANK YOU.

Leo: eugh boi ]

[azamitetsuya]

Hey all! So here's a small introduction before I get into the post. My name is Azami Tetsuya! I'm a author on Wattpad and this is my first official chapter posted on here. So now for the warnings.

~WARNING~

SMUT, STALKING, YANDERE BEHAVIOR, GASLIGHTING, DRINKING, SMOKING, R@PE/MENTIONS OF R@PE, Manipulation, FORCED RELATIONSHIP, BLACK MAIL, TOXIC MASCULINITY, TOXIC RELATIONSHIPS, DRUGS/DRUGGING, NONCON/DUBCON, CURSING (It's Tokyo Revengers 💁), CHARACTERS ARE AGED UP!!!, Cannibalism (Yes the real deal and....... That *shivers*), GORE, MURDER, VARIOUS KINKS/FETISHES (I'm kinky and so are they 😉), OOC BEHAVIOR CAUSE WHY TF NOT?, POSSIBLE KNOWLEDGE OF BEING AN ANIME ALREADY (Don't come for me I forgot the term and can't look it up cause Google is stupid), KISAKI TITTY ❤️, READER IS A DENSE SIMP!!!, FINNA BE CRINGY CAUSE I AM IN FACT CRINGE!!

So without further ado~ I present! The first chapter of Stay! Y! Tokyo Revengers various x fem short reader!!

(This banner is by the lovely cafekitsune so please check them out thank you~ ❤️)

CHAPTER 1-

Y/N L/N was a normal girl, living a normal life. She had a job, friends and plenty of responsibilities like any other person. She was currently sitting in front of her computer with a black butler throw blanket on her shoulders, naruto themed booty shorts and a fairytale sports bra that didn't cover as much as needed. She was watching her new favorite anime, Tokyo Revengers!

"Gah!! How can Mikey go from cute to smexy in the blink of an eye?!" She said when said male's face came on her screen. He was one of her favorite and most relatable characters. As the episode ended, Y/N looked at the time on her laptop, only to see it was nearly 4 in the morning and she had work later on.

"Crap...... Well there goes my health...." She mumbled as she closed her laptop. She made her way to the mini fridge in her room and took a monster from it. She turned while opening the can only to find her laptop open. "What the-" A sudden blinding light came from the device, interrupting her sentence. "GAH!! MY EYES!" She yelled dropping the monster on the ground. The light grew brighter and brighter until...... It just stopped.

Once it was completely gone, Y/N opened her eyes, only to see she wasn't in her room but in a parking lot. 'When the hell did I get here?' She thought, surveying her surroundings. She looked down to the ground and saw her monster spilled. “AYO MY MONSTER!!!!” She screamed, not noticing the blonde male looking at her confused.

"Um..... Miss?" A familiar voice said out of nowhere. Y/N flinched as her eyes widened hearing the voice.

'That voice........ It couldn't be...... could it?' Y/N thought as she slowly turned around, coming face to face with the protagonist of her all time favorite anime...... Takemichi Hanagaki. Y/N was at a loss for words, while Takemichi was a blushing idiot. The piss blonde male took in Y/N's appearance.

(H/L) (H/C) hair that was (Hair style for relaxing). Her eyes were a beautiful shade of (E/C), almost looking like the night sky with how her eyes shine. He lowered his gaze and found she wasn't wearing much. The shorts she was wearing looked more like underwear and the bra left little to the imagination. The poor boy blushed profusely and looked away as his blush reached all the way to his ears.

'Woah! What the hell?! Why do I feel my pants getting tighter?! I don't even know this girl's name! Plus I've seen Hina in her underwear and was able to control myself!' Takemichi thought as he stood there awkwardly. He glanced at the beautiful girl and saw she was still staring at him. 'Shit! She's still looking at me! What do I do?! What do I do?!' Takemichi thought, panicking. He couldn't understand why he was acting like this.

The way she looked at him made him feel something....... like he wanted her all to himself. As for Y/N, she stood in front of the man in awe. 'Holy fuckin shit! TAKEMICHI HANAGAKI?!?!?! I can't believe this! He looks animated too, which means he's not 3D! WHICH MEANS I'M REALLY IN TOKYO REVENGERS!?!?!?!?!!?!?!?!!' Y/N thought while internally freaking out. 'Wait....... I wonder when in the anime I am........'

"U-Um...... Miss? You do realize what you're wearing right?" Takemichi said, causing Y/N to snap out of her trance-like state. She looked down, only to see she was still in her skimpy PJ's. Y/N's eyes widened and tried to cover up when she felt something wrap around her smaller figure. She looked up and saw that Takemichi put his uniform jacket over her shoulders.

'She's so small and cute........ I have to help her.' Takemichi thought as a small amount of blush crept on his face. He loved how she looked in his cloths. Like she was made to wear his stuff.

"U-Um.... Can you tell me where I am... Um?" 'I have to Play dumb for right now until I figure out if this is him from the future.' She thought, nervously. Takemichi was all too excited to give her his name.

"T-Takemichi. Hanagaki Takemichi. And your in Shibuya Japan. What about your name?" He asked, scratching the side of his cheek. 'This feels weird. I'm already going crazy over some girl while I have a pretty girlfriend....'

"Y/N. L/N Y/N. N/N is just fine though." She said as a soft smile spread on her lips. Hina was really lucky in her eyes, having a guy like Takemichi.

'Woah~ Nicknames with a hot chick? Awesome!' Takemichi thought as a small blush spread on his cheeks. Though he was confused as to why no memory of meeting this girl came to mind, Takemichi had an overwhelming need to protect her.

"It's nice to meet you Hanagaki-"

"Takemichi....... Please." He said cutting off her greeting. Y/N nodded with a smile that made Takemichi's heart skip a beat. "S-So um do you live around here?" He asked, awkwardly trying not to look at her out of fear he'll stutter more. Y/N hesitated trying to come up with a plan.

"U-Um....... I-I um...." She stuttered, making the blond in front of her blink in confusion. Finally thinking of something, she thought to kill two birds with one stone. "Hm! I live near Hanma-kun's house. Do....... you know him?" 'If he doesn't then it's before the fight on August third so I'll at least have a time frame to work with.' She watched as the taller male racked his brain.

"No...... I-Is he a...... friend?" He asked, worried he'll lose her already. 'What am I thinking? Why am I getting protective of her already?'

"No. I've seen him here and there. Haven't talked to him much." She lied. Takemichi nodded, hiding his relieved face and sigh he let out. "Well....... I have to go now....." Y/N said and tried to leave but a strong grip wrapped around her wrist.

"Wait!!........" Takemichi yelled, which made the (H/C)ette's eyes widen. "I-I mean um..... How about I walk you home?" He asked, trying to save their conversation. He wanted to know where she lived, but he also didn't want her to leave. ‘Her hand is so soft~’ He cooed in his head. Y/N let out a sigh and looked down in slight disappointment.

"I don't live here....... I'm not exactly..... from here...." She said, making the blue eyed male confused. "Sorry.... But I have to confirm one more thing before I can tell you." Takemichi was needless to say nervous about what she was about to say. Shuffling in his stance the poor man stood awkwardly, waiting for the young beauty to finish her statement. "Do you..... know about time travel?"

Takemichi went stiff. How did she know about that? Was she a time traveler too? Questions rang through Takemichi's head as he tried coming up with a suitable answer.

"I know everything..." She said, making the blond male flinch. Y/N looked in his eyes with soft sincere (E/C) ones as if knowing the pain he's been through, which in a way she had. "I know about Mikey. I know about Naoto, Hina...... I even know about Kisaki and your special ability." She continued while walking up to him. Takemichi stood there shocked and dumbfounded, his thoughts running wild with questions.

"You see," She continued, stopping right in front of him. "I'm..... not from here. I'm from a world where your life is a manga and anime series....." Y/N finished explaining everything as the poor man stood there quietly, trying to process everything he's been told. There was no reason not to believe her. She knew everything….. From his power to the way he “died” in the future. This was all insane to him. Letting out a sigh she finally finished her explanation. "So yeah....... But hey! You saved your girl..... and got ptsd...." She muttered the last part while grinning nervously.

Takemichi was in pure and utter shock. He knew there was something up with her but he wasn't expecting this..... "So..... You don't live next to that Hanma guy?" He asked, making the young girl shake her head. He nodded slowly as a response, still trying to process everything.

"Takemichi...." Y/N spoke up again. Takemichi looked up and saw she was even closer, a determined grin plastered across her face. "If you let me stay with you, I'll help save Hina." Takemichi blushed slightly as he thought for a minute.

'S-She wants to stay with me?......AWE HELL YEAH!!!' He thought before nodding with a determined look. "Alright. It's a deal then." Takemichi took her by the hand and started walking to his apartment. Tho she was a bit scared to see his apartment, Y/N needed a place to stay. It wasn't an option, unless she wanted to live under a bridge like the gremlin she is.

“S-So…..” Takemichi started, “I…. Saved Hina?” He asked. If he was being honest with himself…… he didn't really care anymore… Can't exactly say that out loud but…. ‘Wait…. What if Hina tries to take her away from me? No… no that won't happen…. Right?’ He thought but snapped out of it when a sudden loud clap rang through his ears.

“Are you even listening to me Michi?” Y/N said with a worried look. Takemichi flinched but nodded, not really listening. Y/N deadpanned. ‘He wasn't listening at all…..’ With a sigh, she decided to start over. “Yeah. You saved Hina…… you actually saved her twice….. Technically three times but…. She wasn't the only one that needed to be saved.” She confessed to him, making him look at her.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asked, concerned and confused. Y/N just shook her head, letting him know she'll tell him later and he nodded.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Takemichi closed the door to his apartment and took his shoes off following the (H/C)ette to the living room. “Wow Michi. I'm surprised it's so clean.” She said, bluntly. Takemichi sweatdropped.

“Was it not in the anime?” Y/N shook her head at his question. This made Takemichi cringe slightly. The thought of having a dirty apartment made his skin crawl. “A-Anyway… this is a one bedroom apartment so…. I can take the couch if ya want-”

“No way! This is your home! I'm the freeloader staying here. I'll take the couch.” She said as she continued to snoop. Takemichi sighed but smiled.

“We can always….. share?” He said, leaning against the wall next to her. Y/N side-eyed the blonde next to her.

“Right…… and what would Hinata think?” She said making Takemichi flinch slightly.

“R-Right….” He said with a sweatdrop. “Still. I wouldn't feel right leaving you on the couch or the floor. That's not my style.” Y/N smiled at this and nodded.

“Hai. We can share then.” She said causing the blonde to perk up. A grin spread across his face as his eyes shined.

“I promise I won't be weird! You won't regret it!” He said, knowing full well it was a lie. Something about this girl in his kitchen, that just dropped in his life out of nowhere, it made him feel things. Way different from how he felt about Hinata Tachibana. Maybe it was the fact they shared a similar ability. Or he could finally talk to someone about his but whatever it was, this girl had him wrapped around her pretty little finger. He watched Y/N move gracefully through the kitchen as if she was made for his home and his home alone.

‘Shes so pretty in the kitchen. I wonder…..’ A sudden image of Y/N pregnant made it's way to his mind. He shook his head, getting rid of the nasty thoughts he was having. ‘What the hell is wrong with me?! I just met her!’

“Ne ne. Can you pass me the Milk?” Y/N said getting his attention. Takemichi nodded and grabbed the milk from the fridge.

“W-What are you making?” He asked peering over her shoulder.

“Alfredo pasta with homemade sauce. I'm sure your used to more Japanese cuisine so I thought to give you something else.” She said shocking the blue eyed male.

“Sugoi. You know how to cook that?” Y/N nodded while she stirred.

“I know how to cook all kinds of stuff. I had a restaurant/bakery back in my world so……” She trailed off while puckering her lips.

After dinner, Y/N got changed in one of Takemichi’s shirts and a pair of his boxers for underwear. It was comforting knowing (thinking) he won't do anything. She and Takemichi laid in bed and just stared at the ceiling.

“So….. I save everyone…..” Takemichi said still trying to process everything. Y/N hummed in confirmation. “And….. who's everyone?” This made the girl sit up in shock.

“E-Eh?! What do you mean?! Have you not met Mikey and Draken yet!?”

“Mikey and who? It's Mikey and Tetta Kisaki I need to meet…” This changed everything for Y/N. She was starting off in the second episode. She sighed and laid back down, a headache forming in her temple.

“Ugh…. Nevermind. I'll tell you in the morning….” She said and with that, the two went to bed. Takemichi holding her tight in his arms and snuggling into her neck.

Hey!! Hope you liked this first chapter! This is your lovely author Azami Tetsuya signing off!! *Bows* Bai Bai!!!~

[milkyboiiiii]

Draken is the type to pick you up and carry you when your feet get tired, he'll give piggyback rides or carry you bridal style. He doesn't mind carrying you around, he had to do it all the time for Mikey so it's a little weird for him when he's not carrying you.

Draken loves carrying you around, so he doesn't mind when you ask him to do it when your feet get tired.

Getting a piggyback ride from him is always so fun! You totally get why Mikey always does it now. When you get a piggyback ride please repay him by giving him kisses on the side of his head or neck, you can't see it but his cheeks are a light shade of pink Ɛ>

Being carried bridal style by him is also really nice because you always feel like a little princess in his arms. Looking up at him with stars in your eyes and a wide smile on your face, you love this man so much he's perfect in every way Ɛ>

But if Mikey sees you being carried by his Ken-chin he will throw a huge fit! Demanding that he'd be carried instead...

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Three

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: The promise of taking your return “one step at a time” seems appealing until you realize that it comes with being vulnerable. And being vulnerable makes you run. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues.

Word Count: 4.1k 

A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! Im so sorry this took so so so long for me to update, unfortunately life had other plans for me lol ironic how i'm writing about anxiety attacks while i myself was dealing with having one basically everyday . Don’t worry about me though , worry more about the heavy angst your gonna read lolllll anyways this one was fr a doozy to write and edit so take breaks when you need it but i promise things will get better in the next chappy ! ! Also, i made it extra long to compensate for my late post lolllll I still hope you all enjoy ! <3

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 (your both sweeties ! ! ty for being on my taglist, extra love 4 u n for everyone who gets on the taglist <3)

Chapter One / Chapter Two / Masterlist

The sky outside your window was a deep shade of blue with black bleeding into its edges. Not a peep of the morning sun had made it into the sky, keeping it a lighter shade of the usual night sky. 

Your hands gripped the edges of the sink as you looked into the mirror, the cold ceramic making goosebumps appear on your skin making you shiver in your pajamas. Your eyes traced your mirrored face, moving from the creases on your skin to the deep, dark bags underneath your eyes. 

You got no sleep last night as you were on the cusp of making a decision you weren’t exactly sure was a good one, but was a decision you wanted to make regardless: you were returning to The Beef and taking it one day at a time, just like how Richie said. 

You didn't even know why you were returning anymore, you just sort of felt a calling when you stepped foot in the kitchen you vowed to never return to.

Your shoulder twitched as you thought about the kitchen of The Beef. You could feel the ghost of Carmy's hand searing into the spot on your shoulder where he rested his hand for a brief second as he passed behind you.

With a shaky breath, you looked down and turned the sink on to splash some lukewarm water on your face. It was time to get ready. 

After quietly moving about mindlessly in your room, you were ready. From one of the many boxes shoved in the back of your closet labeled "The Beef", you pulled out ivory wide leg linen pants, covered in colorful pigments, a cropped sleeveless black top, and an oversized sweatshirt that had a graphic of The Beef on the back. You sighed, looking at your old 'chef' clothes. 

Suddenly, you were pulled into a memory. 

You walked into The Beef, grinning widely as you made eye contact with Richie who was behind the counter. There, he was preoccupied with counting cash from the register but instantly perked up upon seeing you walk through the front door.

You were wearing your ivory linen pants and cropped top as well as the oversized sweatshirt. It was a staple outfit you often wore when helping out at The Beef. 

Richie clapped his hands as you held up and lightly shook the white paper bag in your hand. 

"Hallelujah, my prayers have finally been answered!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into a prayer formation. 

You snickered and placed the bag on the counter before gently opening it up. Richie then shoved his hand in the bag, making you laugh and scold him. 

As you two playfully bickered, a hulking frame walked over from the kitchen and over to the entryway that led to the front of the restaurant.

"What'd ya get me, baby?" 

You turned to the doorway of the kitchen where Mikey leaned against the frame, his toned body taking up the entire space. One hand rested on his hip while the other stretched up, gripping the top of the door frame. 

Noticing that you were busy ogling at your boyfriend, Richie took the opportunity to quickly grab his dessert from the bag and start eating it feverishly. 

You beamed at him, cheeks rosy, "I got us all our favorite cream puffs from the bakery down the street. The last ones too!!" 

Richie took another bite of his cream puff and groaned, mouth covered in sugar and muffled as we went on and on about how this was exactly what he needed after a long day. Meanwhile, Mikey let go of the frame and slowly made his way to you, eyes locked with yours. 

As he approached you, his gaze never left your own, making you flush. Fuck, his eyes were always so intense. 

You held up his own cream puff, making him lick his lips as he stopped in front of you. 

The world seemingly disappeared around you as he murmured quietly, only loud enough for you to hear, "Feed it to me, baby?" 

The front door slammed behind you, making you jump and grimace. 

"Shit…" you whispered to yourself, not meaning to make so much noise as to avoid waking up your parents.  

After locking it much more quietly, you grabbed your tote bag full of supplies and rushed down the steps to your car. The sky was still dark, but was lighter than before making you anxious about getting to The Beef on time. 

The streets were dead and silent as you passed the green lights. Occasionally, another car would pass by, making your heart race as you feared you would accidentally have your plans exposed early. After all, nobody knew you ended up making this decision to fully return. 

After parking a little down the street to keep your car hidden, you sat in your car, mind replaying the memory of Mikey. You can see the pink flush on his tan skin, making him look so... alive. You can see the way his chest rises as he breathes in, pink lips parting as he breathes out. His hair was well kept despite a long day at The Beef. Before you, he looked well. 

He looked alive. 

But he was dead. 

Your grip on the steering wheel weakened as your arms felt numb. Your hands had even begun to get sweaty, slipping down the steering wheel. 

Your Mikey was dead. 

It has been over half a year now that Mikey died. 

As you continued to sit there, the windows started getting foggy and the interior got stuffier and stuffier, making you feel like you were suffocating.

It's been over half a year since Mikey had died. 

Your right hand had begun to slide its way from where they fell onto your lap and to your tote bag, shaking. Your breathing got faster and faster, your heart racing right until… 

Your fingertips hit cold metal.

Your heaving chest froze, your shaking hands froze, it even felt like your rapid heartbeat froze. 

Slowly, your fingers curled around the keys and pulled them out. They jangled as you pulled them up to view. 

The keychains, all unique and worn down from years of being stuffed into pockets, bags, etc, glistened under the streetlamp. The small square keychain that contained a photo of you and Mikey, squished together but grinning during a trip to Coney Island years ago, seemed to glare at you as it turned in the air to face you.

You threw the car door open and shoved yourself out and onto the street, stumbling as you tried not to fall onto the cold asphalt. Hot tears streamed down cheeks, feeling out of place and unexpected despite your emotions in that moment. You hiccupped to yourself, trying your best to bite down on the sleeves of the sweatshirt to muffle your crying. 

“I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine,” you repeat to yourself, trying desperately to stop the tears from continuing.

You dragged your bag from out of the car, yanking it, body flailing forward as the heaviness of what was inside set in. You hurriedly locked your car and crossed the street, steps heavy as you rushed towards the back door of The Beef.

With a pause, you quickly wiped your face with your limp hands and took a shaky breath. The metal back door was slightly rusted around the metal edges, making it look old in a way that made you shiver as you thought of the night you came here and saw it for the first time in months. With your eyes squeezed shut, you twisted the knob of the door, hoping to find it locked.

Lucky for you, it still was.

You let go of the breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and brought your keys up to unlock it. By now, the sky had barely started to get specks of yellow and orange; you knew that any moment now Carmy would probably arrive. After all, you reminded yourself, he would be the kind to aim to arrive before anyone else and start prepping for that day’s meal service.

You quickly shoved the keys into the lock and it clicked open. After accidentally dropping the keys as if it was hot metal, you got back up and swung the door open, pushing forward over the threshold to turn on the lights. 

You blinked as the lights slowly illuminated the steel appliances of the kitchen and the white walls. It was completely silent, aside from the subtle buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you. It was oddly calming too, standing there in a place of chaos where there wasn’t any. It made the knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach slowly unwind. You were terrified that being in here, alone, would cause you to scream, cry, throw things, or just do something, but you were relieved to feel that you just… you felt… fine. 

Your feet shuffled across the kitchen and to the lockers. Instinctually, you went and stood in front of the locker you used to use and reached up to open it before pausing. 

With a quick step back, you hummed to yourself. You haven’t been there in so long and because Carmy has since taken over, there is a good chance that the locker you left abandoned was repurposed for someone else, but something inside you pushed you to unlock it anyway.

The locker clicked and creaked as you opened it, your eyes widening to find it empty. You eyed each corner before looking down to see a clean and neatly folded apron resting there. The sharpie writing underneath the logo of The Beef was smudged after years of washes and rewrites, but you could still make out your name in Mikey’s writing. 

You reached forward, the canvas fabric of the apron feeling soft under your fingertips as you gently traced the curves and corners of your name. 

Your throat tightened, making you pull your hand back fast, as if burned by the touch of the fabric. 

Exhausted at your own reactions, you rolled your eyes, “Fuck, this is so stupid.” 

You grabbed the apron and shoved your tote bag inside. After changing your shoes to some non-slip ones more appropriate for working in the kitchen, you threw the apron on.

The clean scent of fresh laundry invaded your nostrils, making you sniff as you realized that this was very recently laundered. Your eyes closed and your shoulders sagged, it must have been Sugar that found this somewhere in the mess of the office and cleaned it for you.

You wiped down the front counters and restocked the cups, knowing exactly where it was that all these things were kept in the kitchen. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you noticed the paper sign you laminated and stuck to the wall where the cups, utensils, and plates were kept was still there after years. The paper itself was wrinkled and the writing was blown out, having suffered a water related accident courtesy of Richie before you decided to laminate it and stick it back on. Your writing said ‘Please place all disposables here! Thank you (:’ and underneath it was Richie’s messy, blown out writing saying ‘Don’t tell me what to do!’.

By the time you had finished doing the small tasks you used to do in the front, the backdoor swung open with a loud, "Hello?"

You stood up and whipped your head to the doorway of the kitchen. Carmy's voice echoed out again. 

"Richie? Are you here?" 

You quickly ran around the counter and to the doorway, pausing awkwardly once in view of Carmy, "Uh, hey. It's actually me."

Carmy's eyes widened briefly, surprised to see you, "Oh… hi." 

You shifted your weight from one foot to another. 

His blue eyes looked at you up and down, "You uh, found the… the apron, huh?"

You looked down at your apron and nodded to yourself, "Yea yea I found it in my… in a locker." 

Carmy nodded and moved forward, moving to set his things to his own locker and prepare himself to work, "Richie was the one who, uhm, told me where your locker was and I found your apron in the office so… I cleaned it up for you."

His voice got smaller and smaller at the very end of his sentence, making your chest tighten at the mention of where your apron was found. 

You fiddled with your fingers, "Oh you did?"

Carmy hummed in affirmation, gesturing you to follow him as he moved around the kitchen. He led you to the fridge, showing you to some of the empty labeled bins. 

"Help me with restocking these?" 

Everyone else came in that morning, surprised to see you but trying their best to cover up their curious stares and questioning glances to one another. But you, once again, found yourself standing in the kitchen with a knife and cutting board, chopping the vegetables needed for the day. It wasn’t a menial task, prep was extremely important, but the lack of movement made you feel a bit useless. 

After all, you once helped run this damn place.

But you continued, not saying a word to keep the flow going. The key word was that you ‘once’ helped run the place and you didn’t anymore. 

When Richie came in, he yelled out upon seeing you, "Cousin!!"

You put your knife down turned around just in time for him to hobble towards you and wrap his arms around you. 

"Cousin, what are you doing here?" He said, excited. 

You chuckled softly, "I'm here to help but I'm taking it one step at a time." 

He smiled at your words, reminded of your conversation from yesterday. Then, he stepped back, put his hands on your forearms to get a good look at you, and, in a low voice, said, "Are you okay here?"

Your shoulders sagged as you sighed, "Yea yea, I'm fine… but are you?" 

Richie chuckled and nodded his head, “Ah some stupid little stab isn’t gonna kill me. You would need a boa constructor or something like that to do the job… or whatever the hell Eva mentioned she saw on her field trip to the zoo…”

He muttered the last part under his breath, making you smile and giggle to yourself, forgetting all your worries for a split second, before Sugar’s voice brought you back.

“Oh my gosh you’re here?!” 

At the tone of her voice, you jerked back and away from Richie’s grip. Your smile dropped before you quickly plastered it on again, nodding in her direction. But this action wasn’t kept unnoticed, like how you hoped; Richie’s own smile slowly fell into a frown, eyebrows creasing as he looked across your face, trying to read what was going on and why you stopped smiling when you saw Sugar. 

Sugar raced over, smiling but eyes looking concerned, as she wrapped her cardigan around her body, “Hi sweetie! How are you? It’s been a while and I was going to reach out to you.” 

Her normally comforting and kind demeanor made your eyes narrow. The way she spoke to you… it felt… not good. 

But you shook this feeling away, unsure why exactly you were feeling this way over Natalie, one of your previously closest friends. She cared about you, always checked in with you, and for pete’s sake she was your dead boyfriend’s sister! You were as thick as thieves at one point in life. 

“At one point in life…” you mumbled to yourself.

“What’s that?” Natalie asked, reaching out to gently place a hand on your forearm in concern. 

You jumped slightly, having been lost in thought for a second, “I’m fine, sorry, just lost in thought.”

You looked around the kitchen and felt yourself shrink as you realized that everyone there was stealing glances in your direction, eyes quickly turning away when you glanced at them.

“Can i just…” you began, feeling yourself grow more and more agitated.

Natalie nodded, trying to encourage you to say whatever it was that you wanted to say. Richie continued to scan you, head tilting to one side as he tried to piece together what was going on.

All of a sudden, the clanking of pans and the warmth of the flames being turned on started to get louder and hotter. It was like they were right up against your ear, despite being over 5 feet away. Your breath began to irregulate, some deep and heavy and others shallow and fast.

Noticing this, Natalie’s eyes widened, “Oh no, hey uhm, how about we go outside real quick?”

Richie quickly grabbed your shoulders and gently steered you forward and through the kitchen, to the backdoor. 

Carmy, who was in the front at the time of you three talking, came out when he saw you all rushing to the backdoor, “What’s going on?”

“She’s having a panic attack, we are going to get some air!” Natalie said, loud enough for it to echo across the kitchen and over to where Carmy was standing, in order for him to hear over the noise of the prepping.

This seemed to get you out of your stupor. 

You didn’t realize that you were frozen and being led out of the kitchen until in that moment when Natalie seemingly announced to everyone there that you were having a panic attack. In the restaurant that you used to help run. Like it was nothing.

You could feel eyes hitting your back. Although you couldn’t hear it, you just knew that there were whispers either happening or going to happen the second you walked out the door. 

And that made you lose it. 

Whispers that ‘oh, that’s his girlfriend’ and ‘she doesn’t seem to be taking his death well despite trying to move on with someone else’ and even ‘i heard she ran away from his funeral’. Whispers labeling you as so many awful things that you knew you weren’t, but they would never understand why you did it; why you left. No one would understand. No one right now understands.

That made you lose it.

You jerked your shoulders to shake off Richie and Sugar’s hands before pushing forward. You shoved the door, making it swing all the way open with a bang and stomped out. 

Natalie and Richie raced after you, alarmed at your sudden aggression. 

You crossed your arms, a grimace on your face, as you turned to look at them as they stood in front of you.

“What’s going on??” Natalie asked, voice quivering with worry. Her arms winded around her body, hands clammy.

“Cousin, what was that?” 

It made you sick the way Richie’s hardened eyes pleaded for you to tell him what was wrong. But it was Sugar’s careful tone that just made it worse. 

You grit your teeth, rolling your eyes which took Natalie aback.

“Are you… upset?” she said.

You scoffed and threw your arms down to your side, “Are you serious? Actually serious, Natalie?”

Natalie jerked back, making Richie shake his head and speak up, in a calm but agitated tone, “Cousin, what are you going on about-”

But before he could finish, you interrupted him and yelled, “Oh my gosh just… stop!!!”

Your voice echoed in the quiet morning street. The sky was light blue and the sun was still orange as it slowly made its way up the sky. The birds chirped in a harmonious tune that practically said ‘today is a lovely day!’ to those who made their way around town that morning for whatever they had on their to do list. 

But here you were, outside of The Beef again, and this time angry.

“I’m fine!! I don’t know how many times I have to tell you and remind you but I. Am. Fine!” 

The two reeled back for a second, hurt written all over their faces as you yelled at them. 

Richie then straightened up and crossed his arms, his own voice getting louder by the minute “What the hell is wrong with you? Natalie is just trying to help.”

“Oh yea, ‘help’! By treating me like a fragile piece of glass that will break at any second, you're ‘helping me’, right?” with your hands, you quoted each word for help, voice getting louder and louder to combat Richie’s own booming voice.  

“Sweetie, I didn't mean to treat you like that…” Natalie whispered, tears forming in her eyes. 

You groan and turn away, “You talk to me like I'm a child and I'm sick of it!”

“What’s going on?” Carmy said, interrupting you as he walked out the backdoor to join you three, “I can hear you yelling from inside.”

But you ignored him and continued, “Why are you avoiding talking about what happened as if saying the word or his name is going to make me explode? Why?!”

Carmy blinked, “What do you mean why?”

“Stop pretending like everything is fine and normal and that you have to watch me around knives and give me baby tasks to keep me busy as if being around The Beef is going to kill me!” you growled, tears of frustration starting to run down your cheeks. 

Stupid tears. Such traitors. 

Carmy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Nobody is treating you like a child and I'm not giving you ‘baby tasks’, you know this.”

“Really Carmy? You're one to talk, seeing as you don’t even want to acknowledge or talk to me!” 

Carmy cleared his throat, voice low in an effort to control his own growing anger, “I’m not the one who is avoiding you or anything, okay? None of us are.”

Sugar covered her mouth and turned away from you, trying not to let the tears stream down her cheeks. Carmy turned, just in time to see her watery eyes. His jaw clenched as you seethed in front of him. 

“Listen, we all know you're grieving, okay? It fucking sucks that your boyfriend is dead but guess fucking what, my brother is dead and so is Sugar’s brother. Richie’s best friend is dead and everyone in here’s boss and friend is dead too. Your not the only one who is dealing with this so stop fucking acting like everyone here is out to get you for dealing with Mikey’s death!” Carmy blurted out, neck veins bulging as he leaned forward with every sentence. 

Sugar gasped and whipped around, “Carmy!”

“What? It’s fucking true! Everything has gone to shit, yea, but that doesn’t mean you're dealing with it alone! Mikey left a shit ton of people like you, me, and everyone else to pick up the pieces of his fuck ups, so stop acting like a baby and get to work, break is over.”

With that, Carmy turns around and goes back into The Beef, leaving you staring angrily at the ground with tears running down your cheeks and your fists clenched at your side. Richie softened at seeing you cry, but did nothing to prevent Carmy from going on his rant. 

Natalie sniffled quietly, wiping away at her tears as a few rolled down and hit the pavement underneath her. She then turned to you and smiled a watery smile, giving you one last glance of reassurance before turning to go back inside. 

As the door closed behind her, you broke into a sob, your once stiff body crumbling to the floor with a crouch. Your body shook, throwing all the adrenaline you had into each sob that wracked your body. 

With blurry vision, you didn’t see the way Richie sighed before he moved forward, arms wrapping around you with a clenched jaw. His own eyes were beginning to rim with tears as he held you, listening to your cries in agony get muffled into your hands and his chest.

Once your sobs turned into small cries and staggering breaths, Richie helped you get up and lean against the wall. He gently wiped your tears, fingers running the same path that he used to do when he found you upset after a particularly difficult argument with Mikey. 

Then, he left you there. 

He kissed your temple and turned to go back inside, leaving you alone outside with the chirping birds and the warm sun to contemplate what happened. 

“I really fucked up…” you whispered to yourself, sniffling.

And like the way you left from Mikey’s funeral and your exes out west when things got hard, you ran. You took your things silently and without saying a word to anyone about what you were doing and where you were going, you ran. 

[under-sedationnn]

mike schmidt x pregnant fem!reader pt.2

summary: a continuation of a day in the life with mike schmidt in which the reader navigates the joys, and hardships, of pregnancy.

"so, what are we thinking, a classic baby blue or something more adventurous? like" a pause, squinting at the screen, "green."

With Abby gone for the day, Mike and I plopped ourselves in the living room for a debrief of the day ahead. I opted for the floor, Mike helping me lower myself to the carpet in front of the TV. I groan as my butt hits the floor less than gracefully, and lay flat on my back as we chat.

"What sounds best to you, y/n?" he starts, stifling a yawn. I feel myself frown slightly in response, feeling guilty about how tired he must be feeling. He catches on.

"Hey hey, baby, I'm okay," another yawn, "I just need another cup of coffee, I think."

"No, Mike, you need to sleep," I say, and turn to lay on my side with my head propped up on my hand. He leans back on the couch and huffs, pulling his hands down his face as he lets out a sigh.

I pick at the carpet with my fingers, and wait for him to respond.

"I know, I know I need to sleep but- damnit, I'm trying to make this work, y/n." Face still hidden, he sits in silence again until I move to sit up. With great difficulty, might I add.

"And you're doing a great job, Mikey, but I really think you could use the rest. We could use the rest, right now." He moves his hands from his face and pulls me in for a hug by my neck. I trace my nails up and down his back through his shirt, and he lets out a small sigh.

He nods his head against my shoulder, and in silence, we move to the bedroom. The bed is still unmade, and we slip back under the covers as if we have never left. Turning to face away from him, Mike buries his front into my back and we melt into one another, the warmth of his chest replacing the chill of vacant sheets.

He places his hand on my stomach, and I feel at home in his embrace. "Mike," I start, "you're gonna be a great dad."

He kisses the back of my neck. "Thank you, baby. You're gonna be a great mom, I know it."

With that, the sound of the TV in the living room drowns out to a lulling hum and the morning light of the window slowly but surely fades to black.

"We're in this together, y/n."

````````````````````````````````````````````

When I wake up from my nap, I haven't moved from my original position, but Mike is gone. The absence of his warmth sends a chill through my body, and I sit up to find the nearest throw blanket.

Walking into the living room, I catch sight of Mike scrolling on my laptop at the table. His forehead is wrinkled in concentration, and when he looks up to find me standing in the doorway, he cracks a smile.

"Good morning," he says, "again."

I chuckle, and he turns his attention back to the screen, scrolling once again.

"Whatcha looking at?" I ask, moving to pour myself a glass of water. I open the dishwasher to find that it hadn't been run the night before, and curse myself silently. I give up for now, and walk back over to the couch. "Mike, please do remind me to run the dishes tonight. But seriously, what's got you all focused in? Looking for a new job listing?"

"I definitely should be, but the night shift pays the bills. Just look at this." He swivels the laptop toward me, and when I see different swatches of paint pulled up, I can't help but smile.

"Good thinking, Mike. Ooooh, I like this purple! It's like a periwinkle."

He leans in to look with me. "Yeah, they have a good selection for not too much money. I'm sure Abby might want a new coat of paint once we get started on a nursery, so we need to prep for that."

"Right," I draw out, "she's probably sick of the shade she's got. Needs something more big girl, you know?"

He only rolls his eyes, grinning slightly. "So, what are we thinking, a classic baby blue or something more adventurous? like" a pause, squinting at the screen, "green."

"Hmmm, green is quite daunting, huh?" I scroll for a few moments, and find a springy peach color. "This would look great with all the sunlight coming in, and we could get everything else in neutrals and use all the hand-me-down furniture my family gave us."

"I'm glad you're feeling inspired," and he looks over the paint color himself, turning to smile wider this time. "This'll be great, let's go pick it up now."

I kiss him, hugging him as well as I can, and waddle to our room to get ready.

After changing our clothes, I find myself on the couch, looking longingly at my sneakers from across the room. Mike walks in, follows my gaze to where my shoes sit, and places my shoes in front of me, chuckling as he goes for his keys.

I sigh, defeated. “Mike, I'm gonna be honest, there's no way I can tie my shoes.”

“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“���“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”“”

i know that this part 2 is late and was way shorter than the first but i did just want to give a little more attention to dad!mike because uh so cute?? anyways

thanks for reading!!

[itzzaira]

Misa from Cabin 2 has made floating lanterns for the crafts, would you like one? @tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

Walking.

Was not as easy.

As Mikey remembered it being.

The poor turtle gasped, out of breath and leaning against a wall, trying to steady his shaky legs and catch his breath. After having cried himself out, Mikey had decided it would be best to just... leave. Stuck in his cabin until the craft fair was over. He was probably bringing everyone's mood down, and it's not like he was being useful. He couldn't make pretty crafts like everyone else and didn't want his family fussing over him when they could be having fun. So he would just. Stay inside. Keep Ice Cream Kitty company.

What the box turtle forgot was the fact he wasn't able to walk long distances on his own anymore. He was still too weak. Which, okay, fine, made sense- the reason however was stupid. Like seriously? He didn't do much! He just opened a mystic portal that almost killed him twice for Leo! And he didn't even do it on his own! No big deal.

Try telling his body that.

The turtle prepared himself mentally before letting go, and taking unsteady steps again. But once his legs started hurting with the strain Mikey decided it was probably for the best to take a break. So at the first shaded area he found, he sat down. Leaned his head back, and closed his eyes.

...Oh, who was he kidding.

He wouldn’t get up for a while. So the box turtle could only pray his brothers wouldn’t notice his abs- Michelangelo.

His eyes snapped open.

He had promised Michelangelo to make bracelets and pass them around.

...

He grumbled, leaning his head against his knees. Michelangelo would understand. He was a version of him, he would get the idea. Tiredly, Mikey opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling.

Being greeted by many, colorful, floating lanterns.

His eyes lit up, forgetting his misery for a moment.

Blue, red, yellow, green, pink... every color floated around beautifully, decorating the ceiling with pretty sparkles, lighting up the cave, and matching with the crystals. Woah... how had he not seen the lanterns before? They were beautiful.

Now that he actually looked... Mikey saw many versions of them with the lanterns, laughing and smiling as they let the objects float into the air... getting the lanterns from a stall Mikey sat pretty close to.

"Hello!" He yelped at the sudden voice, flinching back and turning around. A young child dressed in red was standing in front him, holding a yellow lantern in her hands. Wait, she looked familiar... Misa! Right! The one who gave Raph that plush turtle. Mikey had been too tired to say hi. "Are you okay?"

"..." Mikey smiled softly. Aw. Oh that voice was cute. "Misa, right? I'm okay. Just tired."

She smiled brightly and held out the lantern she was holding. "Would you like a lantern? Misa made them herself!"

"You did?" He looked impressed, sitting up straighter and holding out his hands to grab it- but stopped, just before he touched the lantern.

...

His hands shook too much. It... would be best to not accidentally destroy the art she had worked so hard on. She Mikey lowered his hands, admiring the piece with his eyes instead. "It's very pretty! Did you make it all on your own?"

Misa giggled sweetly, and nodded. Mikey looked over the lantern again.

The details... the craftsmanship, the colors, the lights, how had she even managed to make them float-? And they glowed! The sun was painted on so nicely too. Oh they were so pretty. She had done an amazing job. "They're very pretty." He complimented. "Could you throw that one into the air for me? I can't do it."

Hey, he might not be able to make art anymore... but he could still appreciate it.

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion

[spacemimz]

Between exams I managed to throw this together. Lately I've been kinda obsessed with drawing stuff that feels sorta like a mural or could be like a stained glass window. Just pieces with a lot of mystic vibes

Fitting for Mikey, right?

Also his hair was fun, sadly through the shading you can't quite see all the gray streaks in his hair

[tmntkiseki]

Hiya!!! This is for the TMNT anniversary ask game!!

My questions are 2, 13, 28 and 33!

Thank you and have a great day!! 😊

2.) What was your first exposure to [TMNT iteration]?

Since no iteration was specified, I'm gonna throw a curveball and go with 1987

So, by definition, the first TMNT iteration I became familiar with was 2003 because it was the one that was airing when I was a child. However, in the town I grew up in, there used to be a VHS rental store and every week, my mom would take my brothers and I there to rent movies and the like (since it was much closer than the Blockbuster.) While picking out some cassettes of Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog, I spotted some cassettes of the 1987 show and was like "Oh hey, the Ninja Turtles! Isn't that the show that airs every Saturday on 4Kids?" and even though I was barely interested in the 2003 show at that point, I still got them anyway because. Cute animal protagonists. (I really loved cute animal protagonists growing up. It's a wonder I never became a furry XD)

Now, I was definitely confused as to why the show didn't resemble the one airing on TV (silly eight-year-old me had no idea that the 1987 and 2003 series were two separate shows), but to my memory I did enjoy those episodes of 1987 I watched via those cassettes. Which episodes were they? Absolutely no idea since I can't even remember what happened in them; it's part of the reason why I want to finally get around to watching Seasons 1 - 7 of 1987 in full so I can figure which episodes those were because it's been haunting me for MONTHS.

13.) Which version of Michelangelo is your favorite?

This one is tough... 2003 is my first exposure to the character and thus the one I think of when I think "Michelangelo," but... I mean... The Last Ronin, dude. That mini-series is the definition of "be careful what you wish for" because yes, fans finally got to see what Michelangelo would be like if he reached his full potential as a ninja, but it came at the cost of Leonardo, Donatello, Raphael, Splinter, and Casey all dying. (Speaking of which; imagine a TV special where 2003 Mikey is forced to fight Roninverse!Mikey. Would that be cool or what?)

28.) What is one thing you would like to see explored more in TMNT art/fics?

Damn, another tough one. I feel like fans of the 2003 series already do an excellent job of exploring things that were never achieved in canon. Michelangelo angst, Donny having severe trauma from his experiences in the SAINW universe, Raphael being put in more vulnerable positions where he's the one who needs to be rescued/saved... I think the one thing I'm craving is some introspection on Leo and the fact that, outside Usagi, who lives in another dimension and can't visit a whole lot, he doesn't really have any close friends? So much of his character revolves around his dedication to protecting his family that the big question mark is, you know, who does Leo become when he's without his father and brothers (just don't kill off Raph, Don, Mikey, and Splinter to do that please sdkgdgjk)

33.) What is your favorite thing you've made for TMNT?

This fanart

It's not my best work, but I am so stupidly proud of the shading and detailing on Leo and Raph. (If you decide to like/reblog, please be sure to do so via the original post.)

[terrahlee-cup]

The version that isn’t a bunch of screenshots in a trench coat 💜 @mousermayhem

"What are you doing?" Donnie had entered the infirmary to the sound of breaking glass. Slash was frozen, stood in front of what had probably been an empty vial. A glance around the room told him that nothing else had been moved. Meanwhile Slash looked like he'd seen a ghost. "Hold on, I'll get a broom. Stay there."

Donnie was quick to grab a broom and dustpan from a storage closet. Instead of listening, Slash had crouched down and started picking up pieces of glass. "I'm- I can clean it. I can fix it, it's fine." Donnie frowned. Not Raph, right.

Careful to avoid the glass, Donnie knelt down and stopped the other's hand. "Hey, it's just a vial, it's not a big deal. Let me use the broom so you don't hurt yourself, uh," he watched as drop of blood hit the floor, "any worse at least." He could feel the larger turtle's hand trembling, but Slash did eventually stand up. Did he still look several shades paler than normal? Yes. Was it an improvement? Also yes.

It didn't take long to sweep up the pieces of glass. There wasn't much of it in the first place. Still… Slash seemed terrified of how Donnie would respond. It was so- his twin knew mistakes like this were easy to fix. "I'm not mad you, you know, it was probably just an extra anyway. What were you trying to do?"

Slash hesitated, tail curled tightly enough around his leg that it would probably bruise. "I- I was curious… about the equipment." Donnie blinked. Most of the equipment in the room would be more useful as a weapon if it was just thrown. Unless Raph's clone had suddenly taken an interest in chemistry, which he doubted.

"I can explain it then, let me just throw the glass away." Hazard disposed of, Donnie tried to decide where he should start. "Was there something specific you wanted to look at?" Slash shook his head. That wasn't much to work with… he'd just start with the one that was easiest to explain.

As Donnie described how each of the machines worked, Slash appeared to slowly relax. Eventually he started asking questions; Donnie definitely caught the other turtle's tail wagging at a few points. He might have talked more about those topics. Just a little.

They'd made quite a bit of progress through the different pieces of equipment when Leo interrupted them for lunch. He laughed when he got two matching glares for his troubles, "I know you're in the middle of something, but you both need to eat lunch at some point. Can you pause the science for ten minutes maybe?" Donnie groaned, but he did let Leo drag him away.

He made quick work of his lunch, which Mikey found incredibly amusing, and hurried back to the infirmary as soon as their dad returned with the plates. He just waved it off when his dad yelled after him, "Don't overwhelm him Donatello!"

Slash actually perking up when he saw Donnie reenter the room was more exciting than he'd expected. "I can keep going from where I left off?"

"Fine with me." Slash hovered nearby while Donnie launched back into detailing how everything worked. A few minutes in, Donnie realized that this was the best opportunity he'd had to get some answers. He'd have to be careful, but maybe he could manage a few without Slash getting defensive?

"Hey, since we're looking at the medical equipment anyway, can I check a couple things?" Slash tilted his head,

"Like what exactly?"

"Just your weight and a blood sample. You don't have to but-"

"Sure, which one do you want first?" Donnie paused, stunned. That went over… well? That was new.

"Um, since you're already standing we can do weight first." Slash trailed after him, stepping onto the scale before Donnie even said anything. He ended up having to look at the number twice since he'd forgotten to grab a sticky note. "Okay got that… you should sit down while I draw blood. Mikey almost passed out once because he wanted me to hurry up and wouldn't sit like I'd told him to." Donnie just barely caught the other turtle's soft huff of laughter.

"That was an interesting choice." Donnie grinned as he grabbed the supplies,

"Yeah, he has never lived it down. He wanted to play a new game we'd found."

"Not happy when he woke up later?" Slash held out his arm without any prompting.

"Thanks. He was grumpy for the rest of the day because Raph and Leo had gotten to it first. He hates when he doesn't get to play them first." Donnie stuck a label on the sample and set it aside, "Anyway, that's all done."

"Is that it, or…"

"Well, it's not medical, but I did want to ask what happened the night you came here. What even triggered the fight?"

"Long story short they were being twats. Didn't like me hanging back when we fought you all. I guess they decided I wasn't helpful enough to be kept around."

"They were that mad about you not just charging in."

"You've fought them, you know they aren't exactly smart. Just because Blue has Leo's memories doesn't mean he's good at using the information."

"I hate that I have no argument against that… wait- you all have names? Nicknames?" Slash scoffed and rolled his eyes,

"No, I'm the only one who does that. The other three have never seemed to give a shit."

"What are the other two?" Slash's face flushed,

"… Violet and Sunny."

"Oh boy, Mikey will be ecstatic about those. He's been losing his mind over how to pester them more easily." Donnie jumped at the responding low growl and flash of teeth.

"Don't. Use those names."

"Oh, is there… some reason why?"

"They don't know I call them that." Well now he was even more confused. It wasn't information they really needed, though, so backing away from the touchy topic it was. Something more positive… right.

"Do you want me to remove those things on your neck and wrists? They can't be comfortable." He'd already confirmed that the metal pieces weren't sending any kind of signal. So, they weren't too concerned about their own safety and messing with Dunn's tech wasn't Donnie's idea of a good time. He still figured he should at least offer.

Instead of enthusiasm the offer was met with reluctance. Slash scratched at the scales surrounding the collar while he spoke, "That wouldn't be the best idea. If anyone other than Dunn tries to remove it it's set to explode. Dying isn't something I feel like risking at the moment."

"Wh- so he'd rather throw the four of you away than let you get those things off? Is he insane?"

"Would it really surprise you if he was? Really? He can always create more clones anyway. We're not exactly precious to him. Hell, the tracker in mine is broken and Dunn hasn't bothered replacing it. That should say plenty."

"Wait, does he have a remote for it? If he set it off in here…"

"It blows up if it's removed. If he had a remote I guarantee the bastard would have told us." Donnie groaned,

"I guess I'm just going to have to trust that."

"Hm."

"Okay, I guess that's all I have for now… I'll let you do your thing. Maybe rest your leg for a bit if you want to move around more." Slash nodded, so Donnie grabbed the sticky note and blood sample and headed back towards the main room. He needed to run a test and talk with his family.

[onboardsorasora]

Not sure if I like it, but this not about me😅 so here we are Tennis AU;

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5

Part 4!

Daniel collapsed onto his back, star fishing on the court in the shade. His white shorts rode up to show off his pulsing sweaty thighs. His leg hairs were pressed down and slick. His tattoos glistened.

He'd been running drills for too long, if you asked Micheal (don't), he'd say it wasn't long enough. They'd been at it all day, running through their program steadily.

His phone went off in his duffle.

"Is that the power rangers theme?" Micheal paused and raised a brow.

"Kim Possible actually, rude." Daniel pointed his racquet limply in Michael's general direction.

"They're the same tone." Blake called out, chin tucked to his chest, typing away on his phone in the shade. "Doesn't explain why you've gone back to it though."

"It's Max's tone." Daniel was grinning, all teeth. "When my phone's like off silent anyway."

"We allow you on one extracurricular and you come back with a boyfriend." Michael teased throwing a tennis ball at him.

"hey!" Daniel cried out and shifted his hips, turning onto his side to avoid it. Micheal threw another and Daniel lifted the racquet to lob it away with a cheer.

The phone went off again and Daniel scrambled up to get it but was blocked by a new barrage from Michael. He ran off laughingly in the opposite direction to 'safety'.

"Nope." Micheal popped the p with his lips, a cheeky grin present. "We're not done yet, you can check your sexts after."

Daniel whined, pouting his lips and batting his eyes at his trainer.

"Save the pretty eyes for Max, now on mark let's go asshole."

"you can send him a pic of your legs after." Blake looked up quickly with a smirk before going back to his phone.

Daniel grumbled but prepared himself for work anyway. The quicker he got through this, the quicker he could see what Max sent him.

They'd been texting since the night of the beach party. They had spent the rest of the afternoon together, chatting away at a table mostly in their own world.

Max had introduced him to a few people on his team and a couple other drivers who had passed through. It was a great time getting to know Max the man outside of the paddock and around people he felt comfortable with. He was very funny, he made Daniel laugh breathlessly the whole afternoon. They bantered relentlessly, creating and extending jokes about everything.

That was two days ago, Max had escorted him back to the flat he and his team were renting and they exchanged numbers. Daniel kissed him at the door and ducked into the apartment quickly to hide his blush. Not the suavest move, but Max made his brain stop working.

Since then, they've been texting when Daniel wasn't getting his ass kicked by his best friend slash trainer. Max appreciated his training camp and he tried to avoid texting during the day knowing Daniel was busy and needed to focus.

They had dinner plans tonight, so realistically the texts could have been confirming their date or rain checking.

That thought stopped him suddenly and he missed an easy volley.

"Focus DR!" Micheal called, calmly sending over another ball. Daniel shook his head physically to dislodge the thought. He'd think of it all after.

They went on until he was gasping for breath, only stopping after Daniel declared a strike, demanded a union and then plopped himself bodily beside Blake who grimaced. He barely dodged the impending wet hug.

Daniel grasped for his phone, swiping away all the calendar notifications and social media messages to find the one he wanted. He was single minded, completely ignoring the freeze pop electrolyte drink that Michael chucked at him. It bounced off of his sweaty face.

He opened the text thread from Max;

Max V 🥵

Are we still on for 8?

Oops, sorry. Tell Michael not to be mean.

"Max says not to be mean to me Mikey, he's a world champ, you should listen to him." Daniel called out, grinning in delight. Micheal snorted a laugh. Daniel texted back

8 is still good for me. Mike's being evil as always. I swear he gets off on suffering😢

Daniel tore open the freeze pop with his teeth and sucked greedily at the cold drink. His phone went off again in his hands.

Max V 🥵

Poor thing. I'll have to take care of you then, I'll pick you up at 7:30.

Daniel tried to ignore the flutter in his chest at the thought of Max taking care of him.

Gonna show me a good time? 👀

Max V 🥵

Do you want to sleep over?

Daniel barely managed to keep from choking, the empty freeze pop plastic feel out of his mouth. He looked around swiftly and shifted in his seat, suddenly full of energy. He could feel his heart thudding in his chest now, a thrumming in his veins that wasn't there before.

He tilted his phone away from Blake's potential gaze, completely regretting sitting so close now. He bit his lip, unable to pinch his grin.

I'd love to.