#and then acted surprised for about half a second before mikey was like WAIT YOU TOTALLY KNEW DIDN'T YOU >:((

[love-killed-the-superstar]

i need everyone to know that leo is the first brother mikey introduces his new boyfriend to

[well-its-not-human-anymore]

Hi! Could I get HC from the guys? 👀 How they would always react to catching the reader seeing them "badly", in addition to the fact that he usually avoids them, but with his brothers it is incredible and they feel bad because they think they do not like him.  But she actually likes them and she looks at them like that because she "studies" them to draw them and she is too clumsy and shy to talk to them, that's why she ends up avoiding them. Until finally he catches her drawing them with lots of hearts or maybe they'll find her notebook with lots of portraits of them.

It's kind of funny because when I study people to draw them, they think that I look at them with hatred xd maybe I should increase my glasses prescription

God, glasses are such a pain in the ass but I have to wear them. If I don't anyone within my near vicinity doesn't have a face. But why they gotta get dirty so easily???? Makes me wanna explode or something

TMNT Headcanons

The boys w/ a quiet reader who is fine with his brothers but acts cold around him and stares a lot

Michaelangelo

mikey couldn't describe his disappointment upon realizing that you didn't want to be friends with him

well, you never actually said that to him

but he was pretty sure it was the case

you'd never made an effort to be friends with him

stared at him an awful lot though, but there was always something off about your gaze when you looked at him

like you were sizing him up, scrutinizing him, like he was an opponent

it kinda worried him

to add to that, you didn't even attempt to look embarrassed when he caught you staring

you'd just stare harder

on your end it was quite the opposite

you always found the brothers fascinating and you LOVED studying their anatomy, you'd confessed this to Donnie early on and he happily indulged in your questions

and you loved how easily you got along with the boys

well, except for Mikey

but it wasn't for a lack of trying

whenever the orange sporting turtle came around your normally flamboyant personality crept back into its little corner and hid

any words of excitement that had previously been with you died in your throat

for the longest time you didn't understand it

and you hated not understanding things, so you turned to your only outlet

that's how you ended up with an entire sketchbook full of the youngest brother in vastly different styles and poses

you had a separate book for the others, none of them as detailed as this

and when you stared to analyze you'd fallen into a habit of not looking away when caught

by your logic, if you stared back hard enough he'd look away first or just assume you'd zoned out

he didn't

and on one hectic day you'd left your sketchbook open on the kitchen table in your rush to get to work

you hadn't even noticed the slip up until Leo texted you to let you know during your shift

instant panic

in truth, Mikey was the one who discovered the book upon waking up from his nap and he'd spent the next three hours analyzing every drawing

when you finally dropped in after work to grab your book the turtle was waiting for you with it in hand

he'd asked you if you hated him

you told him no and accepted your sketchbook from him

he was relieved and screaming excitedly, just in his head

"Do you maybe wanna hang out sometime?"

You sighed in relief and nodded

"If you're cool with it- you don't think I'm weird do you?"

"I mean- you are talking to a turtle..."

you lightly shoved his chest and smiled, although it faded within a second

"Oh hush, 10 o'clock tomorrow? I'll bring snacks."

he was so stunned he could only shoot you finger guns in approval

Donatello

Donnie genuinely couldn't understand your unease around him

he'd followed all the proper expectations of holding a conversation

he was polite and engaging

so why wouldn't you talk to him?

this boy has read so many social blogs to try and figure out what he was doing wrong and he just couldn't put his finger on it

you were fine with the rest of his brothers, you'd stay up for hours laughing and gaming with them

you'd even sat still long enough to listen to Leo explain some old Japanese myth that he'd read about in a book

but with him it was always a quick, cordial greetings and farewells with bland small talk in between

Donnie had picked up pretty quickly that you weren't interested in any sort of interaction with him

and he convinced himself that that was okay

but that didn't explain the staring

he'd caught you in the act several times, eyes narrowed and locked on him

especially when you were alone with him in a room or just in the lair

the poor turtle just couldn't put his finger on it

then he caught you drawing, he noticed early on that you always carried a small sketchbook on your person but he didn't think much of it

and it wasn't so much that he caught you drawing, in fact, he wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't snapped at him while he was trying to do a sudoku puzzle

"Damn it Donnie! Stop moving! If I fuck this arm up one more time I'm gonna decompose!"

he'd quickly moved back into the position he was in prior

"sorry?"

but you'd gone silent again, occasionally glancing up from your work and running your eyes along his frame before looking down again

nearly twenty minutes later Donnie had finished the puzzle and it seemed as though you had finished your drawing

"Uh- can I ask what are you-"

"I'm drawing you but you kept moving your arm and making me mess up. You always do that when I draw you so every damn picture I have of you stays a sketch because you always come out looking like a fucking octopus."

He just stared

"Sorry, I uh- I didn't mean to explode on you like that. I'm just- I'm really bad at talking to you okay? It's so easy with everyone else but you've just gotta be so damn smart all the time and I worry that you'll think I'm boring so I just... don't talk to you?"

Donnie is stunned™

You refuse to show him the drawing until you can complete the line art and color it

But at least he knows that you don't hate him

Leonardo

To be completely honest Leo didn't mind that you were distant from him

You created an aura of calm when you were around and you always managed to distract his brothers while you were present

And he enjoyed the alone time

But after a few months that calm acceptance turned into jealousy

Not that he would ever admit it

He would just push it off and ignore it, that usually seemed to work

So why wasn't it?

And your obvious staring problem didn't help at all

Leo didn't spend much time considering his appearance but something about your gaze made him self conscious

And he hated that with a passion

Why was it that you could hold entire debates with his siblings? Even his dad for gods sake. You'd have hour long conversations on almost everything but whenever he tried to say hello you'd make up some lame ass excuse and scamper away

He just wanted an explanation

It appeared that the answer resided in your sketchbook

You'd left it open on the couch when Raph had called you away to spar with him

Leo very delicately flipped through the pages, careful not to disturb some of the polaroid pictures of his brothers

He was admittedly surprised to find pictures of himself among the pages

One of him in a handstand, another of him meditating, there was even one of him mid sneeze that you'd recreated with pencil and paper

The image of his eyes was the most startling, but the book held no polaroid of his eyes

You drew them from memory

And he was shocked when you returned to the room and didn't immediately panic

But that might have been because he didn't try to withhold your book from you

"It took me three months to color them, your eyes. I could never get the shade of blue just right."

"I'm gonna be honest with you y/n, I really thought you didn't like me."

You had the nerve to roll your eyes and follow it with a laugh

"I don't. I mean- I do but no, you just remind me a lot of myself and I haven't exactly figured out why yet. I thought that maybe if I drew you it'd be easier to figure you out..."

"Well did it help?"

You grinned

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

Raphael

If there was one thing Raph hated it was not understanding something that was right in front of him

which is ironic, as a much younger version of himself probably couldn't care less

and a part of him wishes he didn't care about it so much

he wishes that your blatant avoidance of him didn't upset him

but shit, it got under his skin better than any needle ever could

was it too much to ask for you to just tell him what he said or did wrong?

was he asking too much of you?

but on the same scale you'd never shown obvious dislike towards him, you were never rude and you sure as hell didn't talk shit about him to his brothers

you got along great with them

in fact it was getting more difficult to remember a time before you became a part of his family

he'd become so used to your presence that it no longer put him off when he found you hanging around the lair

but in another sense he was certain that you hadn't spoken more than three sentences to him in your time knowing him or his family

so what was the reason

several months in he finally caught onto the staring, your narrow, glassy gaze locked onto his body and refusing to look away

he stared right back at you

this annoyed you for several reasons

because within five seconds your very peaceful drawing session had turned into a staring contest and your eyes were getting VERY dry

then you exhaled in a half-sigh and looked back down at your paper

"Huh, I guess your head is more of an oblong shape..."

he took offense to this

"What tha' hell is that supposed t'mean?"

now your eyes held more of an amused silent judgement, you begrudgingly held up your sketchbook

"I'm drawing you, you fucking walnut."

"Oh..."

now you rolled you eyes and tossed the book to him, he nearly dropped it and fumbled with the pages

your annoyance was quickly growing

"Careful with that."

He flipped through the pages at a snails pace, assumingly because he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing

you had some real talent

when he looked back up at you he was wearing that crooked smile

"and here I was thinkin' that my eyes were just green."

Hope I was able to get this down pretty well! I really enjoyed writing this one! Thanks for the patience!

-Mars 🌠

[heyheydidjaknow]

Chapter 11

Guess who's back? Back again. Back three hours late, but back nonetheless. I'd feel more sorry if I was more sorry. This is officially the longest chapter as of now, so, yay. Someone challenged me to not swear for a chapter, and I believe I fulfilled that requirement. I'm just gonna go sleep.

Update: APPARENTLY, TUMBLR DOES THE TRANSFER FORMATTING THING ON LAPTOPS AND I HATE EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE RIGHT NOW SO MUCH. I usually do all my editing on my phone, so I knew no such luxury. I have never been more pissed. That is a lie, but my anger is still very genuine.

Chapter 11

“Where were you?”

The younger brother looks up at his senior. “Huh?”

“You were gone all night.” Leonardo leans against the door, crossing his arms. “Don’t look so surprised; I started getting up early to meditate.”

He shrugs in feigned nonchalance, already dreading the ensuing conversation. “Out.”

“And where’s ‘Out’?”

Donnie slides out of his chair, deciding his straining eyes need a break. “Just went to check on Y/N is all.” He rubs them with his arm, quietly noting the sounds of fighting in the dojo were starting to cease as he sits on the couch. His rounds of sparring with Leonardo were finished a little over an hour ago; a part of him is grateful it took him this long to corner him.

This got a raised brow. “You were checking on her for hours?”

He does not look him in the eye. “It’s not impossible.”

“In the middle of the night?”

“It wasn’t that late,” he argues.

“Donnie,” he presses, “you didn’t get home until five in the morning. Where were you?”

He feels his face heat up. “I said.”

Leo leans down to look his brother in the eye. “Final answer?”

He swallows a yawn. “Look, I know it was stupid—”

“I didn’t say it was stupid.”

“No,” he snips, mildly irritable from a lack of sleep. “You implied it.”

The doors to the dojo slide open, the disgruntled look on Raphael’s face all the evidence the other two need to know who won.

Mikey dives onto the couch, sprawling out next to his slightly older brother. “Did you ask yet?”

“I did.” He glances at the disgruntled boy. “Donnie was, apparently, at Y/N’s all night.”

The reaction is immediate.

“Details!” The small victor sits up, leaning forward on his knees in usual attentiveness. “Was she good?”

“What did you—shut up, Mikey.” Raph’s attention snaps back to his tallest brother. “What did you do to her? Did you—”

“Wait, hold on!” Donnie’s face feels uncomfortably hot. “N-Nothing happened!”

“Yeah, sure.” The second eldest rolls his eyes. “You think we fell off the truck yesterday? Who stays with a girl all night in her room without something happening? Nobody,” he cuts him off before he can defend himself.

The youngest’s voice rises over his brother’s before he can continue. “Dude, big picture!” He gestures to his brown-eyed brother. “He got with a girl first! He has valid info or whatever he says and stuff!”

“What are you two even talking about?” He wrings his hands. “Look, nothing happened!”

“Then what were you doing at her house,” Raphael eggs. “You weren’t just sitting there, right?”

“… no.”

“Then what were you doing there?”

He pauses, the two excitable boys waiting on bated breath. “She wanted me to spend the night,” he explains carefully, “because she was having bad nightmares and didn’t want to sleep alone.” He leans back, tossing his hands in the air. “That’s all.”

Silence falls.

“So,” clarifies Raphael, “you spent however many hours in her room, in her bed, and you didn’t make a move?”

“I—look!” The conversation is taking a shift for the worse. “I was trying to be nice! The last thing she needed was me doing whatever you’re insinuating!”

“He has a point,” Michelangelo nods knowingly. “Brownie points are key.”

“When did I say I was doing this for brownie points?”

“Look,” the eldest interjects. “Regardless of whether or not he was doing the ‘smart’ thing—” air quotes, “my bigger concern is that you didn’t bother calling to let us know where you were. You could’ve—Raph, do you have something to say?”

He rolls his eyes. “Are you really gonna act like you wouldn’t do the exact same thing if it were you?”

The leader pauses. “Would you like to take this somewhere more private?”

“Sure.” A venomous smile curls Raph’s lips. “Dojo?”

“Bring it.”

As the two leave, Donnie looks back over at Mikey. “Okay,” he sighs, “did I miss something?”

A shrug. “Man," he grins brazenly, "bold of you to assume I follow half of the things you guys say.”

He pulls his T-Phone from his utility belt. “Do you think I did the right thing? Honestly?”

Another shrug. “I dunno.” He looks over his older brother’s shoulder, reading the text on the screen curiously. “Can’t have gone too bad, though, if you two’ve been textin’ all day.

He pushes his head away with his free hand. “It hasn’t been all day,” he corrects. “She just filled me in on this week’s episode and we just kept talking after that.” He smiles faintly. “Although, she did check to see if I got home alright.”

“Hey, that’s totally progress!” He grins encouragingly. “I mean, the bed thing was bigger progress, but this is also progress.”

You push through the turnstile with a bit of difficulty, hopping on your good leg as you pull the walker over the divider using your free hand with an embarrassing clatter. “Sorry,�� you wince, feeling your face heat up as you slide down the railing. “I’m still getting used to—”

“Holy—are you alright?” The distress is apparent in the youngest’s voice as he sees you for the first time in a month. “You look like you—”

“I’m aware,” you cut him off dryly, holding a paper bag as you stumble over to the couch. “Whatever you’re about to say, I’m aware.” You put it down in Donnie’s lap. “Here.”

He blinks, picking it up as you regain your bearings. “What is it?”

“Not poison or snakes. Open it.”

“Yo,” Mikey interrupts, pointing at your banged-up leg, “can I draw on your white thing?”

It takes you a second to figure out what he is referring to. “Oh, you mean—yeah.” You lean your head back against the back of the couch. “Just know that I’ll take white-out to anything that could get me kicked out of school.”

“Deal!” He runs off to your room as his brother pulls the bag open, pulling the pastry from its confinement.

“What is it,” he repeats, icing already on his fingers.

“Cupcake.”

He fingers the wrapper, his brick stare seeming almost to dissect it. “What is it for?”

“Besides being messy?” You smile gently as you watch him try to figure it out, feeling your heart swell. “It’s food.”

“How much of it is edible?”

“Everything except the paper bit.”

He peels the liner back. “And how do you eat it, exactly?”

You lean forward on your arms. “The goal is to eat the frosting and the cake part at the same time, so however you accomplish that.”

He smiles sheepishly, eyes softening as he looks back at you. “Is it possible to eat it without the frosting getting on your face?”

“Not that I’m aware of.”

He tentatively holds eye contact with you as he takes a bite, unsurprisingly getting icing sticking to the space around his upper lip. You wait tentatively as he licks the excess off, blinking in delighted surprise. “What’s in this, exactly?”

You feel yourself beam at his tone. “It’s nothing too special,” you shrug nonchalantly, bubbling with excitement. “It’s a personal favorite; red velvet with cream cheese frosting.”

He takes another bite. “Do you have more? Follow-up question,” you note his speech quickening, “can you make more?”

“Totally,” you nod in agreement. “I wanted to make you something as thanks for—”

“Back!”

Donnie shoves the rest of it in his mouth as soon as you two hear him.

“Sorry for the wait; I couldn’t find my stuff.” He plops down with a cardboard box filled with various discarded art supplies. “I’d use spray paint, but he—” he nods to his brother, currently trying to choke the rest of the cupcake down—“said I’m not allowed because of fumes or somethin’, so.”

“Fair.” You allow him to drape your calf over his legs, digging into the cardboard box he was carrying and pulling out a pencil. “Got any plans?”

“You’ll see,” he grins, starting to sketch shapes out.

The taller of the two wipes the excess frosting off his fingers. “Oh,” he snaps his fingers, “when you two are done with that, Y/N, I still gotta do that physical.”

“Physical?”

He clears his throat in preparation for a very redundant explanation. “A physical,” he explains calmly to his over-excited brother, “as in a physical examination, not whatever you’re thinking of.”

He blinks. “Like a doctor’s visit?”

“Donnie was asking about my recovery time,” you add helpfully. “Apparently, it’s weirdly long, but I don’t have any weird medical problems, so he wanted to see what the deal was.”

“That, and your comment about how ‘insanely high’ we jump, apparently.”

“Do not air quote that!” You lean your head back to look at him, hair falling onto his lap. “Not when you guys put high jumping to shame.”

He adamantly avoids eye contact, face warming. “It’s not that high,” he mumbles. “Especially if we’re bringing a sport like high jumping into this.”

“I respectfully disagree.” You lay your head down properly, looking up at him from his thighs. “Considering your falling form, it is a miracle you still have working hips.”

“What’s wrong with my form?”

“It doesn’t include a parachute.”

“Okay,” Mikey interjects, “it may not last unless you cover it with something. Just, FYI.”

You lean your head up to look at him. “Noted,” you nod. “I’ll pick up varnish or something on my way home.”

He nods. “Oh,” he asks innocently, “mind turning over? I have to get the other side and I don’t want to hurt you.”

For some inexplicable reason, the boy you are currently laying on looks as though someone has put a gun to his head.

You do as asked with a bit of difficulty, bringing your knee closer to your chest as it is now closest to the back of the couch. “Like that?”

“Perfect. Thanks.”

You look up at Donnie. “Let me know if you need me to move,” you smile. “If your thighs go numb or anything.”

His voice is oddly tight. “You’re good.”

Your eyebrows furrow. “Sure? You sound very uncomfortable.”

“Never better.”

“He’s alright,” Mikey reassures you, shooting a thumbs up at his brother behind your back.

“...Alright.” Your eyes focus absentmindedly on what you thought was a couch cushion; upon further inspection, it appears to be a repurposed training mat. You bring the arm not currently pinned to your side under your head, humming an earworm softly.

The boy currently under you is silently panicking as your fingers squeeze gently around his knee, making a conscious effort to stare at the television and only at the television with his hands hovering awkwardly over you. Surprisingly enough, out of the corner of his eye, he does not catch his younger brother trying to stare at you weirdly, sincerely focused on drawing.

You feel him, eventually, resting his hands down, one resting in between your shoulder blades, the other in your hair, twisting a lock of it around his fingers gently. “Still alright,” you ask.

His voice is almost airy, now. “Mhm.”

‘This is nice.’ You trace little designs into the mat as your mind begins to wander, the boys starting to talk about something you struggle to pay attention to. This is not the closest you have been to him physically, but it is nice not to be crying this time around. "Domestic, almost, even if he doesn't think so.’

‘I should learn how to braid.’ Braiding is not something he has necessarily needed to know how to do in the past, but as he wraps the fibers around themselves, curious about the texture, he wishes that he knew; using your hair as a material of sorts would certainly be interesting, and he knows he has the dexterity for it. Admittedly, the conversation is less of a conversation and more of a speech on his brother’s part, but he tries to pay attention.

“So,” Mikey continues, digging into the box and pulling out a pencil sharpener, “he’s watching this guy all stealth-like, right? The guy’s out here, giving out his plans like they’re candy or whatever, and he’s just kinda recording it on one of those little tape recorders you used for that one thing a couple weeks ago-- you know the ones, and-- you don’t mind spoilers-- long story short, the guy gets caught, and when the crew got there, he was totally messed up.”

“Sounds like Batman,” you mumble sleepily-- ‘He really is warm.’

“Huh?”

“Your story.” You hoist yourself up, looking over your shoulder back at him. “Sounds like this Batman cartoon.”

“Batman?”

“Universe…” you stifle a yawn. “My universe has this thing called Batman, and there's a crossover thing in a different iteration of this universe. I guess you wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

“Different iteration?” Donatello looks down at your head in his lap, desperately in need of a cold shower.

You feel Michelangelo bend your leg forward. You nod in confirmation, trying to will yourself awake. “Didn’t I… did I?” You lay your head back down properly. “You guys are, like… mega-famous down-- back-- there.”

“I’m not sure if you did.”

“Well,” you giggle sleepily, “you are.” You try to count on your fingers. “You’ve got the original comic, the old cartoon, the two-thousand three animated show, the CGI movie, this one, the two live-action movies, the twenty-eighteen animated one-- gorgeous animation by the by that I have to show you later, Mikey-- that crossover movie with Batman, the live-action show, the other, older live-action movie, the IDW comic series, that weird one with the hats-- there’s a ton.”

“Dude, that is sick!” The resident artist grins. “I bet they were awesome.”

You consider telling him about the IDW comic. You quickly decide against it.

“How long have we-- as a property-- existed, exactly?”

“I dunno.” You shrug. “The first animated show was the eighties, I think.”

“...huh.”

You notice him fiddling with your hair, finally. You don’t mind.

“It’s been too long.”

You freeze, suddenly very awake and painfully aware of your current position.

One of the few good things about having your own apartment: you seem to have forgotten the fear of being walked in on.

“Please, relax.” You hear his smile. It does not help matters. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

The other two, astonishingly, do not seem nearly as anxious as you are.

You look up at him from your spot on his son’s lap. “You look as healthy as ever.” ‘I miss my grandpa. Is Grandma okay?’ You were unable to find your relatives on your father’s side through social media-- they could be dead for all you know.

“No thanks to my diet,” he chuckles. Yoshi walks out of your field of view. “Don’t mind me; how long have they been in the dojo?”

“Half an hour?” You hear the jostling of the box and the snap of an uncapped pen.

You hear him sigh. “Let’s just hope nobody’s died,” he mutters, walking into the dojo.

The three of you strain your ears to-- unsuccessfully-- hear what is going on. The door snaps open as the two brothers leave together in heated silence.

Mikey shakes what you can now identify as a paint pen. “Who won?”

“Nobody.” Leo’s voice, snippy. “Is she out?”

“She is not.” You turn your arm awkwardly to wave back at him.

“Then,” he shrugs, “nice to see you.”

“Likewise.”

“So,” Raph interjects, apparently very interested in the current situation, “can someone please explain what, exactly, is going on here?”

“I’m painting her white thing.”

“Of course. Donnie?”

The mortification would be apparent if you were looking at him.

“Nothin? Okay then.” You shut your eyes as he sits down on the other side of you. “You look terrible. Nice scar.”

“I am too close to very sensitive areas for you to give me a hard time, Raphael,” you warn.

“Whatever.”

“I’m heading out.” Leo nonchalantly bounds the steps, hopping over a divider.

“Tell her I say hi,” you call back. “Remember, consent is key, yellow roses lead to friendzoning, and to always use a condom.”

“... No comment.” He runs off.

“I have so many questions.”

“Ask me later.”

It takes him about twenty more minutes to finish covering the entirety of your cast in brightly colored characters and objects; if you have to describe it, you will say that the style is contemporary pop illustration with composition reminiscent of the renaissance period if the single art class you have taken is serving you right.

“This,” you smile, a little misty-eyed for some reason, “is absolutely gorgeous. Thanks, Mikey.”

He beams. “You’re totally welcome! If you ever get more white things, I’ll draw on those too, if you want.”

“Dude, for sure.” You nod in agreement, looking back at Donnie. “Isn’t it cool?”

Donatello has been quietly jabbed at for the past twenty minutes and is mostly desensitized to the quality of his brother’s art; frankly, it is not his area, and he cannot judge it one way or the other. Despite this, he gives his brother a thumbs up. “Very.”

“Don’t stroke his ego so much,” teases their older brother. “Donnie’ll get jealous.”

“Hate to steal her from you all,” he interrupts, “but I still have a physical to do, so if you would be so kind as to shut up, that would be great.”

‘Green with envy. Is that racist? No clue. Pretty colors.’ Donnie is talking to you. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were still on board.”

You nod. “Mind grabbing my walker?”

He shoots his snickering brother a glare. “Want me to just carry you to the lab?”

Panic. Immediate panic. “You sure you can carry me?”

He shrugs, smiling. “It’s only a few feet. Besides,” he points out, “aren’t you the one always going on about how strong we are by normal standards?”

You do not have a rational way to explain why the idea of being off of solid ground, held up by someone who can potentially drop you, is distressing. You also do not want to insult him in any shape, way, or form. “Promise you won’t drop me?” Your stomach turns.

“Swear it.”

“Can I paint your walker while you guys are doing that?”

“Of all the things you could've chosen--”

“Lay off.” He offers his arms. “You can trust me, I promise.”

You pause. The statement is entirely true, but your gut is screaming at you not to do that. The same gut told you that slamming your body into the person driving the car you were tied up in was a good idea.

You latch your arms around his neck, burying your eyes in the crook of his neck as to not see when and in what direction he is moving you. “Please,” you mumble, trying not to blatantly beg, “do not drop me.”

He does not exactly understand why you are clinging to him so tightly, but he is hardly one to complain. He slides an arm under your knees, picking you up.

Raphael is heckling you. You are more concerned with your body inaccurately telling you that you are going to die from this. Tears prick your eyes as you try to breathe.

He looks down at you, mind wandering as he walks away from his brothers. You look so sweet to him, shaking like a leaf in his arms. Cute. He had thought the same thing when you had started clinging to him during that movie forever ago, when you held his hand last night and pulled him back onto the bed with you. You are not normally openly vulnerable and, although he is hardly one to talk about vulnerability, it is always a sight to behold.

“Please don’t drop me.” He is not exactly sure if you are aware of your own, almost silent begging as you repeat the phrase over and over. ‘You trust me.’ His heart melts.

It takes no time to get you to his lab. He sets you down on a chair, but you do not seem to understand that as you still cling tightly to his neck.

He chuckles nervously. “I need my body to perform the physical, Y/N.”

You were not aware he had put you down. Your eyes snap open as you let your shaking, iron grip relax. “Sorry,” you mumble, face going a gorgeous shade of pink.

“No prob.” ‘Prob?’ His face changes color to match yours.

“So.” He claps his hands together just a bit too hard, slamming the door closed when he hears his brothers’ snickering. “Let’s get started.”

--

You sit on your couch, applying another coat of varnish to your cast as you listen to a cooking show because something something exposure therapy. Also, listening to people scream at one another about food textures is soothing.

Your results were not surprising to you; by the standards of humans in this universe, you are a walking talking coma patient. It was a bit funny, watching him freak out about a blood pressure that you knew-- through the help of google-- was completely normal. You are fine for the most part, if he was using the tools given correctly, and so, you are currently preoccupied with making sure the gorgeous painting on your fiberglass prison is going to stay gorgeous. The only thing he had insisted on, really, was that you not cook, after seeing your crudely applied bandages on your fingers.

You lean back into an actual couch, pulling out your phone and scrolling through pictures of gloves again. You are determined to find a good pair; the deep scars on your hands are not fading any time soon.

You can hear the window slide open. “If you’re planning on killing me--” you stop when you look up to see the look on Donnie’s face. “Something up?”

He says absolutely nothing, leaning his staff against the wall, closing the window in a daze and he stands next to the sofa. “Are you busy?”

“No.”

“Good.” His eyes glance at the space next to you. “Can I stay here for a bit?”

“As long as you like.”

He lays his head on your lap as he sits down, staring blankly at the television screen. He immediately understands why you like this-- your thighs are incredibly soft.

You immediately understand why he was awkward. You have no idea where to put your hands, but you eventually settle on his head as you turn the volume down. “What’s up?”

He takes a deep breath, licking his teeth as he sighs. “I,” he explains, “just realized what my reality is right now and I-- okay, I know this sounds stupid--”

“Not at all.”

“It does,” he insists. “I know it sounds stupid because I realized it did when I was working it out, but I just-- hear me out, okay?” His voice oozes exhaustion.

“I’m hearing you.” You listen to him, laying your phone face down on the coffee table. “Hit me.”

He takes another breath. “I just fought a giant… thing.” He rolls over, looking up at you. “Mikey called it Jacob or something, and it was about twenty feet tall and it looked like something out of a monster movie and it destroyed us in a fight.” You hear his voice rising, and you just nod along, letting him talk. “It wiped the floor with us. And the only reason it existed was that Leo, apparently, got a girlfriend named Karai-- you know her?”

“Hot alt chick with the wicked eyeshadow and eyeliner that could kill?” You nod. “Yeah, I’m familiar.”

“Her-- wait, should I…?” He trails off, shakes his head. “Another time.” He covers the side of his face with his hand, gesturing animatedly with his other. “Anyways, apparently he met this girl because she wanted to do a heist with him-- this girl, working for the Foot, of all people-- sixteen or whatever-- she goes and just touches a button to mix the DNAs of all the creatures an alien race could find on Earth, and then bails.” He realizes he is shouting, lowers his voice. “The alien creatures, in case you forgot, that look like brains and waddle around on tentacles which, by the way, makes no evolutionary sense whatsoever, decided to create a button that mixes the entirety of their samples of DNA together in a smorgasbord of wrong, okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nod along. You know what he means, even if the word he used was technically not correct.

“This thing,” he continues, officially ranting, “destroyed a building! It set the whole thing on fire, which was probably only Kraang, but also maybe had normal people in it, which is concerning.” He rubs his eyes aggressively. “So, to recap, an alienish creature named Jason or whatever got created by Leo’s crush and destroyed a building and that was just what happened today!” He raises his hands in the air, almost accidentally hitting you in the face. “I didn’t bat an eye at this!”

“Man, I feel you.”

“And I understand,” he continues, “the irony of telling you this, considering I am a giant, talking turtle created by the very same mutagen that created Justin or whatever its stupid name was, was taught ninjutsu by my ninja master father who is also a rat, and that you have already previously died--”

“All very bizarre things,” you agree.

“-- but this is just…” he sighs. “My life is getting so… weird? It was already weird, I know, but more so than I thought it reasonably should be.”

You wipe a bit of oil you notice on his cheek off with your thumb. “This world is a weird one,” you admit.

His voice is lower now as he follows your hand with his eyes. “I…” He takes breath. “I just wish we were more normal, you know? That our lives were more normal, that our existences made more sense, you know?”

You cup his face in your hand gently, remembering how your mother used to do the same for you. “I do.”

You feel him leaning into your touch. “I wish,” he mumbles, almost to himself, “that I was a normal, human teenager who went to school and didn’t know how to use a bo staff and had three, normal brothers who could try to get girlfriends without worrying about whether or not they wanted to kill them.”

You sigh, running your thumbs along the edge of his eye socket, feeling the soft skin shift under you. “You’re very well adjusted for a teenager trained in the art of assassination,” you joke softly.

He chuckles dryly, closing his eyes. “My mother is an empty canister in a locked cabinet in the kitchen.” He exhales slowly. “My stepmom was murdered by a man now actively trying to murder me and my entire family because of a decades long feud. Well adjusted is probably the highest compliment you could give me.”

“I’ve given you higher.”

“I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” You glance up at the television screen, then back at him. “You’re holding up better than I am, and you’ve been fearing for your life since you were real little.”

“Apples and oranges.” He rests his hand on yours.

“Look,” you shrug, “the way I see it, life is a series of events that all string together to the present.”

“Butterfly effect.”

“Exactly.” You smile down at him. “And if things didn’t happen exactly as they did, we never would’ve met, the world would be totally screwed, and we would be missing out on one of the greatest minds on the planet.”

He looks to see if you are being serious.

You are.

“You also wouldn’t have a broken leg and messed up hands,” he points out ruefully.

“Meeting you was worth it.”

He reaches up, running his fingers along the scar on your face. “I disagree.”

“It’s my body, and my physical detriment. It doesn’t matter if you’re stupid enough to think it wasn’t worth it.”

You feel his body relax

You two shut up for a bit, watching the show absentmindedly.

After a while, he pipes up. “It’s alright if you say no,” he starts tentatively, “but is it alright if I stay here again tonight?”

“Will your brothers mind?”

“They don’t care so long as I’m home before sunrise,” he shrugs. “I just like it here. Smells better.”

You smile brightly. “Sure,” you agree easily. “I sleep better with you here, anyways; I don’t worry about people sneaking in through the window.” You check the varnish. “I just have to wait for this to dry the rest of the way, first. You’re free to go to bed without me, though.”

In all honesty, you’re just happy not to be alone.

He nods, standing up and drawing the curtains. He sits down on the bed, untying the mask behind his head. ‘I could get used to this.’ He smiles slightly, slipping a hand into his utility belt and texting his brothers where he was to avoid his brother’s scolding in the morning. He slips that off too, dropping both onto the side of the bed and starting on the wraps on his feet and hands; he had learned his lesson when he had gotten up morning before, having gotten a few hours sleep at home, to large, noticeable indentations in his flesh where the foreign objects had been.

You glance over. “Do those go in the wash?”

He looks back. “Not usually, no.”

“Do you want me to wash them?”

‘You are too considerate.’ He shakes his head. “It’s alright.”

You shrug, putting your hands up. “Suit yourself.” You cross your hands across your stomach, staring absentmindedly back at the screen. “You can use the shower in the morning, but please do not use all of the hot water. Fridge is open if you need breakfast.”

“Nah,” he sighs, slipping the clothes into his utility belt. “I’ll eat at home.”

You nod in acknowledgement.

It occurs to him as he sets his knee and elbow pads with the rest of his things that, technically, he is stripping in front of you, and you are not batting an eye. As soon as that clocks, it also dawns on him that you are showing the most skin he has ever seen-- an A-shirt and gym shorts-- which had not even registered until he was laying in your bed. You are relaxed and in your warm apartment, watching a television program with him in your bed. You are awake and absolutely gorgeous and you feel safer with him of all people.

His heart swells as he slides under the blankets, the sound of the television white noise at this point.

You glance back at him, the phrase “Snug as a bug in a rug," coming to mind as you look over at him, struggling to keep his eyes open. “You gonna fall asleep?”

His face warms. He nods. "It's been a really long day," he admits.

“Then goodnight,” you smile. “Sweet dreams.”

He smiles sleepily. “Goodnight, Y/N,” he shuts his eyes.

You swallow.

You forgot how much you missed this.

Table of Contents

Chapter 10

Chapter 12

[real-fanta-sea]

Still taking kiss requests? 11 trikey would be cool with an od scare

wow it’s been a month? oops... anyway! Here comes your fic!

"mmmm hello handsome!!"

Usually, when the trailer door was kicked open, and Trevor stomped in, it wasn't at 2 in the afternoon, and Michael didn't stand by the sink in an embarrassingly pink apron, washing dishes. And it also didn't involve two giant plastic bags being tossed towards the kitchen while Trevor snickered and clapped his hands.

"oh my, how did you know I love it when you dress up like a french maid Mikey?"

Michael somehow found it incredibly hard to come up with a coherent answer, because T danced trough the room to slap his ass, snake his arms around him and lay a loud kiss on his neck. Instead of words, he just stabbed him with his signature 'I'll kill you' glare and fidgeted a little to shake Trevor off. It was hot inside the trailer already, and M didn't need another guy sweating into his tank top. To his surprise, the pressure T put on his back was gone in an instant, and when he turned around to find out why, he saw Trevor sitting on the table, drinking beer and checking him out with a predatory grin.

"Trevor I told you not to do that. People might see."

"Isn't it cute how afraid you are to be seen when the whole town hears you moan at night?"

Michael frowned and turned around to fish another dirty plate from the sink and scoff in disgust. When did he sign up to be a housewife? Behind his back, Trevor let out a mighty burp and threw the empty bottle across the whole room right to the open mouth of their new trash bin. When it broke with a satisfying crunch, he cheered and whooped like a teenager with his arms flying all around. It occurred to Michael he was, in fact, the only adult in the house capable of being a caretaker.

"What are you so happy about?"

Trevor opened up another beer and snickered.

"You won't believe it, Mikey. I was on the business trip as usual,"

"Uhuh..." Michael rinsed a plate, turned around and while drying it with a cloth, tuned out the sound and just watched Trevor spill beer while flapping his arms around and overact facial expressions as if he was a kid in a drama class.

"...and when I caressed him gently with my fists a couple of times, he agreed to give me a couple of packs for free!"

Still rubbing the plate, Michael just raised one curious eyebrow "Did you kill him?"

Trevor shifted and pointed the bottle to him so fast a couple of drops splashed out "What kind of animal do you take me for? Of course, I didn't kill him, but I sure took his marshmallows!"

"Wait a second, so those... things are full of marshmallows? What the fuck are we going to do with 100 bags of that crap???"

Trevor tapped his head with his index finger to articulate how stupid Michael just sounded to him. "What else do you want to do with food than eat it, Mikey?"

Michael just shot one dead glare to him and shook his head slowly.

"But I like how you're thinking; we could masturbate with them!"

"Trevor, that's disgusting..."

"Noooo try it! They are incredibly soft!"

"Stop it."

"And so runny when you heat them up! And if you are a good boy, I'd fill them with a very special cream for you..."

"T..."

"Michael, I love you, but you are one big fucking buzzkill, you know that?" Trevor slid down the table, finished the bottle and put it back into the crate. Stretching like a cat, he crossed the space between them and casually leaned against the counter next to Michael and tugged him into a half hug, leaving hand lower on his hip than Michael would have liked. He tried his best to look mad and sulking, glaring up into Trevor's grinning face.

"Aww look at those pretty lips pouting! Why don't we put them into good use..." Trevor leaned closer, and Michael slightly shivered when he felt T's hot breath full of beer and Redwoods on his lips. "...and have a challenge!"

"What?" Michael was utterly baffled. He was so damn ready for a forbidden daytime kiss, but all he could do at the moment was blink a couple of times and see Trevor pull away and laugh.

"Challenge, cupcake! To see how many of these bad boys you can fit into that pretty cockpit of yours."

"Trevor, you know I hate it when you call any part of my body a cockpit!"

"But you are not against stuffing it with marshmallows, are you?"

Michael threw the cloth he was holding to the full sink and immediately regretted the splash because the water would get behind the counter and he simply hated fixing that shit. He turned his frowned gaze to Trevor, who watched him with raised eyebrows and waited for round two of winding him up. There was no use going against Trevor who was determined to annoy him till M would give in. He might as well get it over with sooner than later.

"You know what? Fine. Let's fucking do this." Michael pointed an accusing finger and pushed it as close to Trevor's face as he could to see him cross-eyed and grin wider. "But just because you have a killer whale mouth doesn't mean you'll win!"

Michael stomped to the couch, threw his apron over the closest armrest and continued to the bathroom at the same pace, because why not taking advantage and getting his storage empty before the game begins? Judging by the sounds coming from the kitchen, Trevor decided to do the same, but in the sink right next to the washed dishes. Fucking A.

A lot of rustling and swearing later, Michael decided it was safe to return from his porcelain throne and fall back on the couch, scrutinizing Trevor's grin with suspicion and still wiping water off his hands. Trevor returned his gaze with lively flames in eyes and patted the open bag sitting on his lap.

"Ok Mikey, you start."

Michael's unimpressed gaze did not affect Trevor, determined to see his cheeks stuffed. Without a word, Michael reached into the open bag, snatched one marshmallow from the top and put it in his mouth. He almost let his angry act slip when he saw pink tip of Trevor's tongue wet his lips and then lick around the white foam as it disappeared in his mouth. Alright, he can do better than his boyfriend, can't he? The second marshmallow stuck to the inside of his cheek. And then third, fourth, fifth, tenth...

"yoo cunt fat in any mour, Miki? Yoo r a pushi!"

Michael felt a few drops of sweat roll down his temple - and instinctively frowned and balled his hands in fists. He knew he must have looked ridiculous with all the white foam sticking out his mouth, but for love of God, Michael couldn't let Trevor win, not with that smug expression he sported and with the bag almost empty, which meant just a couple of candies away from victory.

"jooosh ya waat, ya kanaaanian fek"

Fuck, his jaw hurt so fucking bad from keeping it forcibly open. It was precisely that kind of pain that woke him up in the night covered in a cold sweat after his brain gave him a dream about blowing a huge cock. Unpleasant and persistent. Michael exhaled through his nose, and while keeping eye contact with grinning Trevor, he slowly craned one hand into the almost empty bag.

Oh fuck!

Nothing could prepare Michael for the feeling of the soft, hot skin under his fingers and the impossibly wide shit-eating grin Trevor put on. It wasn't like Michael wouldn't expect T to cheat, or come up with a different kind of prank. Still, this oddly familiar thing hardening under his fingers literally took his breath away - and Michael shot up from the couch, wheezing, progressively getting more and more red as he stumbled against scarce furniture.

"Bwahahahaha, you should have seen your face, Mikey - I've never seen you more wide-eyed than now! One would think you're used to the feeling of my dick in your hand by now, baby, but thank you!"

Trevor let the rest of the laugh resonate and mix with the wheezing and choking.

"Mike? You can stop, I got it, you hate it... are you ok?"

In answer, Michael's eyes bulged out, and his face tinted blue.

"That's not funny, sugar..."

Trevor's face grew the most serious Michael had ever seen it when he quickly rounded him, hugged him from behind and pushed against Michael's ribs a couple of times with force M was sure was enough to finish him. Instead of crushing into his ribcage, the last blow loosened something within, and he just watched the cursed candy fly through the thick air and roll under the couch in a ball of saliva and dirt.

For a second, Michael could barely do anything else but take deep breaths and hang onto Trevor's arms that held him steady cautiously. However, he never was a man to put rage off, and with one quick movement, he turned around and slapped Trevor across his frightened face.

"YOU FUCKING PRICK, WHY DID YOU DO THAT!!!"

"Mikey, it was just a prank, I didn't want to kill you!"

"REALLY? REALLY? YOU'VE WANTED TO KILL ME SINCE THE FIRST TIME YOU SAW ME YOU ANIMAL!"

Not even the visible hurt and a couple of tears on Trevor's face didn't stop him from going on with his rant. He paced towards the door as fast as possible and turned around to point a finger to T one more time.

"This is the last time I put up with your shenanigans, Trevor. I'm done with you; we're over, you hear me? OVER!"

"Michael! Wait!"

"FUCK YOU!"

Michael stomped out of the trailer and right into the unforgiving Sandy Shores sun, swiftly passing a bunch of half-dissolved marshmallows, and turned around in the middle of the road to gaze back at Trevor one last time.

"MIKEY!"

"TOO LATE, T! DO YOU THINK I'LL WAIT HERE FOR ANOTHER MURDER ATTEMPT? THAT I'LL KEEP SCRUBBING YOUR DIRTY DISHES AND WASHING YOUR DISGUSTING CLOTHES WHILE WAITING FOR YET ANOTHER KNIFE IN BETWEEN MY RIBS? NO! SO LONG, LOVE, AND FU..."

Whatever it was Michael wanted to say, it was completely drowned in the sound of screeching brakes and sighs of metal being deformed in an impact. Before the world switched off and he slowly slipped into comforting darkness, Michael heard a blood-chilling cry and the same voice calling his name, a voice he painfully needed to hear and hold onto like a lifeline.

*****************

Rhythmic Beeping. So loud. Droplets of fluid. Impossibly loud. And why is this light so damn white?

Michael had to blink a couple of times before his eyes decided to focus and adjust to the brightness in the room. He had no idea what the hell has happened to him, every part of his body switched on to let him know he was in a fucking lot of pain that was somehow numbed by whatever they put into the fluid dropping steadily into his IV. As a result, every muscle in his body vibrated in a very uncomfortable, subtle way, and it occurred to him it felt like that one time when they lived above a night club - a constant, low and very intruse mumble.

Moving his head around was near impossible - there was something around his neck, keeping it still. With a minor spike of anxiety, he decided to check whether his toes and fingers even respond. Good, he could feel the sheets rubbing against his moving feet, gentle creases in the bedsheet under one of his hands and... someone else's fingers under the other?

The hand twitched as if in sleep, and tightened its grip on his own. Somewhere near his bed, a familiar sleepy grunt echoed, and Michael's memory filled his vision with many pictures of lazy mornings in a small trailer bed, where the same sensation mixed with dust dancing in scarce sunrays and unexplainable peace.

"Michael..."

"T... Trevor..."

A rustle later, Michael could finally see the familiar face hover over him and block out most of the light. He looked 30 years older than he did last time Michael saw him, with his eyes red and weighted with huge dark bags. His hair was greasy again, and his stubble coloured salt and pepper from worry. Suddenly, Michael's eyes closed under the rediscovered sensation of Trevor's palm gently caressing his cheek.

"Mikey? Are you awake?"

Michael opened his eyes again to look into Trevor's, and tears he saw gathering in them were breaking his heart.

"Trevor..."

The sudden extra weight on Michael's body as Trevor jumped onto the bed and straddled him made him wince in pain.

"Oh my God, I was so afraid you'd..."

Trevor bit his lip and tried to stop the tears by taking a shaky breath. Then, as gentle as he could ever be, he leaned in and took Michael's head in both hands, and brushed his thumbs over his cheeks in tiny circles - a movement which Michael found oddly satisfying. Just as he closed his eyes and eased into the feeling again, familiar lips gently touched his forehead and stayed for longer than ever as if Trevor tried to channel everything he wasn't able to say trough the kiss.

"I almost lost you, Mikey..."

Trevor could not hold his tears in anymore, and just let them fall down onto Michael's face as he gently pressed his forehead against the very place his lips left a moment before.

"Please don't leave me, I can't... I can't live without you!"

"I'm so sorry I hurt you, love, can you forgive me?"

Michael wasn't sure Trevor heard or understood what he said - instead of answering, Trevor just collapsed sideways and squeezed him tight, sobbing into the white sheets. With all the strength left within him, Michael pulled him into a soft hug, and let his hand resting on Trevor's shoulder.

"T?"

"M?"

"Look, I... I'm sorry it had to end this way... I overreacted and got you worried sick, that's the last thing I'd ever want."

"No, I admit, it was stupid to put my dick in the bag. I apologize, Mikey... Are you still leaving me, though?"

Michael's grip on him tightened, seeking the heat and well-known frame against him.

"... No. I said stupid things in the heat of the moment, and now I regret I did. I don't want to hurt you."

"Are you coming back home with me?"

"I am, baby - as soon as I can. I love you, T, and I'm too tired to fight it..."

Trevor's head slowly rose from this shoulder, and he could see both surprise and relief on his face. He would give anything to keep that childlike expression on for longer. His own mouth curved into a slight, but warm smile.

"Let's seal the deal with the kiss, shall we?"

Trevor slowly climbed back upon him, and this time, Michael could feel a familiar kick of lust under his belly as T's ass grazed over the sensitive area. Trevor has never been this gentle with him before, and when he closed his eyes as their lips met, all he could think of was the first time he saw him standing by a lone plane and the way it felt to fall in love at first sight with him.

"Mmmm.... Mikey, careful with that, one more poke on my ass and I'll have to ride you right here."

"Shut up,"

There was no malice in Michael's voice for just a joy of having the old horny Trevor back along with the over-the-edge suggestive banter. The grin over the flushed face above him told him Trevor was more than glad he was back to his old self too.

"And put those pretty lips to work, sugar!"

T just snickered, planted the last brief kiss on his lips and disappeared under the whirlwind of sheets.

[kinglazrus]

Therefore I am

Phic phight 2020

Submitted by @kili-kai-wox (kilikani on ffn): Danny is surprised when he receives an A+. I wonder what subject it could be from?

Summary: There are two things Danny never expected to get out of his philosophy class: an A+ and to be confronted about his never-ending existential crisis

Warnings: discussion of/thoughts about death and the meaning of death.

Word count: 2971

Today is a grim day for Danny Fenton. It just might be the end of him. He's backed into a corner, enemies approached from all sides. His allies have abandoned him. Friends, family, all gone. He's on his own out here and it doesn't look like he's going to make it. Rations are getting low.

Jazz slaps her hand against her forehead and groans. "Don't be so dramatic!"

Danny, pinned against the lockers by his friends and sisters, howls in outrage. "I'm almost out of gummy bears!" He shoves the near empty plastic bag in Jazz's face, shaking it furiously. "And look! It's mostly just the white ones! I might as well starve."

"Ooh, I love the white ones!" Tucker snatches the bag out of Danny's hand. Fishing a few gummies out, he pops them into his mouth and chews, a blissful smile on his lips.

Danny moans. "My rations."

Sam rolls her eyes.

Danny was on his way to the cafeteria for lunch when they cornered him. They came out of nowhere, surging out from the crowd of shuffling students, surrounding him before he could realize what was happening.

With Jazz in front of him, Sam to his left, and Tucker to his right, they block off all routes of escape. Except the ghostly ones, but too many students are milling about for him to safely use his powers.

Danny doesn't like the look in their eyes. Sam's eager glint, Tucker's grin, Jazz's stern frown. They all set him on edge.

"Can I just please go to lunch?" he begs. Thanks to Skulker, Danny didn't have time to eat breakfast this morning, except a handful of cereal. The only thing he wants right now is to go get some food, even if it's the crappy cardboard pizza they serve in the cafeteria. He needs sustenance damn it!

Tucker stealing his gummy bears is the deepest betrayal he could get right now.

"No," Jazz and Sam say at the same time.

Tucker stealing his gummy bears is the second deepest betrayal.

"Come on, man," Tucker says around a mouthful of gummies. "Just spill it."

"It wasn't my fault," Danny whines, wilting against the lockers. Jazz's frown deepens, turning from disappointment into a full-blown pout. Left with no other choice, Danny relents. "Fine! But I'm telling you, he was asking for it."

He's about to expose his plans but stops when he catches their confused faces. "What?" he asks.

"Lancer was asking for it?" Sam asks. She leans against the lockers next to Danny, eyebrow raised.

"Lancer?"

"Yeah. Mikey told us what happened in philosophy class. And we told Jazz," Tucker says. "What do you think we're talking about?"

Danny thinks about his parents' new ecto grenade—completely harmless to humans, of course—rigged up in Dash's locker, ready to explode as soon as someone opens the door. "It's not important right now. Philosophy? I got an A, yeah. Awesome, right?"

"And you didn't tell me!" Jazz says, offended.

Oh, Danny thinks. That's why she looked disappointed. He doesn't know how he was supposed to tell her, though, because this is the first time he's seen her all morning.

"Dude, you didn't just get an A," Tucker says.

"Okay, A+."

"Dude."

Sam, exasperated, grabs Danny's shoulders and forcibly turns him toward her. "Mikey told us how Lancer stood up at the front of the class and said your paper was the best he'd ever read in that class."

"Oh." Danny's cheeks burn and he ducks his head. "Yeah. That."

When he turned the paper in last week, he honestly thought he would fail the assignment. The night before it was due, Cujo managed to dig his way out of the Ghost Zone again and immediately wanted to play. Danny was happy to oblige since, for once, he had all his homework done on time and there were no ghosts to take care of that night. The real trouble came when he had to go downstairs for dinner, leaving Cujo in his room with a stern reminder not to leave it.

Miraculously, Cujo obeyed the command. But that meant there was a bored, excitable puppy in Danny's room, alone, for almost an hour, with nothing to play with. His room hadn't been neat when he left it, but it was trashed by the time he came back. His backpack was particularly mangled, and his essay ripped to shreds.

Danny hadn't thought Lancer would accept "a ghost dog ate my homework," as an excuse for not having the assignment done. But he no longer had the library books he used to write the damn thing in the first place. Which meant he had to replace his typed, carefully referenced, well-thought out essay with a rushed, handwritten mess that consisted only of Danny's personal thoughts.

Suffice to say, he wasn't too confident in the new essay. The last thing he expected was to get a passing grade for it, much less actual praise. Danny doesn't get praise, not outside hero work, at least. He gets lots of sighs and disappointed looks. Maybe a stern, "This is proof you can do better," when he pulls a grade higher than a D. But not praise. Never praise.

"It was... something," Danny says. He doesn't usually get embarrassed by attention, although that doesn't necessarily mean he likes it either. But getting called out by Lancer in front of the whole class was an entirely new experience.

Before Lancer started handing out the papers, he had stood at the front of the class and waved the stack in the air.

"I have to say, I'm very impressed by the work some of you did. Very thoughtful," he started. "But there is one paper in particular that I would like to bring up."

Lancer shuffled through the stack, shifting everything around until a bundle of loose leaf ripped from a notebook sat on top. The pages were stapled poorly, and the handwriting was borderline illegible. Danny knew instantly it was his and expected the worst.

"This paper was, perhaps, the most insightful essay I've ever read in all my time teaching this class," Lancer said. He beamed in Danny's direction. "It was speculative, introspective, and intuitive. Written purely from the student's own thoughts on life and death. This is what philosophy is about, and I hope I can see similar work from the rest of you in the future."

Danny sank into his seat as Lancer walked down the aisle, heading right for him, and held his paper out.

"Thanks," Danny muttered, taking his assignment. He couldn't bear to lift his gaze and meet the burning stares of his peers. The worst part, though was when Lancer asked to see Danny at the end of the day.

"Are you gonna go?" Tucker asks.

"I don't know." Danny's grip on his backpack tightens as he thinks about the paper stuffed inside. "I'm not in trouble or anything, and it didn't really sound like I have to go."

"I think you should." Jazz reaches out and ruffles Danny's hair, smiling proudly at him. "You did good, little brother. You're smart, and Lancer knows that. Whatever he wants to talk to about, I'm sure it's good."

Danny grumbles, shoving Jazz's hand away and fixing his hair. He doesn't make it neat, but he messes it up the way he likes it to be messed up. There's a difference.

"I guess. As long as no ghosts interrupt, I'll go," Danny says. Jazz is right—she usually is, much to his chagrin. Whatever Lancer wants, after what he said about Danny's paper, it has to be good. But he still hopes the Box Ghost shows up so that Danny doesn’t have to go.

"Can I have my gummy bears back?" Danny asks, turning to Tucker.

Tucker, cheeks puffed with gummies, looks down at the empty bag. He slowly shakes his head. "I don't think you want them back."

—

Danny hesitates outside Lancer's door. The final bell rang five minutes ago, and most students have already fled the school grounds. The football team is still here, somewhere, because they have practice in half an hour. Everyone else is out front waiting for their buses. Jazz left in the initial crowd. Sam and Tucker offered to hang around and wait for him, but Danny waved them off and told them to go ahead. They have better things to do.

It crosses Danny's mind that he can lie to them. If he skips out and only tells them he talked to Lancer, they will probably accept it and leave it at that. Jazz might probe him a little about it, but if he acts annoyed about it, she'll stop. But he's being ridiculous. There's no real reason why he can't walk through this door right now and get this over with. Jazz is right. It's probably a good thing. But something about it sets Danny on edge.

Sighing heavily, he reaches out and knocks on Lancer's door, standing on his toes to peek through the window.

Lancer, sitting at his desk, grading a pile of new assignments, looks up. He sees Danny and smiles, waving him inside.

Danny pauses for a second, then turns the handle and steps into the room.

"Please, Mr. Fenton, close the door and take a seat," Lancer says.

Danny does as told, closing the door a little too hard, and shuffles over to the desk closest to Lancer's. Swinging his backpack off his shoulder, he sets it down on the floor beside him and slides into the chair.

While Lancer makes a few more notes on the paper in front of him, Danny scans the classroom. Sometimes it feels like he spends half his day in this room. Lancer teaches a surprising number of courses. Danny's almost impressed by the range. Little hints of each course are scattered throughout the room. A poster about calculating surface area by the window, a cartoonish timeline of US history along the top of the wall, aperiodic table taking up most of the back wall.

For philosophy, there's a collage of famous philosophers taped to the front of Lancer's desk. Danny thinks a former student made it, because it's just some images cut out and glued onto a stiff piece of poster board.

Danny stares at each face in the collage, trying to recognize them. Friedrich Nietzsche is the only one he can identify by name. The only reason Danny remembers him in the first place is his wild mustache. Hard to forget something like that.

"Mr. Fenton."

Danny's head snaps up, gaze jumping to Lancer.

"I'd like to congratulate you again for writing such a wonderful paper" Lancer says. "But I had a few questions."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Are you okay, Mr. Fenton?"

Danny blinks. "I­­­– what?"

"In your paper, you spoke a lot about death, dying, and our perceptions of life now that we know there is some form of afterlife. Some of your points were rather... personal."

Danny thinks back over his paper. The moment he realized he had to make the whole thing up, he decided to talk about the one philosophical debate he was personally invested in: the significance of life after death. He mentioned his parents' views on the matter, that ghosts are mindless monsters, but mostly spoke about his own and what questions he had about it. Thanks to his personal experience with dying, he had a lot to talk about.

Lancer reaches for an open notebook sitting on his desk. Lifting it up, he scans the page for a moment, then reads, "'Some people falsely believe ghosts are not, and never were, human, but are instead creatures from another dimension connected to our own. While some ghosts definitely aren't human, I have met countless that were. They remember living and dying, and there is evidence of their human lives left behind. What does this mean for people who are still living? If we can die and nothing changes for us, does dying matter at all?'"

Danny immediately recognizes his own words. Lancer must have written down what Danny said in his essay. It makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t want his thoughts lying around where anyone can read them. He especially doesn't want Lancer to pick and choose them at random for whatever this conversation is.

"That doesn't really sound personal," Danny mutters.

"No, it doesn't," Lancer agrees. "But the things you go on to say after this point are concerning, to say the least. Which brings me back to my original question. Are you okay?"

Danny's face scrunches as he thinks. So what if he got personal? It's a personal matter. That was the whole point when he wrote it. He doesn't understand what Lancer's getting at.

Lancer sighs and keeps going. "'Lots of people think about what happens after they die. Usually, they're talking about religion and what waits for them on the other side. Personally, I wonder about what happens to everything I leave behind, and what dying would do for me.' Would you like to expand on that?"

Danny leans away. "No?"

"What dying would do for you," Lancer repeats.

"What are you­­– oh." Finally, realization dawns on Danny. He squirms uncomfortably. "I'm not– I don't want to–"

He cuts himself off with a sight. How is he supposed to explain what's going on in his head without giving his secret away? Danny's not okay, but he isn't not okay, either. He's just... dead.

He died, but he lived, and it changed him. And yet, at the same time, nothing changed at all. In the grand scheme of things, Danny died and everything stayed the same. No one noticed, except his friends, who were there and are probably scarred for life.

Besides, Danny lived, in the end. So he's supposed to be fine, right? But he doesn't know how to deal with going through something that traumatic and realizing it didn't matter.

Ghosts look at life differently. They don't regret dying because once you're dead, whatever led up to that point no longer matters. They remember their lives, but they don't care about them. If Danny had died all the way that day, he wouldn't care either. Thinking about that messes him up.

Lancer watches him expectantly. Danny realizes he's been silent for too long, and he has to say something.

"It's complicated."

"We have the time, if you'd like to try," Lancer says.

Danny shakes his head. "I really don't. You don't need to be worried about me, or anything. I don’t want to die or anything. I just..."

My whole life is just one big existential crisis.

"Mr. Fenton." Lancer stands up, pushing away from his desk.

Danny keeps his eyes on the philosophy collage as Lancer approaches. Holding himself perfectly still, he doesn’t look away, even as Lancer crouches next to Danny's desk.

"Okay."

There's nothing special about the word, or the way Lancer says it. He has no clue what's going on in Danny's mind right now, but he's looking at Danny with warm eyes, offering him a comforting smile, and Danny actually feels like he could be okay.

"For whatever it's worth, Mr. Fenton, I don't think my days would be the same without you. But I understand."

He really doesn't, but Danny appreciates the effort.

"If this isn't something you'd like to talk about with me, I won't push it. Perhaps I could have approached you more delicately about the matter." Lancer pats Danny's shoulder. "I hope you will talk to someone, if you need it. And don't let this stop you from pursuing your interest in philosophy."

Danny doesn't have the heart tell Lancer he only took the class because he thought it would be easy.

"You have a knack for it."

"Um, thank you," Danny says.

Lancer pats him again, then stands. "Don't let me keep you. I'm sure, as you students would say, you have to get vibing."

Danny grimaces. "We really wouldn't."

Dismissed, he gathers up his backpack and practically sprints to the door, yanking it open. Halfway out, he pauses, looking back over his shoulder. Lancer is back at his desk already, resuming his grading.

"Thanks, Mr. Lancer," Danny says. "You're not really 'hip', but... you are kind of cool."

He runs out of the room before Lancer can respond. Lips pressed in a firm line, he contemplates whether today was good or bad after all. A+ on his essay? Good. Getting praised in front of the class? It sounded good, but it felt bad and it was awkward as hell. Tucker eating all his gummy bears? Definitely bad.

The talk he just had with Lancer? Debatable.

Danny rounds the corner, heading for the front doors, and almost barrels right into Dash. He swerves at the last second—thank you reflexes—and skitters out of Dash's way.

"Watch it, Fenfreak," Dash says.

Danny rolls his eyes. "You get more creative every day, Dash. Why are you even still here?"

"Practice tonight, duh," Dash says.

Right. Danny gives Dash a critical look. "Going to your locker?" he asks.

"My stuff's already in the gym, dweeb. Why do you care?"

"I just thought I saw Paulina put some in there early. Could have been a love letter or something." Danny shrugs.

An eager gleam enters Dash's eye. Danny almost feels sorry for the poor guy. He's probably the only person who can't tell Paulina is hopelessly in love with Star. Why else would Paulina say she can't date any boys because she's saving herself for the ghost boy? Seriously.

Dash runs for his locker, yanking it open. As a resounding bang echoes down the hall and green go splatters all over the walls, floor, ceiling, and Dash, Danny finally makes up his mind. Today is a very good day.

[ayamari-no-goshi]

Verboten 2 | (T)

ff.net | AO3

Fandom: Danny Phantom (DP)

Summary:   AU. When Danny was five years old, he went missing for 2 weeks. In the years that follow, his family tried to make sense of what happened, only for the truth to be discovered years later.

Warnings: rated T for violence, mentions of death, language. Be prepared for some very weird things

Parings: Danny/Sam

Notes: originally uploaded to Ff.net. Cross-posted to AO3 and tumblr. This fic is very heavily inspired by folklore surrounding mysterious wilderness disappearances

Chapter 2

“I’m honestly surprised your parents allowed you on this trip, Danny,” his friend Sam mentioned as they and their other friend, Tucker, packed their bags onto the bus.

The now seventeen year old Danny shrugged as he focused on trying to make sure his bag wouldn’t be squished in the luggage compartment of the bus during the trip. He brought a foldable telescope with him in case he had a chance to stargaze, and he didn’t want it to get broken.

His school, Casper High, had some sort of deal with one of the local National Parks. The school was allowed to camp at the park at a reduced rate as long as the students helped the Forest Rangers with some minor tasks. Both parties considered it a win-win situation as the Park Service received some extra hands, and the school was able to pride itself on the survival and conservational experiences its students received. Technically, the trip was voluntary for seniors, but the teachers indirectly pressured the students to participate.

“To be honest, I’m more surprised they convinced Tucker to go,” Danny eventually replied after he was satisfied with the location of his bag.

“You’re telling me!” Tucker whined as he waited for his two friends while he fiddled with his PDA. “My mother actually threatened to stop making her meatloaf for me if I didn’t go! They said, “It would be good for me”. Can you believe that?”

“I think a little bit of hiking do you some good.” Sam poked him in the stomach for emphasis.

As Tucker shouted in protest, Danny and Sam exchanged a glance. Tucker did not like the outdoors, and he was very vocal about it. His world primary consisted of technology, and while it was amazing what he could do with his handheld and twenty minutes, his physical prowess was lacking.

“But seriously, Danny,” Tucker injected after he finally fended off Sam, “how did you convince your parents to let you come?”

Danny shrugged as he headed towards the door of the bus. Shouts from the teachers made it clear they would be boarding soon. “It seems like the school board managed to somehow convince them. All I know is that they had a meeting with them to raise concerns and to tell them I wasn’t going to go, but they came back stating it was fine. It must have been one heck of a persuasive argument.”

“That’s because my mother was involved.” The boys glanced over to see Sam angrily kick a rock out of the way. Her parents were often a taboo topic. “I thought I told you she was on the school board. I don’t know the full details of it, but I know she was preparing counterarguments to objections.”

“I’m honestly surprised your parents are so gung ho about this trip. You’d think they’d consider camping beneath them.”

“It’s because of the prestige. They can brag that their daughter and their daughter’s school has ties to a government agency.”

While Danny raised an eyebrow, he admitted it seemed petty enough of a reason. Sam’s parents were very wealthy and liked to show off their wealth, much to their daughter’s dismay. They often argued with her regarding her appearance, music tastes, friends, after school activities, and other issues as they believed their daughter’s choices reflected poorly on them. However, they were usually fine with their daughter’s activism regarding conservation and animal rights as long as she didn’t go too far with it, such as the time she tried to stage a break out at the local zoo.

Their conversation ended as the boarding began. The three somehow managed to get the back of the bus, which allowed them to continue to talk without interruption. Most of the other students tended to avoid their group. They didn’t know why until one of the band members, Mikey, once asked Tucker how he put up with being so close to Danny. Confused, Tucker asked him to elaborate.

According to Mikey, a lot of the other students felt unnerved by Danny. As polite and quiet as he tended to be, there was something odd about him that no one was directly able to pinpoint. Mikey said he thought it could have been his eyes, citing how at times it almost seemed like Danny saw the world in a slightly different way than the rest of them. Tucker just laughed it off and explained that Danny had a traumatic event as a child so he often seemed unusually reserved. Mikey seemed to accept that answer, and afterwards, at least some of the students involved with the band were more open towards Danny.

The Fentons moved to Amity Park two years after Danny’s disappearance, so the majority of the student body was unaware of the event. If he was honest, Danny would never have told Sam and Tucker what happened, but his parents’ eccentricities forced the issue.

When his parent’s found out about Sam’s activism the first time she and Tucker visited their house, they made her swear she would not take their son into the woods with her. When he was finally allowed to take them to his room after Sam promised she wouldn’t, he hesitantly explained why they were so intense. His friends were very understanding, though they were just as puzzled about the entire thing as he was. Tucker even offered to hack into the old case file if Danny ever decided to look into it.

Sam did mention that it did help explain why they sometimes caught him staring off into space. She figured he was probably traumatized by something he couldn’t quite remember. Danny mentioned his sister once told him something similar, but he honestly didn’t remember anything that happened.

What he never admitted to his friends was that he knew why he sometimes seemed distant. Ever since his disappearance, he sometimes saw figures out of the corner of his periphery. Usually, he thought it was another person, but when he tried to check, whatever it was had disappeared. More recently, however, the figures seemed to let him glimpse them for a second or two. He could never make out anything other than the vague shape as a person. Since no one else seemed to notice them, he figured it was some weird sort of paranoia due to a repressed memory.

….

About a half hour after they left, Danny received a voicemail from his parents. He had forgotten he had put it on silent, but there was no way he could call them back while he was on the bus since Mr. Lancer was the chaperone for his bus, and that man was a stickler for the rules. Instead, he made a mental note to call them back as soon as he had permission as he clicked the play button.

His mother’s voice sounded absolutely frantic. “Daniel, you call me as soon as you get this! I don’t know what came over us, but we never should have let you go without some sort of protection. I should have never have let you go. If the teachers won’t let you call us, jest remember to never be the last or first in line, and never, under any circumstances, go anywhere alone. And, this is important Danny, if anyone you don’t know offers you food, don’t take it.” His dad could faintly be heard in the background talking about some sort of weaponry he made.

“And here I thought only my mom could sound like that. What was that about?” Sam asked. Her raised eyebrow told him she wasn’t going to let it drop until he had an answer.

“I think my parents finally realized I was going into the woods,” he replied as he put his phone away.

“I thought you said they were fine with you going,” Tucker chimed in while he rummaged through his back for a snack.

Danny didn’t immediately answer. He glanced away for a moment before finally he decided to open up about something which had been bugging him. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but my parents almost seemed like they were in a daze after that school meeting. They were so adamant I was not going to be allowed to go on that trip, and then they just changed their minds and stopped voicing their concerns. It was so weird that I actually called Jazz.”

It was true. He had called his sister at collage because of how out of character it was. While Jazz understood his concern, she reassured him one of the teachers or other parents managed to ease their concerns, and/or they realized some of their worries were silly and unfounded. He tried to tell her there was something more to it as she couldn’t physically see how off they were, but she just told him he was being paranoid and to enjoy himself.

Tucker whistled. “It must have been weird for you to do that.” Both Sam and Tucker knew full well how Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton tended to overanalyze almost everything. As a result, Danny often tried to avoid asking her questions regarding why a person would act in a certain way. The resulting explanation was often too lengthy to be interesting.

“As weird as that is, do you really think anyone in Amity would do something like drug or hypnotize your parents?” Sam argued.

“I… I don’t really know. Look, I never told you guys this,” Danny sighed as he steeled himself, “but, there has been a second incident prior to us moving. Our old house had a wooded area behind it. It wasn’t dense or anything, and you could see in it for like a half mile… but, according to my parents, and Jazz confirmed it, I went missing again for several hours in those woods. I don’t remember saying this, but they said I mentioned something about my playmate from the forest in Arkansas payed me a visit. There’s been an unspoken worry that this guy is following us for some reason.”

Neither of his friends said anything for a while until Sam spoke up. “That’s really messed up, but do you really think that’s the case? How would this person be able to find you? Do you even know what he or she looks like?”

He shook his head. “You know my parents are big names in fringe science. It’s possible he found us that way. I know that it’s really unlikely… It… It’s just… it was too weird, you know? With how my parents go on and on about other dimensions and being spirited away, them just suddenly changing their minds went against everything they believe.”

“Don’t worry, Danny. You’re with us and a bunch of other students. We’ll keep an eye on you.”

“And if something does happen, Sam can chase off the bad guy with those boots of hers. Ow!” Tucker glared at Sam as he rubbed his shin. “That was a compliment.”

She just snickered which caused the two to start bickering. The familiarity of it helped ease some of Danny’s worries. He knew he was just being paranoid, and that it was very unlikely anyone did something to his parents. It was just that he couldn’t shake off his uneasy feeling.

….

Their camp ground was in the Cuyahoga Valley region which was on the outskirts of the Allegheny plateau. The hills in the area were rolling due to the plateau and ancient glacial activity, but they were nowhere near as large as the ones found closer to the mountains in the next state over. Like many forests in the plateau, it was surprisingly old and dense.

Danny was unsettled by it. The hardwood trees blocked out a large percentage of the sun which cast permanent shadows on the area. Not only was it unlikely he would be able to stargaze, he kept thinking he saw something peek out from behind the trees. Chalking it up to paranoia, he decided to focus on the interior of the bus until they reached their destination. He didn’t need to freak out this early in the trip.

Due to the amount of students, the school split them into groups of about thirty and split them around the park. His group was sent to a series of cabins near one of the ranger stations. There were five or six assigned to each cabin. Thankfully for Danny, Tucker was also assigned to the same cabin.

After Mr. Lancer told them some general rules, they were told they had an hour to settle in before they would met up for lunch. The unpacking was fairly uneventful, though Danny was dismayed to learn some of the football players would be in his cabin. Most of them tended to leave him alone, but the one, Dash, liked to bully him. It was strange since he was the only person aside from Sam and Tucker who would come anywhere near him. Thankfully, other than a warning to keep his weirdness to himself, the football players decided to ignore him and Tucker.

He unpacked fairly quickly, so he decided he had enough time to try to contact his parents. Stepping outside, he tried to make a phone call. Someone picked up on the other end, but the signal must have been poor as the call was extremely choppy. After several minutes of trying to figure out what she was saying, he told her he would ask the Rangers if they had a land line he’d be able to use before he ended the call. He frowned as he checked the bars on his phone. There signal was strong enough that the call shouldn’t have been that choppy, but it was a cheaper phone since he had a bad habit of breaking them, so that could have been the reason.

They ate lunch at a mess hall in the camp complex. It was a fairly modest meal, but the beef and gravy was surprisingly good. Danny mused it was probably because his parents often experimented with cooking which often created strange results. He was also surprised that there was a vegetarian option available for Sam, but the school must have called ahead to let them know.

When they were finishing up, Mr. Lancer announced that one of the Rangers had an announcement. Danny glanced over to see a stern man, possibly in his late thirties, move towards the front of the room. He was fit and weathered, but every once in a while, there was a haunted look in his eyes.

The ranger, Rusty, gave the group a rundown of the general rules. He then paused for a moment before he spoke again. “This is unprecedented, but we are going to need your help for a search for a missing person.” Murmurs of excitement ran through the students. “This is a serious matter, and I request you pay attention. We have our search and rescue people and volunteers out right now looking for a twenty-two year old male. He is Caucasian and was last seen in a red jacket and blue jeans. He goes by Aiden.”

“Because you are not properly trained,” Rusty continued, “I only ask that you walk along the nearby trails for a couple hours in groups of two or more. Each group will be given a walkie-talkie. If you see or hear anything strange, call it into us. Don’t go off the trails. We don’t need more people getting lost today.” He fell silent and seemed to argue with himself for a moment before adding, “If you hear what sounds like screaming, particularly a woman screaming, call it in immediately. Large cats sometimes make that kind of sounds, and we definitely have Bobcats around. Luckily, they tend to avoid people, but we do like to know when we have signs of them.”

Twenty minutes later, the teens separated into their groups. Each group was provided a map, compass, and walkie-talkie. Rusty took them to a large map posted outside the Ranger station and explained a little about the area. The trails he wanted them to take circled the surrounding area and were well marked. Before he let them go, he again warned them to report anything off, but did try to reassure them by letting them know other rangers would be regularly sweeping the area.

“Well, isn’t this a reassuring start to our trip,” Tucker sarcastically mentioned as he tried to figure out the map.

“It can’t be helped,” Sam told him as she ripped the map out of his hands and corrected it before handing it back to him. “They must be desperate if they’re asking students to help.”

“Hey, I’m not used to replying on handheld maps.”

“You could try bringing it up on GPS,” Danny mentioned as they headed towards the one trail.

“That’s a great idea!” Tucker fiddled with his PDA for a moment before turning back to his friend. “Are you okay, dude? You sound a little off.”

“Oh, I guess this would hit a little too close to home,” Sam mentioned as she examined his expression.

Danny sighed as he glanced away from her. “Kind of. Even though I don’t remember it, I was in this exact same situation before. I hope they find the guy, at least for his family’s sake.”

The trio fell silent as they began their walk on one of the easy trails. They didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, though Tucker complained starting about halfway through the hike. Sam tried to distract them by identifying some of the local flora, but it only worked for so long.

By the time they made it back to camp, it was almost dinner time. Danny was glad to be back around the group. Although he never mentioned anything to his friends, he felt as if he was being watched the entire time. The trees seemed oppressive at times, and he was honestly surprised he didn’t have a panic attack while they were on the trail.

After dinner, he asked Rusty if there was a phone he would be able to use. Rusty told him that he would have to wait until the morning because they needed the line for the search. Danny understood and thanked the man.

Before he had a chance to head back to his cabin, Rusty called out to him, “While you’re here, make sure you never go off on your own.”

“I know. I mean, my parents drilled that into me for years,” Danny admitted with a shrug.

Rusty examined him closely before stepping closer and whispering, “You’ve witnessed something strange in the past. I can tell by the look in your eyes and how tense you are. In any heavily wooded area, the more open you are to the unusual, the more likely it might show up again.” He walked off without another word. Unnerved, Danny returned to his cabin and waited for his friend.

Tucker still wanted to complain about the amount of walking they did when he returned to the room, which prompted a discussion regarding how in the world Sam was able to enjoy things like that. Danny was about to bring up what the ranger told him when the football players burst into the room. Normally, Danny would just ignore them, but this time, he was intrigued by their excited whispers.

“Hey dweebs,” Dash addressed them, much to Danny and Tucker’s surprise, “did you hear what happened?” An evil grin appeared on his face when they told him they didn’t. “Kwan overheard the rangers talking earlier. You know that guy they were looking for?”

“Yeah,” Danny answered, “Did they find him?”

“Yeah, but he wasn’t alive.”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me. They’re saying he’s dead.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- End of chapter notes :

The Cuyahoga (Ky-ah-HOE-ga) Valley is a real place. I chose it for some very specific reasons. 1) The forests in that area are extremely large 2) I’m fairly familiar with the landscape and weather as I grew up in another part of the Allegheny plateau 3) The parks in that area are a bit unusual as you have a mix of privately owned and government owned areas which I’m using to my design as there’s more leeway with what they can and can’t build in those areas 4) some old towns have been “swallowed” by the national park including one famous “helltown”

The Allegheny (Al-ah-gain-ie) plateau is one part of the Appalachian Mountains, which are said to be the oldest mountains in the world. You don’t really have the high peaks or rock terrain associated with other ranges since they’re so worn, but there are a lot of hills, valleys, creeks, and streams. There are also a lot of coal mines since it’s a coal rich area. What’s also very strange about the plateau is that you can be in a town or suburbs, but within 15-20 minutes, you can be on the outskirts of a deep forest. There are also some swamps and marshy areas within the plateau as well.

Also, a lot of the names for natural landmarks in the Allegheny plateau originate from the tribes who originally settled there. There are even some burial mounds in the Cuyahoga area.

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

For the Love of Shell - Chap 42

Next chappie for those who are reading this!

Here it is from the beginning for those who want to start! Filled with smut my loves

Chapter Forty Two – Betrayal of the Son

By now the palace was now overrun with guards searching for the Daimyo. The sound of the clanging metal of their armor was almost deafening. It had taken Ue-Sama far too long to order the palace searched for Aurora’s liking. Since she had shown up at the palace this morning Ue-Sama had been acting very bizarre. Particularly the kiss he forced onto her after the tournament. He was planning something, she could tell and now with the Daimyo’s disappearance it seemed to solidify her speculation. Now Mikey, Donnie and herself were slipping silently through the palace on their own mission, one being done under Ue-Sama’s nose.  

There was no sign of Ue-Sama when they pasted the dining room on their way to the lower levels. It was still in disarray with a few servants trying to clean up the damage. There was a knot forming in her stomach, she did not like this one bit. With the door to the basement in sight Donnie hurried forward and brought his giggles down over his eyes. His hand shot up and waved back signaling them of guards coming up the stairs. The three disappeared easily into the shadows waiting for their opening. With a loud clamor five more guards barreled up the stairs heading to the main hallway. Slipping silently down the poorly lit staircase to the basement and the dungeons, she noticed Mikey and Donnie staying close to her keeping her between them as they descended. They stopped at the first level scattering to cover more ground faster.

“Be careful, yell for us if you find anything or need help.” Donnie gazed down at her with a worried look while his large three fingered hand rested on her lower back.

“Will do.” With a half hearted smile she nodded to the two turtle brothers and ran in the opposite direction in search of any clue of the disappearance of the Daimyo and Splinter.

~~~~~~~~~~

Master Splinter groaned in discomfort as he came too. His skull felt like someone had cracked it open with a sledgehammer. He needed to rub his temples to release some of the pressure but found his arms immobile. In fact when he finally opened his eyes he found he was hanging from a brick wall in a dimly lit room by his wrists that were stretched painfully tight on either side of him. Due to the lack of height he was hanging suspended off the ground. His weight was pulling at his old limbs making the predicament even more excruciating.

A soft cough next to him alerted the old rat he wasn’t alone in his dilemma and his mind went to his dinner companion and the series of events that lead them to this dark musty room. They had been enjoying each other’s company about to start dinner when he tasted something foreign in his soup, something that wasn’t supposed to be there. Dropping his spoon his hands thrust forward disengaging the spoon from his friend’s hand toppling the bowl of soup with it.

Before he would warn the Daimyo about the unknown substance in their food they were attacked. Dark shadowy figured came from everywhere and converged in on them showing no mercy. They fought them as best they could but in the end there was too many and were knocked unconscious. Now in the present they found themselves at the mercy yet again of their captors.

“Splinter?” the groggy voice of the Daimyo hit his fury ears.

“Yes, my old friend I am here with you. It looks like we have found ourselves in quiet a predicament. I wonder who our host is?”

As if on cue a large hooded figure emerged from the shadows with bright red eyes glowing under the heavy hood.

“Who are you? Why have you done this?” The Daimyo scowled yanking on his confines. “Release us at once!”

Rough as gravel, a deep twisted laugh rumbled from the mysterious cloaked figure. The movements so smooth it seemed their captor floated across the room on air, stopping a few inches from the old rat. Two large scaled hands emerged from the large sleeves pushing back the hood.

“Draco!” Splinter hissed through clenched teeth.

“Yes you sniveling rat! How long I’ve waited for my revenge against you and this old fool. Years of planning and now my patience will be rewarded. I will take from you what you love the most in this life and rip ripe apart your son’s bodies using their bloody hollow shells as foot rests. And then after I’ve shown you their mutilated carcasses I will end you!” the red dragon spat at Splinter, his face mere inches from his.

The usual gentle features of the old ninjutsu master hardened and an ominous growl rolled from his lips, “You will not touch my sons.”

“Oh on the contrary you old fool, as we speak they are scattered around the grounds looking for you, two with that little bitch the young daimyo has his sights set on and your two eldest heading to the falls and right into my trap. I have several of my shadow minions at my disposal all ready to attack and dismember each and every one of your sons.”

“What of the woman?” the Daimyo quickly cut in, trying to pry a little more information out of Draco. “And why do you call my son young Daimyo?”

The dragons head snapped to the old man hanging from the wall just next to the giant rat, “Your son seems to have plans for her. He talks about some sort of power that she possesses that could help him. He covets your throne old man hoping having her at his side will solidify his place upon it. Either way it doesn’t matter. I will have my revenge then that brat can have his kingdom.”

The Daimyo’s eyes widened in shock, letting the dragon’s words roll over him. Again his wrists pulled at the metal shackles holding him to the wall. “M-my son……. Is behind this? How can that be?” the sorrow apparent in the old man’s voice trying desperately to hold onto the hope Draco was lying.  

“Your son is an idiot; he couldn’t orchestrate this by himself. He is an overgrown child throwing a tantrum that he can’t have the throne right now. The woman is something new though, he fell for her a year ago when she quiet literally fell into your laps. But there is no way she would be persuaded to go along with his plans; she’s too smart for his games and won’t do anything to hurt you. He just refuses to see it. So she will need to be eliminated as well. Which is a shame really, someone with powers would be convenient to have on my side. The idiot already tried wooing her by kissing her after the tournament today but she rejected him. He’s too blind to see she only has eyes for his son, the one in blue, Leonardo is it?” Draco’s red eyes shifted to Splinter. “But that is neither here nor there now and makes no difference. None of them will survive this. I need your son compliant so a strong headed woman is out of the picture.”

“They will find us and foil your plans. You will not succeed.” Splinter smiled; with Aurora at his son’s sides once again they would defeat Draco and Ue-Sama. He was sure of it.

“We will find out now won’t we, because the party is about to begin.”  

~~~~~~~~~

Aurora turned down another hallway searching the final group of rooms coming up with nothing, yet again. Each room she had checked her fingers skimmed over every nook and cranny for any hint of a hidden door. Someplace someone could hide two unwilling victims. Finishing with the last room she headed back to the stairs to meet up with Mikey and Donnie.

With her mind spinning with worry she didn’t hear the shadow ninja creep up behind her. By the time she sensed it’s presences it was too late. A hand reached out grasping her long hair pulling her back and down to the ground. Her shriek of surprise echoed through the halls reaching the sensitive ears of Donnie and Mikey but unfortunately they too were in their own battle for their lives. Surrounded by several dark shadowy ninjas Donnie reached for his com calling for his older brothers.

“Don?” the familiar calm voice of their leader came over the speaker on his shoulder.

“Leo we’ve been ambushed in the bowels of the palace. We need back up.” Donnie called into his com anxiously blocking a blow with his bo staff. “They came out of nowhere and have no faces! They look like shadows!”

Knee deep in the falls high above the palace Leo and Raph stopped in their tracks listening to their genius brother in distress. They had come up empty, no tracks or any kind of clues to the whereabouts of Master Splinter and the Daimyo, when Donatello’s frantic call came over their coms.

“Donnie are you alright? Where is Mikey and Aurora? Are they with you?”

After a few seconds Donatello came back over the com, his labored breath telling them it was imperative they hurry. “Mikey is just outside in the hallway with his own party of ninjas. And I don’t know where Aurora is but we did hear her scream a few minutes ago. We can’t get to her! Mikey!!!” then the com went eerily silent.

“Don! Donnie! Are you there?! Donatello!!” Leo felt his heart jump into his throat and looked to Raph with terror in his eyes. They were in trouble and needed their help.  

Raph heard the fear in his brother’s voice making the already burning rage inside him increase to an uncontainable inferno. The grips on his sai tightened and he caught his brother’s eyes that held the same wild fury. Someone had kidnapped their father and now were attacking their two younger brothers and Aurora. But then like a light switch Leo’s demeanor changed and lunged forward tackling his larger brother into the water.

Bursting from the surface Raph tried pushing Leo from him, “What the shell Le…..oh!” his eyes immediately narrowed in on the kunai now rooted deep into the top of Leonardo’s shell. Leo had just saved his life for the thousandth time. Reaching up he pulled the offending item from his brother’s shell and they both scrambled to their feet pulling their weapons out. Just like Donnie had described them, they looked on in shock at the weird shadow figures surrounding them. There had to be at least 40 of them closing in on them fast and it didn’t seem like they wanted to play nice.  

“Shell, looks like they’re not getting the back they need.” Leo growled readying his katana.

Raphael readied himself as three of the figures launched themselves at him bringing down their weapons on his waiting sai. With a grunt he took the brunt of the force faltering on the slimy rocks below the surface of the water.  “Looks like we might need that back up now.”

Reeling back Donnie swung his electrified bo staff forward connecting with two of the ninjas sending them flailing against the wall disintegrating like a puff of cigarette smoke in the wind. The last of his attackers were beside him but with expert balance his long leg shot up colliding with its head making it explode in a cloud of smoke. Without skipping a beat he headed out to help his little brother who was on the ground holding off three of the shadowy figures with his nunchaku.

“DONNIE?!” they both heard Aurora shriek from farther away then they’d like.

Mikey’s gaze snapped to Donnie and they both took action. With a swift kick of his legs Mikey sent the three assailants over his body crumbling to the ground. With the momentum of his legs coming down and his pelvis rolling up into the swing he was on his feet. Then Mikey and Donnie took care of the rest of the dark ninjas with a swift determination to get to their friend in trouble.

Taking off towards the sound of Aurora’s worried cry, they hurried through the halls in search of her. They could hear sounds of metal on metal and exasperated grunts from beyond the bend. Before they rounded the corner two of the shadowy ninjas came sailing out into view colliding with the wall. Taking the corner, they saw her pressed against the wall, eight figures on her ready to drive a tanto blade through her heart.

“A little help guys!” she cried out ripping a hand from one of the them punching it in the face.

They were on them in a second ripping Aurora’s attackers from her body one by one. Mikey lurched forward grabbing the blade poised for her heart and threw it down the empty hallway, the sound of the metal clanging across the ground echoed in the large halls.

Aurora took advantage of the distraction and placed her feet on the wall and pushed forward taking three of the ninjas with her. The back of their heads slammed into the hard surface of the wall behind them making them disappear beneath her momentum. She caught herself before she fell to the floor getting her feet under her. “They’re skilled but break easily. I’ve never seen anything like them; it was like I was fighting shadows of smoke. What the hell are these things?” Aurora groaned picking up her blades taking care of another ninja.

Donnie electrocuted the last one ending their current fight. Mikey went to Aurora making sure she was alright. His eyes moved over her body assessing damages, touching and pushing at her skin.

Her fingers found his quickly easing his overzealous attention to a halt. “I’m fine Mikey.” Aurora tried her best not to be too cold with the two brothers but didn’t want to act like them being together in this moment felt right. She couldn’t let herself get used to their presences; this was a temporary mission to save the Daimyo and Master Splinter. After this was over Leo would no doubt end this as well.

“They put up quite a fight, we must be getting close.” Donnie calmly stated using his goggles to scan for heat signatures on the level they were still on.

“Agreed, let’s move to the lower level.” Aurora moved around Mikey who was still looking at her hopeful. His baby blues tore at her soul, she wanted to tell him all would be alright but time was of the essence and they needed to move.

The three of them descended to the lowest level of the palace, this time sticking together. The silence that hung around the dungeon was a bit unsettling. No guards what so ever nor any prisoners. The uneasy feeling within each of them grew. This was too easy.

“Shell!” Donnie broke the eerie calm. “I called Leo for back up a while ago; he should have been here by now.” His fingers flew to his com calling for his older brother. No response came so Donnie called again this time for Raphael. Still nothing, a deafening silence that made the already chilly dungeon seem suddenly colder. “I don’t like this.”

~~~~~~~~~

Draco landed another blow to Splinters jaw continuing his unrelenting assault on the old rat. With each strike the metal chains moaned from the sudden movement of the body it held. Blood was running down the dark fur of the old sensei’s mouth but showed no sign of discomfort.  The Daimyo beside him pleaded with the large dragon to stop his assault but if fell on deaf ears as another hit connected with Splinters gut.

Without warning several dark cloaked ninjas appeared behind the angry dragon. His attacks ended as one whispered in his ear. The smug smile slipped from his face into a frustrated scowl.

“They’re down here already?! They took out how many of you? SIMPILTONS!! Yes, send more to stop them! I can’t have them ending this plan just as it begins!” as quickly as they came the ninjas vanished into the shadows leaving the dragon with his two helpless prisoners. Reaching to the wall he grabbed the cloak he had removed when he started his assault on Master Splinter and swung it back around his shoulders lifting the hood to conceal his face once more. “You’re lucky I have other things to attend too you old fools, but I will be back to finish this. I have some turtle flesh to filet.” His wicked eyes flashed and retreated out the hidden door in the wall leaving them alone.

“My friend! Are you alright?” the daimyo immediately called to his battered friend. A soft cough alerted him to fact the old rat was still in fact breathing. The chains creaked when Splinter shifted uncomfortably spitting out a mouthful of blood.  

“Am I my friend, a little worse for wear but I am alive. Do not worry my sons will free us, they will stop this madness.”

“They have too.” The daimyo started. “If they try and use the war staff without proper training they will bring upon destruction to this dimension and all who reside here.”    

~~~~~~~~~~

The pull for air made his lungs burn as Leo fought the many hands that held his body submerged under the current of the river feeding the massive waterfall several feet down stream. There was far too many of these shadow ninjas for Raph and himself to defeat. They seemed to come out of nowhere like the never ending flow of water they fought in.  

It had been almost an hour since Donnie had called them for help and they were ambushed on top of the waterfall. He hoped all three of them were alright. They had to be, he didn’t know what he would do if he lost his two younger brothers and Aurora. But the way things were looking they might lose him, there were so many on top of him keeping his head below the water drowning him. The strength was leaving him as the lack of oxygen to his brain began to affect his dexterity, he was losing this fight.

~~~~~~

Aurora could feel it, something was horribly wrong. More wrong then what was happening in the dungeon with Donnie, Mikey and herself fighting off an infinite flow of these damn ninja. Every cell in her body was on alert, something else was happening, something was happening to Leonardo and Raphael.

“Guys!” she screamed over the thunder of clanging metal and grunts. “We have to get to Leo and Raph! Something’s wrong!” Blocking another tirade of attacks Aurora flipped up landing just behind the shadows slicing through them with her katana.  

As Donnie fought his goggles scanned the walls for false walls and air drafts. They had to be down here judging by the massive assault they were receiving. Then something flashed in his goggles when he turned to deliver a shock from his bo staff. Quickly turning back he saw two warm bodies behind the wall, a large form and a smaller one hanging midair.

“There!” Donnie screamed pointing to the small wall just a few feet from where Aurora was.

Immediately Aurora sprang for the wall feeling with her hands for anything to open the hidden door all the while keeping the growing mass of ninjas as bay.  Out the corner of her eye she saw the blade gliding through the air aimed for her throat, determined to hit it’s mark with extreme prejudice. Before it could find its target the hilt of Mikey’s nunchaku stopped its momentum pushing back the assailant.

“I got your back angel cakes!” the orange banded turtle smiled at her while taking down anther ninja with his band hands.

The battle in the dingy basement was deafening, she couldn’t hear herself think. A shove behind her sent her sprawling against the cold brink of the wall she was searching. But with a stroke of luck the hit brought her fingers in contact for the latch for the door making the brick door shift open revealing the entrance to the hidden cell.

The heavy scrapping of the brick door opening brought the Daimyo’s and Spinsters eyes to the entrance of their confinement.  Expecting the tall hooded dragon to appear they were surprised by two spinning blades followed by Aurora as she fought her way in.

Her eyes snapped to the old men hanging on the wall. The state Master Splinter was in sent her blood boiling. Battered and broke he was bleeding from several parts of his old furry body; someone had worked him over pretty good. Thankfully the Daimyo looked unharmed for the most part besides a busted lip and his white hair askew. “Donnie! Mikey!” she bellowed ending the five ninja currently before her. Whoever had hurt Master Splinter would pay, would pay dearly.

@imthegreenfairy88​ @bluesakurablossom​ @ravn-87​ @alonia143​ @tmnt-bucklover​

[thousandfourhundreddays]

Yours For Tonight. Pt 2

Michael Gray x Reader

Part One

A/n: Requested by @namelesslosers , “Part two please! This is amazing, Maybe one where he's already with Gina and the reader comes back to Small Heat? They never stopped loving each other and yeah... Anyway, tag me if you do please?”

The Morning After

“I couldn’t face saying goodbye for the last time, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I have to leave and I’m sorry that we can’t spend the rest of our lives together. I know I promised we would. I’ll never forget you Michael, the love that you showed me was possible, and I’ll forever be thankful for that. I’ll love you always, y/n”

That was the note you left for Michael the morning you left, taking one last look back at his sleeping figure before you gently closed his bedroom door, sneaking down the staircase and onto the cold, harsh cobbles of the street outside, ready to begin your new life in France with your boyfriend. Well... as ready as you would ever be.

Three Years Later

The sharp wind whipped around your as you stepped out of your taxi, taking a long, deep breath whilst you stood taking in your surroundings, the sleek black car vanishing back down the street. A small smile spread across your face as you saw the familiar blackish grey terrace houses that held so many memories. The dull, cold cobbles of the roads which ironically brought you so much warmth and comfort.

You were home... you were in Small Heath.

With no plans of where you’d live, or work, however truthfully, your husbands job left you quite well off so for now you could easily pay for a hotel for however long it took for you to find a house, you found yourself heading to the garrison.

As soon as you made your way through the sparkling golden doors, you caught eyes with Harry, his face lighting up with surprise. You sat and chatted for a good hour or so as he served the men in the pub, this is where you learned that Tommy had bought the pub not long after you left, explaining the glamorous new design. Sparking the topic of the Peaky Blinders, him raving about how well they were all doing which lead to you subtly asking how “Pollys son, that new lad Michael” was doing, which was how you were told he had moved to America on business for a while before moving back a few months later. The topic didn’t last long, you not wanting to seem suspicious so you let Harry briefly fill you in on how your mutual friends were doing.

After a short while, a few familiar faces, mostly friends from school and thier boyfriends and husband made their way into the pub as the day shifted into the evening. The garrison grew busier with time whilst you were bombarded with questions about your life over the past three years, the contry, the food, the people. You almost didn’t notice the door fly open and the faces of Tommy Shelby and Polly Gray appear in the doorway. You breathed a sigh of relief when they turned to make thier way into the back room.

That was until the door creaked opens once again, revealing the face of the man you once, a almost definitely still do love. Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, placing a cigarette between his lips and raising a match to light it. He lifted his eyes whilst tucking the match box back into his trouser pocket, scanning the room. Your heat skipped a beat as his chestnut brown eyes can’t into line with your y/e/c ones. It felt like the world stopped spinning, his face unreadable as you swallowed the lump in your throat. The buzz of chatter began to ring in your ears, fading into silence. To you, it felt like it was only you and him in the room. A shy, unsure smile flashed across your face, his astonished eyes softening in response.

Suddenly the noise returned to your ears, your heat started to beat and 1000 miles an hour and you watched a woman slip through the crack between the doors, her golden blonde hair glistening in the light. Her painted red lips raising to Michaels ear, whispering something which you couldn’t make out. Her hand making its way upto Michaels neck to get his attention, her burgundy nails gently scratching against his skin. On her finger, a ring.

You forced your eyes away and tears welled in them. Michael snatching his head in the direction of his wife and they also made thier way into the back room.

Your mind was riddled with questions and possibilities. How long had they been married? Did they have children? What was her name? Of corse you knew there was a possibility of seeing him, you weren’t stupid. You for some reason you hadn’t expected this.

You spent the next half an hour or so trying your best to act natural, a few wuenstioning looks were directed at you from your friends, which were returned with you most convincing smile.

Not long after, the Blinders left the back room, Tommy heading to the bar, Polly heading home, leaving Michael and his wife stood talking for a second before she ran to catch up with Polly. He stood searching the room for your face in the crowd of drunken men and tipsy women, after finally spotting you he gave a sly nod in the direction of the door, indicating for you to follow. You waited a minute or two to avoid any suspicion, and to prepare yourself for what was about to happen, before excusing yourself to the toilet and slipping out the out the pub undetected.

The cool air hit you, somewhat refreshing however due to your lack of preparation to be stood out in the cold with your ex lover at this time of night, and therefore your lack of coat, the cold soon hit your bones, causing you to warp your arms around yourself with a shiver.

You searched the darkness for Michael, only spotting him when the glow of a match lit up his face in a discreet ally a few meters away from the entrance of the Garrison. Letting out a shakey breath, your feet subconsciously carried you towards him.

You froze a couple of meters in front of him. You took in his appearance as you stared at one another. His eyes sat above light purple circles, he looked exhausted. His skin a little more wrinkled than when you left, obviously from stress. His hair gelled to the side, much smarter and professional than you ever remembered, must be to cover his tiredness.

“Hey” the simple word snapped you out of your thoughts, bringing your eyes back upto his. They were no longer bright and full of life, they were dull and mysterious.

“Hi” you said, your voice wavering slightly as you let out a breath you didn’t realise you were holding.

He offered you a cigarette which you gladly took, thanking him with a smile as you made your way forward, now standing opposite him.

A few seconds past before he broke the silence.

“How’ve you been?” He said cautiously.

“Not bad, you?”

“Yeah, good, thank you”

You stood in an awkward silence, neither of you knowing how to begin a conversation, or more like not knowing what kind of conversation to start.

Once again, it was Michael who spoke first. “What are you doing here, y/n?”

“Well, Iv got nothing left for me in France, let’s just say that.”

“What about...” he began, about to ask about your boyfriend before his mind assumed the worst. “Is he... ok?”

“He’s fine. Well...” you took a second to think of how to word your sentence. Do you lie? How much should you tell? You gave in, letting out a sigh, you continued “Prison.”

Michael raised his eyebrows in shock, your boyfriend would be the last person anyone would’ve expected to go to prison. A respectable lawyer from an honourable family.

“Yeah” you said, reading his expression. “Money laundering... got three years inside.” You looked down at th ground, for some reason ashamed of your partners illegal antics which you had absolutely no involvement in.

“And you didn’t want to wait for him?”

“Nah” your lifted you head to have another drag of your cigarette, as did Michael.

“You know how I feel about criminals.” You joked with a small smile, you were fully aware of what Michael and his family did for a living, and he knew that. A faint grin flashed across his face, giving you his good old, soft ‘shut up’ face as he let out a soft laugh.

“Didn’t expect that” he said, deciding to state the obvious.

“Yeah well he wasn’t as lucky as you lot, he got caught” Another giggle left his lips, you always knew how to make him laugh, he loved that about you.

“No, but seriously... I just saw my chance and took it, you know how I felt about him, I never wanted to leave. Anyway, here I am.”

He gave you a sympathetic smile, imagining how it felt to have to sail off to a new country, leaving everything you ever knew behind to live with a boyfriend you you’d fell out of love with.

His trail of though was broken. “So, what’ve you been upto?” You said solemnly, leaning back against the cold brick wall, preparing yourself for the conversation surrounding his wife.

Michael inhaled on his cigarette, needing to calm his nerves, he knew you had realised who she was when he walked into the Garrison, you weren’t stupid, he could see it in your eyes.

“She’s my wife.” He stated, knowing you’d catch on to who he was talking about.

“Congratulations” you tried to put on your best fake smile.

“I didn’t think you’d ever come back, y/n, honestly if I had any ide-”

“Michael... dont. You weren’t to know”

He nodded slightly, clearing his throat. “I still love you, you know” his voice was shy, laced with anticipation and somewhat fear.

“Loving each other was never the problem, mikey” you said softly.

���Yeah but now the problems Gina, and I-”

“Gina” you cut him off, reality hitting you now that you learned his wife’s name. He just looked at you, sadness set deep within his eyes.

“I’d do anything for you y/n, anything to have you back” his voice was barely a whisper as he stepped closer to you. His hand cautiously reaching up to cup your face. You leaned into his palm as you eyes glided shut, a tear escaping. “Look at me, please y/n”

You slowly opened you eyes to see Michaels only inches away, now glistening with tears of his own. Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, the connection which you had longed to feel for so many years hit you. The butterflies in your stomach, the slight dizzy ness that only Michael ever made you feel. It was all still there.

Despite your hunger for him, you abruptly broke the kiss, stroking his cheek, trying to hold yourself back. “I can’t do this Michael... your happily married” once again leaning into his touch.

“I’m not happy” he said bluntly, shaking his head as if to convince you.

“She is”

“I’m so sorry y/n, for everything” his voice filled with regret.

“Don’t be, please don’t be... Iv got to go Mikey”

And with that, you smoothly escaped his grasp and made your way out onto the street, the biting wind surrounded you once again.

You heard the faint calls of Michael shouting your name as you forced you self to keep walking. Leaving you both with tear stained faces.

Michael would have to go home to his wife, his mind submerged in thoughts of you whilst you lay in an estranged hotel room, drowning in thoughts on Michael.

PartThree.

A/n: hehehehe I’m actually SO proud of this :) @namelesslosers I hope this is ok!!

Remember my requests are always open!!

Instagram: @peakyblindersengland

Masterlist

Xox

[swampmanstan]

Never (Hanbrough ficlet)

Bill/Mike Word Count: 2053 Rated: G

“Never?” Bill managed somehow to be incredulous but still nonjudgmental, a balancing act most people wouldn’t have been able to accomplish given the circumstances. But most people weren’t William Denbrough. 

“Never,” Mike confirmed, shaking his head. He let Bill ponder the statement a moment as he took another drink. Or began to, at least. “Well, okay, not never ever.” He shrugged, leaning back in the booth. “I’m still human after all, just antisocial.” 

He managed to take a full gulp of beer before he nearly choked on it in his haste to correct himself. “Not that that’s what makes people human! I mean I know there’s people who don’t do that for all kinds of reasons I didn’t mean to say anything rude about them I just-“ he paused to cough hard and painfully into his fist, purposefully ignoring Bill’s snickers from across the table. “I just mean,” he continued once he had his breathing back under control, “that there was never anyone special.” 

Bill hummed in understanding. 

The bar they were in had terrible lighting, every corner either too blinding bright or shrouded in shadows, but it wasn’t in Derry and they were all still alive and Bill was still here and Mike was only two beers in but he couldn’t help but think it was the best place he had ever been. The ancient light hanging over their table had seen better days -probably sometime during the first Bush administration if he had to guess- and at least one of the bulbs in the tiny cluster was burnt out. But Mike could make out every detail of Bill’s face even in the darkest of caverns. 

The last time Mike and Bill had been in the same room before the past week had been when they were 14, before Bill could even begin to consider growing a beard and long before Mike had spent a summer groaning in pain as his growth spurt had decided to hit all at once.

Bill looked so wildly different than the last time Mike had laid eyes on him but so much was the same. The hair was greyer and the stubble was new but it was the same curve of his mouth and the same softness in his eyes. 

He was still cute, a quiet voice in the back of his head told him. It was a voice he hadn’t been willing to accept or understand 27 years ago, and he found that nearly three decades of life experience had only made it louder, if not anymore helpful.

“That’s...surprising.” 

Mike huffed out a laugh. “Yeah? Not exactly easy to start up a relationship when you know there’s a millennia old monster living under the town that you’re just waiting to wake back up again. Couldn't really let anyone know what exactly I was still doing in Derry or they’d’ve locked me up with Bowers.” 

Bill nodded once, eyes on his beer bottle as he idly picked at the label. Mike has gotten a pint, but Bill seemed to always ask for a bottle. He had yet to ask why, but maybe there wasn’t a why. Maybe it was just something Bill did. There were a million things that had happened since they had last been together and Mike wanted to know every single one. Under the table his leg bounced lightly with the effort to hold in a lifetime's worth of questions. 

“I guess that makes sense. I just would have thought you have, what with your-“ Bill lifted one hand to gesture idly at Mikes person.

Mike felt his forehead crease in his confusion. “My what?” 

Bill rolled his eyes as he took another drink, not meeting Mike’s eye when he put it back down again. “Come on, man, don’t fish.” 

Mike raised his eyebrows, unable to stop the bubble of happiness that felt about to burst under skin at their teasing. He had missed all of the Losers, had kept up with all of their lives. But secretly to himself, he could admit he had missed Bill the most. “I’m not fishing, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

Bill shot him a glare that might have been withering had it been from anyone else or had there not been such a pink tint to his face. “I’m sure. Anyway, what’s the plan now. Clown’s dead, Derry’s safe, Stan’s back in Atlanta trying to explain all that to his poor wife, Eddie and Bev are getting divorced and Richie and Ben are following them around like lost puppies, what’s next for Mikey?”

The change in conversation was obvious and jarring but Mike let it rest. “Been thinking about Florida for 27 years man.” He drummed his fingers along the rough edge of the table. “And New Orleans, and the Grand Canyon, and the West Coast and Yellowstone…”

Bill’s laugh was so much deeper than he remembered it, but he was certain he could have picked it out in a crowded room as Bill’s all the same. “Gonna be a busy couple years for you.” 

“It’s been a slow three decades, I’ve got some life to catch up on.”

Bill made a noise of agreement into his beer. Mike knew he wanted to say something more, to apologize for the twentieth time for leaving Mike in Derry, but he had banned them all from that conversation on day one. It was difficult to hold alien induced memory loss against a person. 

“What about you, heading back to LA?” 

Across the booth Bill leaned back, his beer halfway to his mouth but he made no move to bring in closer. He inhaled deep through his nose and then breathed it out for twice as long. “I...don’t know.” 

The silence between them stretched on for a long minute, but Mike had grown very accustomed to silence and didn’t interrupt the intense journey of expressions happening across Bill’s face. “Divorce papers were signed even before I left for Derry. Audra and I split pretty clean, no real fights over anything. Not much left back there for me I guess.” He gave a wry sort of smile that was probably meant to be a lot less sad than it was. “Thank god we didn’t have any kids.” 

Mike hadn’t known Georgie. Had only seen him and Bill a few times in town long before he even knew Bill’s name. He never got to see them interact but he’d heard all the stories from Richie and Stan and Eddie. He’d felt Bill’s devastation. Bill had been meant to be a father. 

“Maybe I’ll just join you on your cross country journey.” 

For the second time that night Mike almost choked on his beer. 

“Oh sh-shit, I’m sorry!” Nearly tipping his own beer over in the process Bill scrambled to grab napkins for Mike. “I was just...that was just a stupid joke, I’m sorry.” His face was turning pink again and his mouth was twisted in an embarrassed sort of grimace as he backtracked. “I wouldn’t just invite myself on your trip that would be so fucking rude I’m just, uh, s-sorry.” 

Mike shook his head with as much dignity as he could muster with the burn of half regurgitated stout burning his lungs. “No, no it’s fine.” He coughed, loud enough that the bored looking bartender shot him a glance. He waved a reassuring hand at her but she didn’t react. “I, uh, if you’re serious-“

“Oh no, that would be so rude-“

“I mean you could-“

“I wouldn’t want to get in your way-“

“I would love to have you come with me!” He said it a little louder than he would have liked, the declaration echoing off the sticky floors and the chipping walls of the bar as Bill blinked at him in surprise. 

Mike swallowed hard, sinking back in the booth and shrugging a shoulder as if that would be enough to offset the enthusiasm of his explosion. “I mean...if you want to.” 

Bill’s eyes were wide and his expression a complicated enough thing that Mike couldn’t make heads or tails of. 

“I...okay.” 

Mike felt his heart give one extra hard thump against his ribs. “Okay?”

Bill was biting the inside of his cheek, eyes narrowed at the table in thought for a moment before he met Mike's eye. “Yeah. Okay. I’m in.” 

It wasn’t the first time Mike had considered leaving Derry. His trip wasn’t as spontaneous as he wanted the others to think. He had been planning it for years in the off chance that he managed to survive the final showdown with Pennywise. Everything had been meticulously planned down to the last detail and he had been imagining his solo trip for almost as long as he had been alone in Derry. But now, now a different picture was coming to mind. Of Bill fighting with the GPS as they made their way down the I95. Of Bill rolling his eyes but not arguing with him as Mike insisted they take a selfie in front of the Statue of Liberty. Bill beside him looking over the rim of the Grand Canyon. Bill with him as they made it to Atlanta to finally meet Patty, the unofficial 8th Loser. 

Maybe they could stay in Stan’s guest room. 

Maybe Stan only had one extra bed. 

Maybe Mike was getting ahead of himself. 

“But you might have to slow down a little if I’m going to come along,” Bill warned him. His smile was soft and fond and Mike felt like his heart was going to escape out his throat. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m not a teenager anymore.”

Mike shifted forward, the booth creaking beneath him as the cracked vinyl shifted. The booth was tiny and when he moved his legs he accidentally brushed his calf against Bill’s as he propped an elbow up on the table and rested his face on his fist. 

“Oh trust me, I’ve noticed.” He hadn’t really meant to say that, the statement intended more as filler than anything else as his brain was still too caught up in the image of Bill being at his side for the foreseeable future after 27 very long years apart. He almost winced at such a stupid line. Of course he’d noticed, everyone had noticed. 

But before he could apologize or say something more clever to distract from his stating of the obvious, it was suddenly Bill who was choking on his drink. Bill doubled half over on his seat, waving a hand at Mike’s attempts to help as he coughed violently into his sleeve. When he resurfaced a minute later his face was a deep and startling red, his eyes darting everywhere and anywhere that wasn’t Mike’s face as he composed himself. Despite his obvious distress there was the workings of a smile at the corner of his mouth, an embarrassed sort of twitch that he seemed unable to control.

“Sorry, yeah, I’m f-fine.” 

Mike offered him another napkin which Bill accepted but didn’t seem to know what to do with. 

Mike could remember Bill standing on the porch of Neibolt and leading them into battle. He could remember him making the lion’s share of the decisions from the start of Losers all the way until the end. He could remember watching every filmed interview he could find of Bill after every book tour he went on. Bill was confident and charismatic and unflappable even in the face of the impossible. 

Through every memory he had he could never remember seeing Bill flustered. 

Mike did his best to hide his growing smile as Bill pulled himself together, but he wasn’t sure how successful he was. It didn’t seem to matter however, because when Bill finally met his eye again he was smiling too. 

Underneath the table their legs were still brushing, and Mike knew he wasn’t imagining it when Bill pushed them a little closer together. 

“I’m still in,” Bill assured him in a conspiring sort of whisper after what might have been an awkward pause had it been anyone else but the two of them.

Mike stopped trying to hide his smile, grinning across the table like he was a teenager all over again about to follow Big Bill to the end of the earth. 

“I can’t wait.”

[skylarmoon71]

Raphael x Reader - Oneshot (TMNT 2014/2016)

"Sup shrimp."

"I'm not a shrimp I'm a grown woman!!" you screamed charging at Raph. He didn't even budge when you ran into him. You on the other hand tumbled to the floor with a grunt. Mikey raised his head when he heard the collision.

"Hey, I think you moved him a little this time (Y/N), good job." he sent you thumbs up, but you just stayed there laying flat on the floor.

You were only fifteen, and since Raph was older, he never failed to remind you of it. Even at your age, you barely look it. You were small, and a bit of a tomboy. It didn't help that you grew up with brothers. Fighting was the way you communicated. That's why you always went at it with Raph. He made it his mission to point out your very boyish qualities. Not that you cared.

"Just wait till puberty hits me, I'll be so gorgeous even the boys at school will have to acknowledge me!" You holler. So maybe your constant fights with Raph weren't solely because you liked roughhousing.

Thing is, you had the biggest crush on him. His attitude, tough personality, and geez those damn muscles. He drove you every type of crazy. That's why you got into it so regular with him. Of course you'd never admit it.

All your teenage mind seemed to process was Feelings+Raph= Punch the shit outta him.

Very mature approach.

"Ya better keep dreaming, you'll be a shrimp no matter how tall ya get." you growled, jumping to your feet as you grabbed his leg.

"Corkscrew!!" you yelled. You tried locking his leg with both of yours to pull him down. It usually worked with your brothers, but you should have known better. Raph just smirked and leaned down, grabbing one of your legs as he lifted you into the air upside down.

"P-Put me down you overgrown tortoise!!" you were struggling and throwing punches at his body, but none of them connected, he was holding you at a distance.

"Maybe if ya nice I'll think bout it." You folded your arms with a glare.

"What, you really think I'm going to beg? Never."

"Is that right?"

"No it's left. Of course it's right! LEO!! Raph is bullying me again!"

Leo sighed, coming around the corner to inspect the damage. "Raph, stop treating her like a rag doll. Put her down."

He huffed, moving to the couch. "Fine." Just like that he opened his palm. You dropped with a soft thud, and Raph snickered under his breath.

"Better?" When you collected yourself, you used the couch to boost you as you jumped unto Raph's back, wrapping your small hands around his neck in an attempted chokehold.

"What do you have to say now big guy! I can take you out in seconds." you pressed into the pressure point on the side of his neck, and he dropped to his knees in surprise.

"Hah, no matter the size, that'll forever be a weak spot." You would know, you used it on your brothers. You were about to deliver another devastating blow. He grabbed your arm before you could do much, pulling you to the ground. When you raised your body to fight back, he just used one hand to push you down by your chest. You blushed at the contact.

"Y-You pervert now you're groping me!!"

He looked unimpressed at your accusation. "Please, ya as flat as a pizza." His statement made your face redder, and you kicked his chest, putting some space between so you could get up.

"STUPID TURTLE!!!"

With that you were running out the lair in a rage. Raph stood slowly, and Leo just shook his head at him.

"You really shouldn't mess with her so much Raph."

"She's the one that came running at me."

"You didn't exactly help the situation."

"Gimme a break." Raph groused. He usually brushed it off when you yelled at him, but this time you looked pretty upset.

Logically, it would have made sense to go after you and apologize, but Raph was never the logical type. So instead he dealt with it the old fashion way.

"I need to punch something." he grumbled, heading for the training area.

Leo just let out another exasperated sigh. He looked over at Mikey, who just lifted his arms shaking his head.

"Don't look at me brah, I'm not getting in the middle of that. " You may have been small, but your temper rivaled Raph's so talking with you while you were pissed wasn't the best thing to do.

~One Week Later~

"Where's (Y/N)." Raph really didn't think you would have stayed away this long. It had only been one week, but it felt like so long since he heard you yelling as you tried to attack him with a new move.

Donnie raised his t-phone from his spot. "She's got exams, I've been sending her information to help in her chemistry class. She said she won't be able to stop by until it's over. Apparently her parents have been getting on her about her grades."

Raph could understand that, what he didn't understand was you messaging Donnie instead of him.

"What's wrong Raphie are you missing your little girlfriend~"

Mikey made a face, mimicking kissy faces and Raph just smacked him.

"Shut up! I ain't missing that shrimp!"

"Fine, no need to get violent." Mikey grumbled, rubbing the back of his head.

"Alright break it up, we got patrol in a few minutes, no fighting." Raph cracked his knuckles. "Great timing." He could use with a little brute force.

~~~

"Damn it this makes no sense!!" You were stressing over your finals, and to make matters worse, you'd just recently gotten your period, so not only was your brain committing suicide, so was your ovaries.

"AHHHH!!!" your oldest brother rushed in at the yell.

"Dude, quit screaming. I thought you were being murdered." you frowned.

"I might as well have been, this shit hurts." He grinned at you.

"My dear little sister, finally becoming a woman. They grow up so fast." He said faking a sob. You just rolled your eyes, throwing a book in his direction.

"Get out of my room before I chug my bloody pad at you." he made a disgusted face.

"I fear for your future boyfriend (Y/N)." you just gave him a look, and in seconds he was rushing out, shutting the door. You dropped your pencil, placing your head on the desk.

"Future boyfriend.."

The first image to pop into your head was Raph, and you blushed, letting out a soft groan of annoyance. What was the use falling for him. He barely even acknowledges you as female. It was so frustrating. Yet, you couldn't stop hoping that he'd somehow just sneak into your room and confess his undying love for you.

It was crazy, impossible. "Dumb hormones." You couldn't believe you'd been in such a rush to go through this, it was hell. What was even worse is your chest had been sore all week. Your mother insisted it was normal, but it didn't feel normal.

"Dumb puberty." you regretted ever wanting to experience it.

~Three Weeks Later~

"Still no word." Donnie shook his head. "She's not in danger, and she texts me, but for some reason she hasn't been down here in awhile."

Leo was never one to act irrational, but now he was getting worried. And Raph was completely stubborn. "Raph, you have to go talk to her. She's obviously still mad about what you said last time. "

"That was weeks ago, and why do I gotta do it! Did ya forget she was the one that came at me."

"You hurt her feelings Raph. You don't tell a girl her chest is flat as a pizza, even if it's true."

"Since when did ya become an expert on women." Leo was about to respond, but a sneaky smile rose on his lips.

"So you do see her as a woman. Hah, I knew you had a thing for her. No wonder you're always messing with her. " Raph couldn't work up a reply so he just growled, turning his back and punching the wall.

"Somehow I feel like they're made for each other. " Leo chuckled. His brother may have been a muscle head, but at least he wasn't blind.

He'd fix the problem eventually. Leo could tell that your absence was starting to get to Raph. It was only a matter of who would make the first move. That might take a while though.

****

It was foolish, you hadn't intended to stay away that long, it's just that so much happened in the span of three weeks. Now you felt way too embarrassed to face Raph due to your most recent development. That didn't stop the guilt though. Because you missed being around the boys. Mikey, Donnie, Leo and especially Raph. You'd just stopped visiting with an explanation. What kind of friend does that? Not a very good one.

"Tomorrow! I go and explain everything." You were tired of hiding out in your room. You didn't want your friendship to suffer because of your stupid hormones.

Clack!

Your head whipped to the window.

"The fudge.."

Under normal circumstances, it was never smart to go towards strange noises. So as you inched out of your bed, you grabbed your baseball bat, moving cautiously to your window.

If some serial killer thought he was getting an easy victim he had another thing coming. You stood at the side, hiding behind the wall as you watched the figure crawl into your room. With a vicious swing, you whacked him right in the face. When you heard a grunt of pain you rushed to your light switch with a grin.

"Take that you stupid serial psycho you really think I was just going to...R-Raph!!"

"What the hell is wrong with ya.." he spoke tightly, he was rubbing his face in irritation. You dropped the bat.

"I-I'm so sorry I thought you were a killer or something. Why didn't you call. You don't just sneak into a girl's room in the middle of the night. "

"I would have called, but ya been avoiding the liar and my messages. Figured I'd come and see why ya acting so weird."

He was right. Suddenly you weren't as sure. Taking a step back, you wrapped your arms around yourself, looking away.

"I-I just..I had exams.."

"Don't gimme that shit, you've been done for a while. Donnie told me."

"Fudge."

You couldn't think of any more excuses that would be half as believable. When Raph saw the way you were guarding yourself and keeping your distance, it sort of hurt him.

He realized then that his words must have done more damage than he thought. He really didn't think you would have taken it to heart. A big part of your friendship was the both of you insulting each other. Maybe this time though, he went a little too far.

"I'm sorry alright." you looked up, and Raph shifted his gaze to the wall.

"I didn't mean it, I was just teasing ya. Truth is I couldn't give a crap if you're small. It's what I like about ya. Ya always give me shit, and yer never afraid to call me out and fight me, even though there's no way ya could win. "

Was he confessing? It sure sounded like it.

"I do see ya as a woman. Ya don't have to worry about puberty or any of that crap. Ya already freaking hot to me." you just stared, cheeks glowing a bright red.

"Y-You think I'm.."

Oh boy, you were going to have a heart attack. No way was this really happening. Raph scratched his head a bit awkwardly.

"Course I do. I guess I just liked having all ya attention. You never flock towards Leo or the others. Ya always chase after me."

Of course you did. You'd been crushing on him for months, maybe since you met him. He was finally looking your way, and he took a step forward.

"I don't care if you're flat as a pizza, ya still cute to me." He placed his hand on your chest to prove his point, except this time there was a plumpness he didn't expect. You flushed, and on instinct you kicked him in the groin. Raph stumbled back, holding the crouch as he fell to the ground.

"W-WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU! HOW DARE YOU TRY AND CUP A FEEL!!"

"Wrong with me! Just a few weeks ago ya were as flat as a pancake!" He gaped, still fairly confused, and you just covered your chest bashfully. Something seemed to hit him.

"This is why ya were acting so strange..." no wonder you hadn't stopped by. He could see it clear on your face.

"Did ya ass get bigger too?"

"Y-You jerk why would you even ask that- aah!!" You didn't expect him to get to his feet and take your arm. He pinned both your arms to the bed, pressing you to the mattress. Your chest was pressed into the bed, and you had to look over to see what he was doing.

"R-Raph let me go this instant!!"

He just smirked at you, lifting your shirt slightly to get a look at you from behind.

"I was right, yer ass did get bigger." you jumped when you felt his hand on your butt. You gasped when he groped you, squeezing your cheek softly. "P-Pervert!! This is assault!!" you squirmed, but it was useless, he had you pinned to the bed.

His body leaning over is what kept you from getting away.

"It's not if ya like it." He whispered sultrily. You swallowed, trying not to let him see just how much you were actually enjoying his touches. He lowered his body, and now you could feel his strong plastron pressed to your back. His hands flattened on the bed above your head, and you whined, still trying to wiggle away. Maybe save a little face.

"Well well, I thought ya were cute before, but now yer delicious." he gave your butt another appreciative squeeze and you could only muster out a small mewl. "R-Raph.." Why was he torturing you so much?

"Yes." you glanced at him, and from the desperate look on your face, he already knew what you wanted. He moved back slightly to help you turn unto your back, and now that you were facing each other, you gazed at him. He could see the raw want in your eyes. His little touches might have just nudged you over the edge.

Without so much as a word you pulled him down, sighing when his lips finally met yours. His body covered your own protectively, not leaning his full weight, just enough that you could feel him. And boy did it feel good.

Your hands were hooked around his neck as you kissed him hungrily. It may have been your hormones, or the fact that you'd been dying to kiss him for who knows how long. Raph didn't mind one bit. This time when his hand landed on your chest, you moaned, begging for more. Raph let out a throaty chuckle when he managed to pull back, giving you a chance to catch your breath. "Ya better keep yer voice down. Wouldn't want ya family catching us."

Family, wow, you completely forgot about those people.

Raph was just staring at you now, and it made you a bit flustered.

"Q-Quit staring." you mutter.

"Why can't I, I'm admiring my woman."

"Y-Your woman! I never agreed to that!" You're dream come true, not that you would say that aloud.

"Guess that means we can't kiss anymore." He looked like he was about to move away, but you grabbed the strap across his chest.

"W-Wait!! I-I guess being your woman wouldn't be the worst thing in the world." He knew secretly you were overjoyed, even if you were trying your hardest to cover it up.

"Whatever ya say shrimp."

"I'm not a shrimp I'm a grown woman!!"

This would be a very interesting relationship.

[89tczier]

People are talking

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

read on AO3 

word count: 3.9k

7 days before

“–and keep an eye on Ben and Bev!” Richie shouts, “I don’t want my bed broke–” he’s cut off by a very exasperated Eddie.

“Can it, Trashmouth,” He snaps, pulling Richie the rest of the way through the door by the lapels of his jacket. For some reason, those two were being trusted to bring back some actual alcohol rather than the shit Richie’s always left with at the end of the month. They all know its gonna take them twice as long than if anyone competent was sent, but the others are frankly just too lazy to offer themselves.

The other five chuckle at the two’s antics, and it’s only then that something dawns on Ben so quick he nearly chokes on his beer.

“Holy shit,” he splutters, because how the fuck did it take him this long to fucking realise.

Bev’s quick to respond, patting his back and giggling in a way that makes Ben feel a little loopy, “jeez, babe, you alright?”

Ben nods, composing himself under the watch of his friends, clearly interested in what could have possibly caused this outburst. “Yeah, sorry, it’s just,” Ben casts a glance back at the door, “they’re like… totally in love, right?” He’s met with nothing but confused looks.

“Richie and Eddie?” Stan asks incredulously while perched in Mike’s lap.

“Richie and Eddie,” he confirms.

Bill, currently nestled under Mike’s arm, snorts like it’s one of Richie’s stupid jokes, “the f-fuck are you on about?”

Ben almost gawks like he didn’t just figure this out, but he did kind of expect the pieces to fall quickly into place once he pointed it out, “have you not seen the way they act? Textbook married couple.”

“They’ve always been like that though,” Bev shrugs, her brows furrowed as she appears to be trying to follow Ben’s logic (he loves her for trying).

He raises a finger. “My point still stands,” and goes on to explain, “they’re literally always together, hanging off each other… who’s the first person Richie asks for at a party? Who does Eddie always sit next to on movie night? They just– how can you guys not see it?”

“You’re talkin’ absolute bullshit, Benny,” Mike shakes his head, “Eddie’s close to ripping Rich’s head off half the time.”

“Oh come on, if he was really that annoyed he’d have said something about it. Eddie doesn’t stand for anything he doesn’t like.” Ben takes a pointed sip of his shitty beer to punctuate and this point seems to land, and Ben would be lying if he said he didn’t feel the least bit satisfied with himself. He’d always had an eye for this stuff, even if he was rather shitty at acting upon it himself (but hey, it worked out pretty well for him).

“Leave it to Trashmouth Tozier to flirt with someone by annoying the life out of them,” Bev smiles.

“And leave it to Eddie fuckin’ Kaspbrak to flirt back with threats and holy fuck Ben I think you’re right.” Mike’s face goes blank.

“See!”

Bill still seems like he’s considering it, “it would explain a l-lot, mainly how Eddie hasn’t actually k-k-killed him yet… a-nd the fu-fucking hammock!”

A chorus of ‘holy shit’s go around the circle. Then it all becomes clear.

“God, they’ve had this since high school?” Bev snorts.

“Why haven’t they said anything?” Mike asks, “It’s not like we’re gonna care, we’re one big lovey mess,” he squeezes both Stan and Bill for emphasis.

“I don’t think they’re dating, necessarily, they’re just… in love.” Ben shrugs.

Bill grins, “now that guh-gives me an idea…”

“You’re hot when you scheme,” Stan hums, resting his head against Mike’s.

“Tell me about it,” Mike agrees, and is poked gently by Bill.

“I think, and I s-say this only for the b-benefit and happiness of my two dumbest friends, we should… encourage them to get a fuh-fucking move on.”

Bev shuffles forward and straightens up, “like… goad them together?”

Bill raises his bottle, “exactly,” and takes a sip while Mike and Stan nod to each other in agreement.

“Smokin’ hot.”

Bill chokes, and laughter fills the room as he curses his boyfriends out.

“Sounds like we’re missing out on something, Eds, they’re officially kicking us out,” Richie pretends to mope as they enter Richie’s apartment again, a bottle in both of his hands. Eddie scoffs.

“Maybe you, asshole, you’re the one who got held up by some dog on the street,”

They all wait for it.

“And don’t fuckin’ call me Eds!”

Richie grins like he’s won a prize.

–

6 days before

Bev isn’t the least bit fucking surprised when she wakes up to see she’s been added to a group chat called “operation: let’s get our two losers together”. She smiles, shifting some in Ben’s arms. He stirs, letting out a warm breath against her skin that makes the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight.

“You see this?” She asks, turning the screen some so he can see. He squints and lets out a sleepy chuckle which makes Bev melt a little. She runs a hand over his forearm and locks their hands together, squeezing for good measure.

“God, this is either gonna go great or really terrible,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the skin where her neck meets her shoulders.

She hums, turning to face him, “I don’t know… I have a good feeling about this.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… they seem meant for each other, I guess…” she pauses, smiles, and kisses him, “we all do.”

Ben smiles against her mouth and is about to return the favour when a string of texts floods both their phones.

put it away Benny Boy, we’ve got matchmaking to do ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:23

Meet us in our flat ~ Stan, sent at 08:23

guys, give em the chance to wake up, they had a long night ;) ~ Mikey, sent at 08:24

they need to hurry up and get a move on, we’ve been talkin all night and they need to get caught up ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:24

Well, not all night ~ Stan, sent at 08:25

…cease ~ Big Bill, sent at 08:25

“On second thought, this is the worst idea ever.”

She cackles, dragging both of them up and towards the bathroom. The boys could wait a little longer.

“Casa de Stan, recently co-owned by Bill and Mike too, speaking please?” This is always how he answers, the dope.

“Hey Mikey,” Ben says, voice still a little groggy from sleep. God, he’s hot, Bev thinks to herself, slotting a gloved hand into his.

“Hey guys!” The door clicks open, and they breeze up the first flight of stairs.

Bill greets them at the door, still in his sleep shirt. “Don’t,” he deadpans, right as Bev’s about to poke fun at the bruising around his neck and chest. She grins slyly at him, patting him on the back as she passes him.

“Benny! Bev! Get in here!” Mike calls from the den. Bill follows them in, taking a seat next to Mike and throwing his legs over his boyfriend’s lap. Stan’s stood hunched over the small stove on the other side of the room, scrambling some eggs which smell unfairly delicious to a moderately hung-over Beverly.

“You’ll get some in a minute,” he states, reading her mind.

“Always knew you were my favourite,” she said, which earns a ‘hey’ from both Mike and Bill.

Bill calls them all to sit down, explaining that they need to actually plan this out as quickly as possible. Richie and Eddie were the only ones with early classes that day and it would be suspicious (and mean) if they were told to keep at bay while the rest of them hung out.

They chow down on some scrambled eggs (which exceed expectations, Bev reminds herself to get the recipe off of Stan), and it ends up working out like this:

They’re going to pry for a few days, see if they can get a rise out of either of them, then at the end of the week they’re all going to meet up at Stan’s place. Using an excuse they haven’t though of yet, they’re going to try to get both Eddie and Richie into the bathroom at the same time and then block the door.

“N-nothing like a confined space and a l-little bit of drink to get the vibe g-going,” Bill grins.

“Speakin’ from experience there, Big Bill?” Beverly playfully chides, giggling as Bill’s ears go pink.

Ben hums quietly, “what if they don’t go for it?”

“They looked three seconds away from mauling each other last night, I think they’ll jump at any excuse they get,” Mike points out, and the plan is set.

They say their goodbyes afterwards, and as Bev fiddles with the key to their flat, Ben takes her wrist gently, turning her around and pulling her into him.

“I love you,” he says, and kisses her in that wonderful way he does that leaves her wanting so much more.

“I love you too,” She grins, draping her arms over his shoulders, “always will.”

–

4 days before

Richie is head over fucking heels, Bill decides.

The two of them offer to help Eddie study terms for a quiz at the end of the week, which fuck knows why they had any hope of that working.

They start off well, Richie and himself trading roles as Eddie nailed each piece of terminology about cognitive processes with detailed explanations to boot. It takes about ten minutes of their relaxed sprawling over Eddie’s floor for their resolve to break. It starts with Richie’s foot-tapping Eddie’s shin to the beat of whatever song he’s humming as Bill reads from the flashcards. Then it’s the complements, and holy fuck, how has Bill never caught this before.

“So smart, so cute!”

“Rich, if you don’t shut up, I’m trying to concentrate.”

“Can’t help it, I’m like a mama bird watching her baby take flight for the first time. Just wanna puke some worms into your mouth.”

“Richie! That’s fucking disgusting!” Eddie near screeches, pushing himself up and lunging forward, knocking Richie back onto the ground and pinning him down. Richie’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing he’s ever seen, and Eddie is too. He can’t believe these assholes are in college.

Okay, this is perfect, Bill thinks, as right on cue, Eddie leaves the room to grab his textbook.

“Got somethin’ on my face, Billy?” Richie asks once he catches the ‘care to explain?’ look Bill is giving him.

“Don’t w-worry about it,” Bill gives his best nonchalant shrug, “it’s just cute, that’s all.”

And he catches it, the signature ‘i’m fucking whipped’ look: the dopey smile, the avoidance of eye contact, the excepting laugh. Gotcha, bitch.

“Isn’t he just?”

–

2 days before

Stan’s starting to fret.

The text came through a few minutes ago, and Stan is reeling.

eddie said he met a guy last night??? went home w him and everythin??? ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:03

“A one night stand?” Mike asks, leaning over Bill’s shoulder to read with Bill’s glasses on because his own are fuck knows where.

“Fucking apparently?”

“Okay, this might not be as b-bad as it seems. They d-don’t know about the other l-liking them, yeah? Eddie’s p-probably, like, in denial or coping or som-something.” Bill slots his glasses off of Mike’s face.

Stan stops pacing and takes a breath, collapsing onto the arm chair opposite, “you’re right, probably just Eddie being stubborn.”

“‘Atta boy, Stan,” Mike grins, shifting to the side and stretching out his legs, resting them in Bill’s lap.

did eddie seem interested in the guy? ~ Big Bill, sent at 13:11

not really, didn’t really talk about him much ~ Bevvy, sent at 13:12

They all sighed.

“Why are we so invested in this again?” Stan mumbles.

“Because it’s gonna be entertaining as fuck if we pull it off.”

–

1 day before

Mike has more luck.

He, Bev and Eddie are browsing around the grocers, preparing for tomorrow when they hear a yelp from the isle next to them. Mike peeks around, seeing a very excited looking Richie pick Eddie up from behind, bouncing him around like he weighs nothing. Mike expects a slew of curses, but Eddie giggles like Mike’s never heard before.

“Put me down, you asshole! You’re gonna knock something over.”

“You’re the one flailing your limbs, Eds– Mike and Ikes! Fancy seeing you here!” He damn near drops Eddie, who’s flushed and breathless.

“We’re trying to shop, you asshole, can’t we have five minutes peace,” Eddie gives him a light shove.

“Oh I know, I’m on a last minute supply run.”

And Mike’s stupid enough to fall for it and ask, “why?”

“Pickin’ up Eddie’s mom, need condoms.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and they both laugh as Eddie goes ballistic.

“Get the fuck out of here, Trashmouth, before I commit a crime,” he shoots Richie daggers, and Rich gives him a salute.

“Sir yes sir,” he half-shouts, sprinting over to a very tired looking cashier.

Eddie’s still watching him, “asshole,” he says with so much fondness Mike thinks he might start floating.

“You don’t seem to mind,” He pokes at Eddie’s pinked cheeks, snorting as Eddie smacks it away from his face.

“Hey dipshits,” Bev calls, carrying a basket full of crisps and liquor, “did you get the chasers?”

Eddie sighs, turning on his heel and walking back to the fridge, which Mike’s guessing was where he was heading before Richie snatched him up.

“Will diet do?”

“Sure, go crazy.” Mike says, as he quickly types.

eddie’s absolutely gone for him, this is gonna go great ~ Mikey, sent 21:33

–

The night of

It’s a slow day for Eddie. His test has been eating away at him slowly and painfully (no matter how  many times Richie said he’d crush it) and while he left feeling confident, he knows he’s still gonna stress about it. It goes fine, but he’s still thinking about it during his shift and the worry hasn’t left him.

It’s just a stupid test, he thinks as his stomach continues to knot itself. Thank god he’s getting drunk tonight.

Eddie lives the furthest away from Stan’s (and Bill and Mike’s) and he really doesn’t wanna walk that far in the cold so he stops by Richie’s after class, knowing he probably has a couple of nice shirts left over there from nights where he’s really too drunk to go home, inevitably leaving the next morning in one of Richie’s shirts instead (huh, funny how that happens). He also knows that if he so much as catches sight of his roommate, he’ll fucking blow up.

He fishes Richie’s key from his pocket, lets himself in and thinks Christ, would it kill Rich to clean up a bit? He’s certain that the pillows from the couch are still there from last Friday. He steps over them after pushing off his shoes in the corner.

“Rich, You fuckin slob! Clean your apartment,” Eddie calls out in place of a hello.

“Afternoon to you too, Eddie!” He hears back. Eddie follows his voice through to the bedroom and finds himself lost for fucking words.

Richie’s standing in front of his bathroom mirror, shirtless, drying off his mess of curls with a towel. He doesn’t notice him for a moment, and Eddie takes that moment to curse the way those jeans hang from his hips. He lingers on Richie’s wiry frame for just a moment more than he probably should.

Damn, Tozier he huffs.

“You peeping on me, Eddie?” Richie’s dumb Southern Belle accent should drive Eddie up the wall, and Eddie does roll his eyes, though it’s really just for show. They both know that.

“Your den is a mess.”

“I like it that way,” Richie’s quick to reply, brushing past Eddie as he heads for his dresser.

“Tough shit, I don’t,” Eddie snaps back, now back in his rhythm as the blood returns to his brain.

Richie grins as he picks through his shirt, taking his sweet time with it and all Eddie can focus on is the hint of his happy trail poking out above the waistband of his jeans. He chooses one, and now Eddie can actually look away as Richie holds the tee up for his approval.

It’s his The Cure one, black, matching his nails and jeans, and easily Eddie’s favourite, both on Richie and to wear himself (it’s comfortable, and it definitely has nothing to do with the looks Richie gives him in it).

They kill time by fixing up Richie’s couch and watching weird ASMR videos on Richie’s laptop. Eddie’s sure the effect is lessened by only having one earbud, but it’s still uncomfortable but so worth hearing Richie snort each time Eddie cringes.

“Is it just me,” Richie says, hitting pause on a woman in cat ears about to pretend to ask them out, “or have the others been acting weird.”

“Right?” Eddie yanks the earbud out, “Bev’s been like… weirdly invasive… like more than she usually is.”

“They all have, what do you think it’s about?”

“I have a funny fucking feeling we’re gonna find out.”

–

There’s a weird fucking vibe in the place when he and Eddie arrive.

“We miss out on the world’s weirdest orgy or something?” Richie asks, mostly joking, as eyes fall on the two of them.

Stan makes an exaggerated gagging sound, and Bill’s face screws up. What a great audience he has.

“Shut up and sit down, Trashmouth, we’re doing shots,” Bev playfully snarls at him.

It gets a little less weird the more Richie has to drink, but he’s either going crazy or there’s something going on. He looks at Eddie, and Eddie shrugs right before he throws a shot back, and Richie gets to watch his Adam’s Apple bob and his eyes squeeze shut and his nose crinkle up because Eds–

“–cant fuckin stand tequila.”

God, he’s cute.

He meets Richie’s gaze, “what the fuck are you smirking about?”

He’s hot, too.

“You take every shot like it’s your fucking first, Eds,” he teases back and it’s huskier than he means it to come out, because he’s tipsy and can’t stop staring at that little drop of liquor running down Eddie’s chin.

Bill chokes, sending everything in the shot glass over his face. Mike cackles.

“Rich, can you go g-get me a f-fuckin washcloth.”

And it’s there that everything ramps up to fuckin’ eleven. Ben starts grinning, Stan’s got that fucking look on his face that can only mean trouble.

“Why the fuck do I have to do it?”

“C-cuz you m-made me spit every-w-where!”

Richie puts his hands up in mock defeat, “alright, alright, damn.” And he stands up, shuffling into the bathroom.

“Oh!” Stan calls after him, “my contacts too!”

“Aye aye!” Richie yells back, scanning the mirror cabinet for anything resembling a fucking contact case. Disinfectant, no, flavoured lube, nice but no… Richie’s squinting as if that’s gonna fucking help. “Can’t fuckin find ‘em, Stan!” He calls back out to them.

He hears a soft “Eddie, go help him,” from Mike.

“You’re going blind for real, fuckface, lemme see,” Eddie rolls his eyes at him, and tries shoving Richie out of the way with his side, but really just ends up pushed up against him. He’s warm and smells of spirits and vanilla, Richie doesn’t fight back, nor does he notice the others approaching the bathroom either.

He’s so focused on the way Eddie’s tongue pokes out of his mouth ever so slightly when he’s concentrating he’s a second too slow to realise.

“When did Stan start wearing contacts– oh shit, Eds, wait–” Richie’s barely gotten the words out before the bathroom door slams shut, making Eddie jump closer against him.

The other losers are whooping and hi-fiving from the other side of the door, and Eddie turns to stare at Richie as if to say what the fuck just happened???

“Beats me.”

“Admit it and we’ll let you out!” Bev says in what Richie assumes is a terrible Terminator impression.

It takes a second (again, because liquor and Eddie) to realise, and he flashes Eddie the biggest grin he can muster.

“Golly gee, Eds, I think they figured it out!”

He’s not being loud, but the others can apparently hear him, because they’re gloating stops in an instant.

Eddie matches his grin, “fucking finally,”

“Wait, what?” Mike sounds confused.

The door opens, and the others are staring at them like their fucking martians.

“Wait what the fuh-fuck?”

Hm, that’s interesting.“I have a feeling there’s been a big misunderstanding,” Richie starts, still grinning.

“Did you guys do it already?”

Eddie snorts, Richie scratches the back of his neck, “uh, gonna have to ask you to be a bit more specific, Benny.”

“Confess. Did we not hear it?”

Eddie frowns, “confess to what?”

“Don’t be difficult, Kaspbrak,” Stan groans, “that you’ve been secretly pining for each other for fuckin’ ages?”

“Is that what you shut us in there for?” Richie asked, his voice creeping up an octave because oh, this was delicious.

The five of them answer simultaneously “yes!”

Richie looks down at Eddie, who holds his gaze for all of one second before they dissolve back into shit eating grins.

“God we really gave you guys too much credit.”

“Stop being coy, trashmouth!”

“We’ve literally been dating for three months, holy shit, guys.” Eddie rubs his face like he’s exasperated.

“What?” Ben nearly yells.

“Here we are thinking you dumbfucks finally figured it out–”

“In fairness, Rich, they got halfway there.”

“When the fuck were you planning on telling us?” Stan demands, keeping a hold of Mike’s arm for balance.

Eddie volunteers to explain. “Well, it took a few weeks to kinda… figure stuff out, and we were gonna tell you then but then Rich wondered how long it would take you guys to figure it out on your own–”

“So you guys kept this shit on for three months?”

There's a mixture of confusion and amusement around the room. Richie had been kind of worried that they’d be angry that the two of them had kept this for so long, but upon learning that they’d also been scheming themselves for the past week, Richie feels pretty fuckin justified now.

Eddie gives his best ‘are you fucking joking’ face, “you guys never said anything! And as much as we wanted to just get over with, it was so fucking funny to see how much shit you guys would let us get away with.”

“Such as?”

“The fact that you, Beverly, bought “I needed a shirt after my ‘walk of shame’” as a reasonable excuse as to why I was standing in Richie’s kitchen, wearing one of his dumb band tees, absolutely covered in hickeys.”

The other four turned to look at Bev, who pursed her lips and mumbled, “understandable,” as Stan whisper yelled “how the fuck did you miss that?”

“Stan you literally walked in on us mid makeout!”

“What? When?” He demands.

“You burst into my flat, mid-rant…”

There’s a good five minutes of the two of them listing all the times there beautiful, supportive, oblivious as all fuck friends had missed what was so clearly in front of them. The energy shifted into something warm and jovial.

“So,” Richie takes Eddie’s hand, “which one of you started this.”

Everyone answers “Ben.”

Eddie grins up at him, and Richie swears he’ll die right there, “told ya so.”

[kariachi]

@mellenabrave More from that same au I’ve been writing. Wanted to write some Mike. Wanted to write my Monette. Have written them as relatives before. So fuck it.

Was supposed to be fun, ended up emotional.

~~

It hadn’t been hard for Mike to come up with an excuse to head out to Cadell- there was a fairy-type gym, he was a magic-user with multiple fairy-type pokemon, it was an obvious thing to eventually go and do. Aggregor had only lightly judged his luggage-packing choices and all Mik wanted was a solemn vow that he would behave himself so they didn’t have to come bail him out of trouble. Cody hadn’t given two shits. There’s been a moment where he thought Yuki might cry if he didn’t bring her along, but promises of a present when he returned (given well out of the others’ hearing) had calmed her enough to get out the door without any waterworks.

It was a long train ride up the coast, long enough for Mike to get through every movie and book he’d planned to consume during the entire trip- damnit, he’d always been bad at judging these things- and he was half-starved by the time he and his pokemon stepped out into the chill northern air. A single lungful was all it took for the majority of his nerves to melt away. Nearly ten years and it still smelled like home in a way the apartment back in Bellwood didn’t, couldn’t. Amy peeped excitedly at his side, even Elissa breaking out in a purr at the familiar street as he looked around for their host.

The local gym leader was no more difficult to find than she’d ever been, and it took practically no time at all for Mike to find familiar braids in among a small crowd at the end of the block. As he approached, it was like time hadn’t passed at all. Though there was much more grey to her hair than he remembered, the Cadell Town gym leader wore the same clothes, the same hairstyle,had the same boundless energy that had her bouncing on her heels as she spoke with some of the residents of the town, and, as Amy called out to get the attention of her Klefki, turned to him with the same big green eyes you’d find on ninety percent of the Morningstar family.

“I’m sorry, darlings, but I’m here for family matters first,” she said to the crowd, “but a promise, the Sewaddle problem will be dealt with by the end of the week.” Mike couldn’t have kept himself from chuckling if he’d wanted to, as she gave them hardly time to nod their understanding before curtseying and spinning on her heel to throw herself at him. “Mikey, sweetpea!”

“Hey Monie.” He didn’t expect to be hit with surprise when he scooped her up, letting her momentum throw them into a quick spin, something in his brain failing to compute her. She was so small, nearly Mik’s size, and he could remember back when she used to carry him around the gym over her shoulder. As if reading his mind, she pulled out of their embrace and looked him over.

“You’ve gotten so big, puberty hit you like a brickwall.”

“Oh no, I’ve seen people puberty hit like a brick. I’m fairly standard.” She snorted, a grin as dazzling as any of his best on her face as their fairies danced around each other with peeps and jingles of affection.

“You’ve never.”

~~

The two were second cousins, with a six-year age gap. They’d never had much in common, really. He was a bookworm with a passion for the arts, who had been more than happy to get into acting when the chance came up. She was an energetic athlete who took to battles so well that by the time Mike had been born she’d already been next in line to take over the family gym. They’d never even gotten to spend much time together, only a few weeks a year over the summer and during Thanksgiving weekend. Still, this had never stopped tiny toddler Michael from following elementary-aged Monette around like a little lost Ducklett, nor her from taking her baby cousin under her wing. She’d taught him how to charm people, to puppy-eye the adults, how to swim, how to apply makeup, and how to throw a punch. They’d been as close as two relatives who saw each other maybe twenty days out of the year could be.

Then his father had died, and Monette had become gymleader, and he’d spiraled, and been shunted to another house, and stopped answering her messages, and and

And now he was sat in the same gym where he’d spent his summers, at the same table where their grandfathers had taught their generation to play Crazy Eights. His team were scattered about the property- from Felix huddling under the wing of Monette’s Togekiss (he could remember his first Big Boy Job like it was yesterday, being five and getting to babysit his egg while she went with her grandfather to help with some trouble in the town) to Amy flitting around the garden just out the window with her Florges. Monette had waved off the gym trainers as soon as they’d arrived and was laying out a seemingly endless supply of pastries herself.

“Tea, coffee, or cocoa?”

“A beer would be nice.”

“But awful for your seizure rate.” Fuck, she’d done her research. Her dare she, she was the dumb one. At his feet, Elissa let out a sound that was suspiciously like laughter, earning herself a glare.

“Traitor.” Setting a cup of tea beside him whether he wanted it or not, Monette settled into the seat across from him with all the grace of a proper lady, Klefki hovering around like her shadow. Not surprising, given he’d belonged to the gym leaders in the family for as long as there’d been gym leaders in the family.

“I’ve missed you, you know,” she said. “Worried about you too. I was beginning to think I’d never get to see you again.” The tone was teasing, but it still cut. There’d been plenty of times he could’ve come by. Could’ve used his allowance to take the train up. Could’ve flown under his own power. Nobody would’ve missed him, nobody would’ve cared. But hadn’t. First because he was angry at the world, then because he was too far in himself to care, and then because he’d been afraid she’d drop him like everyone else seemed to have. Then Yuki had come back in his life, with drama in her wake. Mik had had their own family drama and ongoing recovery. Same with Aggy. His uncle had come back, the whole mess with his mother had started up, and he just-

He missed the rest of his family. He missed when family was easy.

Monette had always been easy.

“We don’t have to talk about it,” she said, handing him a lobster tail. Filled with strawberry cream, because of course they shared the same favorite flavor. “We can just chill if you want.” He did want, but, it there was going to be more drama… Better to get it out of the way.

“I was eating people for a while there,” he said, figuring that was as good abombshell as any. She sipped her own tea.

“Are you still?”

“No.”

“Good. It can’t have been good for your health.” That, was not the response he’d expected. Though he wasn’t quite sure what response he’d expected. Probably something more like horror at the fact he’d sunk to cannibalism.

“I’m still committing crime for a living,” he continued, and she stayed the image of calm.

“Any rape?”

“No!”

“Then we’re good, just call if you need somebody to dispose of a body.”

…okay, maybe his cousin was scarier than him.

Still, it was a relief to see her rolling with the news as easily as she had anything before. Part of him had been worried she’d be horrified, images of the hurt and betrayal on Yuki’s face when she’d found out playing over and over in his head. That part melted at her calm acceptance, turning into a flood kept locked tight behind his teeth. Suddenly he found himself wanting to bare it all- the things he’d done, the fights he’d been in, his times in prison, his fights with the Tennyson team, teaming up with Aggy and Mik, the shit with Charmcaster-

Okay, maybe not the shit with Charmcaster. He could only imagine how Monette would react to that, and he didn’t want to have to explain the resulting bloodbath to Gwendolyn.

“Mom wasn’t my actual mom,” he said instead, leading with the easy stuff. She’d probably already known, she was old enough, but the way she hummed and tilted her head said that if she’d remembered the two were different women it hadn’t been for a good while. “She remarried a week after you guys left.” Monette’s smile twitched, for just a moment, into something nasty.

“Couldn’t have been anything decent, with that sortve timetable,” she said haughtily, as if a crap wedding ceremony would be the least she deserved but the most politeness allowed her to wish.

“Oh, it was shit,” Mike lied and took a deep breath before he continued, clamping down on his emotions. “Developed some, issues, after that. With addiction and shit. Got thrown into a side house for being ‘a danger to others’.” Elissa pressed her head under his fingers with a concerned meow.

“I knew about that last bit,” she replied, smile shrinking (he was hit by the knowledge that he’d never seen her stop smiling outside of funerals, even when she’d made that one boy eat dirt for calling him a  freak she’d been all softness and silk and a smile sharp enough to halve the sun). “You’d vanished into the aether by the time I got there though.” A pang of guilt went through him at the image of her showing up to find an empty house, doubly so when Klefki settled soothingly at her shoulder. She’d found out he was alone and abandoned the gym to see him.

“Yeah, well,” the words didn’t come as easily now, emotion building up behind them, just waiting for an opening, “things got, rough. Very rough.” Another deep breath. “Prison-time rough.”

At no point in this whole conversation had Monette moved, aside from sipping her tea and moving pastries onto Mike’s plate, but there she rose to her feet, circling the table in quick strides and throwing her arms around his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured into his hair, holding on like only Yuki had before, like he might turn to dust if they use every ounce of strength they had, “I should’ve been there.” Thrown off, Mike held her back. Fuck, and she didn’t even know the half of it.

“It’s fine-” She shook her head.

“I knew she was a bitch. I should’ve brought you back to the gym.” Oh Xerneas, that was quite the image. And one much too familiar. She’d been younger then than he was now, only eighteen, and he’d been Yuki’s age-

Had she even met Yuki yet?

With one last, careful squeeze, he pried her off him, flashing a smile.

“I’m okay.” It was a lie. “I’m doing better.” That wasn’t. “I’m doing better, and I’ve got more friends, and a boyfriend, and a little sister, and-” and there was still so much going on. With a wet little laugh she pulled out a handkerchief and dabbed at the wetness on his cheek.

“I expect to meet these people you know. A new cousin and you wait this long to tell me.” She shook her head exaggeratedly, smiling at him as she stepped away. “And I’m going to have to give this man the shovel talk.” Barking a laugh, Mike smiled back.

“Monie!”

“Is he even worth your time?” She planted her hands on her hips. “You’re quite the catch, you know.” Still laughing, he shook his head.

“Why did I bother coming back?” Her smile widened to a grin and she turned away with a dramatic flourish of her skirts, smirking at him over her shoulder.

“Because you missed me,” she said, as if it was the plainest thing in the world.

And damnit if she wasn’t right.

[love-of-fandoms]

Loving You: Chapter 21

Master List

Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19 Chp 20

As the activity wound down at The Floral Sprite, Charlie began to get fussy. While all day Charlie had cried once, because a customer dropped a flower pot that shattered, almost right after Freya closed up shop, he began to cry once again. After Freya locked the door and the trio were moving towards the door to the other two floors of the building, she snatched Charlie from Kandomere’s arms, where the infant had been content for the better part of 2 hours.

“What’s your matter, Charlie?” she asked in a silly voice, raising him to check his diaper. She sighed as the boy continued to cry. “You want a nap?” she asked, and Charlie’s cries began to quiet to soft grumbles. “Yeah,” she sighed, turning to Kandomere.

“I’m gonna put him down for a nap, if you wanna head out,” she said, causing Kandomere to nod reluctantly.

“Sure thing, querida,” he agreed, giving her a sound kiss on the lips after Freya shifted Charlie so he was against her hip. “Te amo, querida,” he mumbled against her lips as they pulled away from each other. The couple spent a moment just basking in each other’s presence with their foreheads pressed together before pulling away at Charlie’s agitated shifting.

“Te amo también,” Freya responded before opening her door. Seeing Kandomere’s face light up, she was quick to cut off his train of thought. “I know very limited Spanish, so no conversations until you teach me some more,” she smiled at him and closed the door, walking up the stairs as Kandomere’s laughter was heard through the door.

“Now let’s get you comfy,” she mumbled to Charlie, walking through her apartment to the spacious second bedroom. The bedroom acted as Sam, Mikey, and Jamie’s room when they were over, with a twin bed up against one wall and a queen against another. Each bed had a nightstand next to it and between the nightstands, with a little room on each side, was a crib which Freya had first set up for Sam, then for Sofia when she was born, but now the crib was used for Charlie when she babysat him.

Freya tucked Charlie into the crib with his alpaca stuffed animal that she kept in the crib, giving him a kiss on the forehead before laying down on the twin bed with a sigh, deciding to take a quick nap before Daryl came to pick Charlie up.

A little later, Charlie was back home with Daryl after he’d been picked up, and Freya was relaxing on her bed, debating on who she should call to gush to…

Scrolling through her contact list, she clicked her cousin Emil’s name and shot a text.

Today, 6:02 pm

***-***-**** : Can you call?

She leaned back and sank into her cushions, closing her eyes with a smile as she reflected on the day, Charlie had actually grumbled a couple times when Kandomere had handed him to her. Freya had been caught by surprise each time, but the fact that Charlie was already so attached to Kandomere made her chest warm.

Soon her phone lit up with an incoming FaceTime call from Emil, and Freya smiled as she picked up.

“What’s good, Freya?” Emil asked, smiling lightly as he blew a stray tuft of hair out of his eyes.

“Buckle up, buttercup, do I have some tea for you!” Freya squealed, and Emil chuckled a bit. 

¨How hot is this tea?” he asked.

“Piping,” Freya deadpanned, and Emil nodded, settling into his seat.

“Alright spill the tea,” he chuckled some more, and Freya quickly blurted.

“I HAVE A MATE!” she squealed, and Emil froze, his eyes darkening a bit.

“Yeah? What’s his name?” he asked, pulling out his laptop. Emil lead a team in Boston for the NSA, and as such had a big database at his disposal… not that he ever used it for personal reasons ;). Freya rolled her eyes.

“You are not looking him up to find dirt on him,” she warned, and Emil sighed. 

“Fine, then I guess I’m getting a flight to LA,” he grumbled, opening a tab and finding the cheapest and soonest flight out.

“Wait what?!” Freya almost fell out of bed at that.

“Yep, gotta meet this elf of yours,” he laughed, and Freya glared. “Make sure he knows to treat you like a fuckin’ goddess,” he said, and Freya groaned.

“That’s it, I’m done, talk to you later,” she hung up, face burning, and could almost hear the maniacal laughter coming from Emil. Of course, she knew that he was somewhat overprotective, but seeing as she hadn’t actually introduced him to a partner before, she had no idea that he’d decide he needed to take the 8 hour flight to LA.

Tabling that issue for now, Freya got up and looked around, noticing the time: 7 o’clock. Dinner sounded good right about now, and Freya wandered into the kitchen, getting what she needed to make a grilled cheese.

After Freya set the butter down on the counter, she got another incoming call. Half expecting it to be Emil, Freya picked it up with a glare, that softened when she saw Grumpy Orc Dad for the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Hey Freya, kinda last minute but can you watch Sam?” he asked, and Freya’s brows furrowed.

“Sure, why?”

“I have another date with Nick-”

“OH MY GODS YASSS SLAY GET SOME!” Freya shouted, so happy that her pushing had worked.

“-and Mikey has a shift and Jamie has a sleepover,” Dorghu pointedly ignored Freya’s commentary.

“Alright, bring him over whenever, I’ll make a second grilled cheese,” she said, and Dorghu grunted an affirmative before hanging up.

Soon Dorghu and Sam were coming through the door to Freya’s apartment, and luckily Freya turned away from the stove in time to get glomped by Sam.

“Hey bud, what’s up?” she asked, and Sam smiled.

“Nothing really, but Dad is finally going out with that guy he likes,” he beamed.

“So I heard!” Freya threw a smirk in Dorghu’s direction, said orc subtly flipping her the bird. “You can go watch whatever on Netflix for a bit while I make dinner,” she told Sam, the boy running off to the kids’ room, Dorghu and Freya soon hearing the opening theme to The Addams Family. Freya smirked lightly.

“Thank you so much, Freya,” Dorghu said, and Freya shook her head.

“No problem at all, but I do want a free drink at the bar next time I’m there,” she smirked, and Dorghu shook his head with a light laugh.

“You always drink for free, Freya,” he sniffed the air quickly, smirking as he turned around and got ready to go. “Well, I’m off, and your grilled cheese is burning,” he laughed as the door closed behind him, hearing a frantic ‘shit!’ as Freya ran to the stove.

Throwing out the first attempt, Freya put another grilled cheese on, crouching down to get on its level, determined not to burn this one. A couple seconds later, Sam came out into the kitchen.

“Hey what does-”

“SHHHHHH!” Freya frantically shushed him, waving her arms in his direction. “I can’t be distracted the grilled cheese will burn!” she murmured, and Sam shuffled his feet awkwardly.

“I’ll just google it or something…” he muttered, going back to the kids’ room to continue watching Addams Family. Soon, when Freya had deemed that the grilled cheese had been on one side for enough time, she flipped it, and the top piece of bread made its escape.

“Damnit…” Freya muttered, taking out her cell after dumping the second grilled cheese. Pulling up the contact labeled Elvish Helpline, she hit call, and didn’t have to wait two rings for the phone to be picked up.

“Freya dear! How are you?” Adalira asked, and Freya groaned.

“How does one make grilled cheese?” she asked, and was promptly met with Adalira’s laughter. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, now can you pleeeease help me?” she grumbled, and Adalira’s laughing eventually calmed down enough for her to respond.

“I’ll be right down to help, darling,” she said, and Freya sighed in relief.

“Thanks mum,” she hung up and turned to the stove, glaring at it with all her worth.

Meanwhile, Kandomere was driving back to his apartment, not really in any rush, and a couple blocks away from his building, he realized that there was actually on street parking near a bookstore he had been meaning to check out. Signaling and pulling over, Kandomere locked his car and went into the bookshop. As Kandomere walked in, a small smile overtook his face, a small bell ringing over his head as the door opened and closed. Kandomere looked around and had absolutely no idea where he would start, with so many rows and not a lot of labeling, but he did a double take upon seeing an older human man at the register. The man laughed, seeing Kandomere’s stunned expression.

“I know that look, but it took a lot of hard work to afford a shop in elf town and I’ve gotten used to the stares,” he laughed, and Kandomere smiled lightheartedly.

“Congratulations to you, then,” the man nodded in gratitude. “Can you help me find something?” he asked, and the man nodded again.

“What’re you looking for?” he asked.

“What would you get a woman who owns a flower shop?” Kandomere leaned towards the man, and his eyebrows rose in surprise.

“Now that, I was not expecting,” he exclaimed. “Why would you ask that?”

“My mate owns a flower shop,” he explained in a deapan, and the bookshop owner laughed once again.

“Once again, I wasn’t expecting that,” he turned and walked around the store, humming occasionally and soon he returned with three books under his arms. “These should do nicely,” he beamed at Kandomere, who gave him a grateful smile back, pulling out his wallet and paying for the books.

“Thank you,” he said on the way out, and proceeded to get into his car. Almost immediately the bluetooth of his car alerted him to a call from his mother. With a furrow of his brow, he hit answer.

Chp 22

[undercoverwizardninjaturtle]

Golden Boy Part 1: A TMNT 2003 FANFICTION

Summary:  Things haven't been easy since Leo left, a once solid brotherhood built on trust and dependency is close to ruin, but can they save it in time? Or is it irrepairable now?

Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2003

Rating: T with mild Violence

Word Count: 2161

a/n I wrote this YEARS ago, so the writing style isn’t up  to date, but I wanted to see how it would do on here

 Don sat at his computer, he only had few more minutes before his shift started and he already dreaded it. He hated his job; it wasn't exactly a secret, as he tried to hide it. Milky told him many times he should quit his job. But he couldn't, they needed the money. And it was an excuse to stay up late, he didn't need it but it was better than sitting up in a chair and waiting for Raph to come home.  And a excuse to drink lots of coffee. Speaking of which, he glanced over from his desk to the kitchen where his heavenous elixir maker sat on the counter. Maybe he could get a cup going before-

ON cue he heard the door slide open, the sound of grunting and groaning followed by a large yawn. The careless cracking of a motorcycle helmet being tossed across concrete floor.

So much for coffee

Now was time for his least favorite part of the night

Donnie quickly turned away from the kitchen to lean back in his seat, even though he didn’t acting like he hadn’t been waiting up till 5 in the morning for his oldest brother. But it helped him feel less ‘motherly, "Hey Raph, where've you been?"

There wasn't an answer, Don turned to see Raph leaning against the fridge with his shoulder and arms crossed and facing Don. If Donnie didn’t know any better, he’d think that Raph was trying to emulate a bad boy from the 50’s. His eyes shifted over to him with barely a care, "Shouldn't the Golden Boy be in bed?"

Ah, Golden Boy. One of the less the affectionate nick-names Raph gave him. It was just one of the many ways Raph chose to show his anger nowadays. Don wished he could say that it was everyone he was treating like this, but it wasn't. Sure Raph wasn't tolerable to Mikey anymore either but it seemed that Raph was going out of his way just to tick Donnie off

Unfortunately, this time had paid off

"I'm getting ready to start my shift. I asked where you've been Raph."

The hiss of carbonation filled the air and a snort that clearly marked his older brother’s amusement. But Don took a deep breath, turning back to his computer to type on the keys, though any numbskull could see his screen was still home the home window. Therefore, his typing was obsolete, “I’m just asking there’s no law against it.”

“Whatever.”  The nonrelated response that indicated Raph had not heard a word he had said. But merely knew Donnie HAD been talking but decided his words weren’t worth the energy to listen to. That and the closing of the fridge followed by fading footsteps

Donnie wanted nothing more than to let him go,

But that’s not what Leo had asked of him when he had designated Donnie leader.

He spun out of his seat just as Raph reached the stairs, “Raph, please. You’re worrying everybody. Not even Casey knows where you’ve been going, remember him? Your best friend? “And by the third step he had reached the bottom of his stairs, “Raph come-on, and talk to me. I don’t care where you’ve been going but I don’t’ want you going alone.  I’ll go, I can help. Anything is better than staying up till sunrise worried to death about you, -“but his brother had already climbed the stairs, “Come on bro, please?!” he reached the second floor. For such a muscle bounded idiot he was fast (and deploying excellent ignoring abilities). The door to Raph’s room slowly closing after him, Don’s hand shot into the darkness, grabbing a hold of a muscle bound arm-

Pain exploded in the center of Don’s face, and the waves of copper filled his mouth. He stumbled back away from the darkened room as his shell hit the railing that kept the family from falling to the living room (which he was never more grateful for). His arm hooked up over the rail to keep from hitting the floor altogether. His free hand smothering the blood now pouring out of his mouth and the pain radiating from his head- his vision was filled with painful lights that indicated probable damage to his skull-

“DON!”  Oh now Raph was concerned. If the sizzling spilled soda running over his feet was anything to go by. A hand grabbed his shoulder, “Shit shit are you ok?! I’m sorry, shit; I didn’t know it was you. Ok so I knew it was you I just reacted-“

‘Just reacted’? Well, Raph’s ‘Just reaction’ left Donnie with an aching head and a hand full of blood. He pulled the hand away from his face long enough to check- oh yup that was a lot of blood.

“Shit, shit shit.” Couldn’t Raph say anything else? “Stay here I’m going to get the first aid kit.” He wanted to tell Raph not to bother, but with the sound of fading running steps he knew there was no point.

And he also knew there was no point in talking.

With his arm still hooked around the railing, he slowly pulled his legs underneath him. Forcing his balance to climb back up to his feet, he leaned over the railing for a moment, struggling with the pounding through his head.

He needed to get to work

One foot in front of the other, the railing only went one way and he knew he’d hit the steps eventually

His shift started in 5 minutes

His family needed that money…

Don’s shoulder bumped into the support beam that marked the end of the railing. Why the hell was he so dizzy? The steps felt like butter beneath his feet, but somehow he managed not to slip down them and wake everyone in the lair. Donnie’s hands gripped the railing for all they were worth (and since he had put them in, he knew what they were worth). His feet finally hit the ground floor. Great, now to get to his desk, the sound of rushing footsteps filled the air from the open hallway again. Sounds like Raph had found the ‘2nd floor’ med kit finally.

“Don?! Donnie where’d you go!?” Don could only roll his eyes, moving toward the back of the stairs, “Oh Dam there you are!” The footsteps hit the stairway. A hand slammed against his shell. But Don’s years of training sent him putting his weight forward and the sound of fingernails barely scraping his shell, “Don,”

“Go ‘way.”  Why were his words slurring so hard? He couldn’t work like that, but the alternative was talking to Raph and giving him attention.

He’d prefer to sound like a drunk.

“I have the med kit, just look at me so I can look at your head.”

What was the point? Donnie turned back to the screen his fingers moving with memory to log in his information. 2 minutes before his shift started, and he got penalized if he logged in late. He couldn’t afford that. Winter was coming up, and the lair needed supplies to be prepped for the cold. Especially for Splinter-

A hand gripped his jaw tightly, a slight tug said the ‘medic’ (Donnie wasn’t sure when they had switched roles) wanted his attention, “Dam it Don just look at me so I can fix your head. I brought your inhaler down, do you need it? I know it’s been a while-“

Though it ached his head to do so, he yanked his jaw free and leaned forward. Dam it, why was the screen so blurry-

“D-Dam it Don!” there was that voice again, grating the back of his brain. Adding to the already painful pulse going through it, “Dam it Don, let me help you.”

Help

Help?

A faint laugh escaped  lazily and dropped from his lips.

“What’s so funny?!” Donnie wasn’t sure how Raph pulled off ‘angry’ and ‘concerned’ at the same time without rupturing his tiny brain, “I didn’t mean to hit you I just reacted, I was half asleep.” oh really? He wasn’t half asleep when he came in, “Just say something, PLEASE. I’ll listen, I swear’ I will. Just tell me what’s going on, tell me you forgive me. Tell me you’re not mad.”

And there it was.

It was what was always expected of him

Everyone around him expected the same thing

I’m sorry Don

I didn’t mean to break it bro

It was an accident

Can you fix it?

You know I need my PlayStation! Please please! It won’t take long!

I know you’re busy, but I need this fixed before our next practice? It’s important

Common Don please help, please fix it

It’s important! You can spare your ‘precious time for us mortals

Donnie fix it!

I”m sorry Don!

Come ‘on get over it

GET OVER IT DONNIE

GET OVER IT!

“Go Away.” Donnie wasn’t sure when he had even spoken, but a cold silence was cast in the room, the hand that had been trying to yank his head in direction of his ‘ big brother’ slid off slowly. It was replaced by a grip gentler grip to his shoulder. Don could just feel the quiver of his brother’s fingers struggling whether or not to squeeze the muscles. Don knew this ‘Raph’. Torn between his own anger, confused by it to a fault.

Donnie knew how to diffuse him.

But the problem was he didn’t care.

Slowly he turned his head back; looking to the older brother he had so depended on. Donnie could remember the night Leonardo had left. That night he had been so taken by panic, the thought of all the responsibility weighing down on him. The thought of taking on two pivotal roles in the family at the same time, he almost hadn’t’ been surprised that he had an asthma attack. But Raph had been there he had come back from Casey and Aprils just in time. The only one to see him in such a torn state, he had gotten Don’s inhaler and helped him clam down, then had stayed up for hours talking to him. A lot of the night was a blur of oxygen deprivation, breathing into paper bags, and a hand rubbing his shoulder. Most of the words were lost with the expansion of time that followed. But Donnie could remember four words that Raph had spoken that night. Being pulled into a tight brotherly hug, they had stayed with him, every night since then when Raph kept his bitter tone and attitude, when he came home drunk and needed someone to get him to his own bed.

“I’m here for you.”

A hand ran back to his shoulder, a small whisper reaching him in a small act of desperation, “Bro-“

“GO. AWAY.” Donnie’s head swerved back over to his brother, it didn’t help the ache was crawling down his spine and neck. An unbearable throb that was spreading like the bubonic plague in the middle ages.

Amber eyes bore at him; desperation lined their normally angry spark that consumed them every day. They begged for forgiveness, they DEMANDED his forgiveness. They wanted him to say he didn’t care about the about the physical attack on his body, or the blood he still felt running down his face.

But Donnie didn’t care.

Slowly the anguish in his eyes began to fade, a glimmer following consuming them slowly. His lips curling and a small vibrations running across his throat. Blaze consuming his eyes and the sound of popping bones in a fist he had previously dented Donnie’s face. Don’s head turned back to the monitor, picking up the headpiece to put in place as he pressed a button on the side, putting him on duty and back to work. And also indicating the end of their conversation.

Something emerald green shot by his head, one of his monitors exploded into a frenzy of spark and lights underneath an angry growl.  A thick voice reaching his ear

“Just go and die already.”

Heavy steps stomped away. Retreating up the stairs and disappearing behind a slamming door.

The Lair descended back into silence and the air lifted up from the missing tension. Don could feel the buttons of his keyboard move ever so gently under shaking fingers.  He drew away long enough to rub his scalp, rubbing his mouth on the back of his hand to drain the rest of the blood, but a faint trickle indicated the still fresh flow.  His limbs heavy from sudden exhaustion

Maybe he could lay his head down for a moment

Just for a moment

Just to close his eyes.

Just before he started his shift….

Just before life took anything else from him

Just a break from being the “Golden Boy”

Here’s the rest that i’ve updated so far if you want to read the  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10466046/1/Golden-Boy

[fanfic-inator795]

RotTMNT Oneshot: Family Karaoke Night

(Also on AO3 if you want to leave a kudos/comment there)

Plot: No matter what their singing abilities, anyone can get into karaoke - even an old rat.

((Finally finished this after having it in my drafts for like a month. Basically, I love family fluff, I love silly fun, and I love imagining characters singing. Put them all together, and you get this. Enjoy! ^v^))

While most kids her age probably had to be pushed and dragged into getting their homework done early, April had no problems with it. Of course, that MAY have had something to do with wanting to hang out with her brothers for a couple hours before having to go to bed and prepare for another exhausting school day, but hey, motivation was motivation.

Though, naturally, this motivation waned a little on the weekends, where it was far too easy to just push everything off until Sunday afternoon. It was a bad habit, April could admit that, but she had gotten a bit better at doing at least a little work each day before rushing off the sewers. And, on nights like tonight, she didn’t want to risk anything weighing on her mind and possibly ruining her night.

So, she worked through her assignments as soon as she got home, and munched on reheated leftovers as she wrote out the outline for her essay that was due the next week. Once she was satisfied with the progress she had made, April shut down her computer, grabbed her already packed bag and heading out the door, making sure to give Mayhem a quick pet goodbye before leaving. It was a bit later than she had hoped, though that hardly mattered when you were staying up all night.

“Heyyyy, I’m here!” April yelled once she reached the entrance of the lair. Almost immediately, she heard footsteps race towards her, and with a grin, she ran towards the brothers with open arms.

“See, boys? I told you she’d show up soon!” Raph said as soon as their group hug ended.

“Of course! I just had some homework I had to finish up, but there was no way that I was going to miss-”

“Karaoke niiiight~” Leo sang, holding a pretend microphone to his mouth. His brothers joined in, harmonizing. “Karaoke niiiiight!” “Karaoke ni-i-iiiiiight~!”

April snickered, shaking her head. Such dorks, but she wouldn’t have it any other way. After a moment though, she noticed the missing member of their quartet. “Hey, where’s Donnie?”

“Oh, you know how he is,” Raph answered, “He’s still downloading songs. I guess there was this album that was just released that he really wanted to sing?”

“Ah,” April nodded. That definitely sounded like Donnie. “Heh, you’d think he’d be happy with the songs we have. He texted me yesterday, tellin’ me all about how it was apparently ‘the most advanced karaoke machine of all time’. Wouldn't be surprised if that thing had a thousand and one songs on that thing by now.”

“Thaaat sounds about right, but apparently it’s still not enough,” Leo shrugged. Not that he could really complain, more songs could only be a good thing, just as long as they weren’t a bunch of cheesy love songs that he and his family sang at literal nauseum while they were high off a case of Rat Flu. No matter how fun the idea of an all-night karaoke night might have been, Leo wasn’t and would never be in the mood to hear a another three hour rendition of “My Heart Will Go On”.

“Come on, let’s go grab the snacks and then we can ask him about it!” Mikey told them, already grabbing April’s arm and eagerly dragging her towards the kitchen, “Oh! And April, did you bring-?”

“Of course!” April grinned, holding up her bag full of goodies. Beads and tacky sunglasses, huge hats and feather boas, and at least half a dozen old halloween costumes. It would seem that one person’s trash was another person’s stage outfit. Mikey grinned back at her, giving her a quick hug.

“This is gonna be AWESOME!” “Heh, isn’t it always with you guys around?” “Could say the same thing about you, sis~”

It took a bit of maneuvering to grab all of the snacks and treats Mikey had made in one go, but thankfully the box turtle’s near perfect balance and April’s experience in waiting tables helped them enough to carry all of it into the next room without spilling a single crumb - though they’d have to come back for the drinks. Naturally there were pizza puffs, as well as chicken wings, tortilla chips, popcorn shrimp, and even cupcakes (and in three different flavors, no less). Even with supper still settling in her stomach, she couldn’t deny that it all looked delicious!

“Gee Mike, you think we have enough to get us through the night?” April asked, smirking a bit despite the weight on her arms.

“I sure hope so.” Mikey placed the final bowl on his head, making sure not to tilt it. “But, if we get really desperate, I think we’ve got some ice cream in the back of the freezer.”

“Uh huh, and how old is it?”

Mikey thought for several moments before he finally answered, flashing a sheepish grin as he did so. “Uhhh, probably best not to ask.”

The tv room had been completely transformed. Leftover streamers from past birthday and holiday parties had been strung around haphazardly while a small ball with rainbow lights spun in the corner, giving the whole room a sort of disco effect. The lights were low and the projector was already on, and near the screen were two speakers that had been dragged out specifically for this night. From the karaoke machine, Donnie (whose classic goggles had been replaced with a pair of purple shutter shades) gave April and his youngest brother a brief wave, barely looking up from his tablet.

Beanbags, blankets and pillows had also been dug out, creating a classic sleepover mood. Near Splinter’s chair was their usual eating table, where they quickly dropped off their load. Almost immediately, Raph and Leo dug in, putting their “Best Power Rock Anthem of All Time” argument on hold for the time being.

“So, we about ready to start this night, already?” April asked, “Cause I’ve had a loooong day, and I’m ready to get singin’!”

“Just a few more minutes!” Donnie told her, “Just have to finish downloading these last few songs, plus install the love song blocker-”

“Tha’k yuu!” Leo said through a mouth-full of pizza puffs. His twin simply gave him a thumbs up.

“If April’s callin’ the first song of the night, then Raph’s callin’ the second one! After all-” He smirked, his voice deepening. “Someone’s gotta bring a bit of soul to this shindig. Awww, yeahhh~”

April snorted, covering her mouth before her giggles could escape. How Raphael managed to get into soul music of all things, she would never know. But hey, whatever made him happy. “Heh, second song’s all yours, Raph.”

“Sweet. Thanks, girl.”

“Ooh! And we’ve just GOTTA do duets!” Mikey chimed in, quickly turning back to his genius purple brother, “That thing does duets, right Dee?”

“It had precisely two hundred and thirty nine duets programmed into it, as well as a second microphone plug-in available. ...So yes, ‘Angelo,” he smiled simply, “It does duets.” Mikey leapt across the sea of blankets to pull him into a hug, silently thanking him for all his hard work. Not that it was really THAT hard or even that much of a bother - Donnie was just as much of a showman (er, show-turtle) as the rest of his brothers, and it didn’t take a genius to realize that they would be hearing quite a few Broadway numbers that night. Still, he appreciated the gesture, and returned it with a quick pat on Mikey’s shell.

“Well then come on, guys! Let’s stop talking about it and get started already!” Leo grinned, standing from his seat and striking a bit of a pose, “I hope you’re ready to be blown away by my sweet singing skills.”

“Hmph, gonna be hard to be ‘blown away’ if all you sing are meme songs,” Donnie retorted, rolling his eyes while everyone else snickered.

Leo however was hardly offended. “Don’t act like you still don’t consider ‘All Star’ to be a jam even after all the memes,” he said, smirking back at his twin.

“You know, in my time, people went out for karaoke rather than just taking over the nearest space for who knows how long.” Everyone turned to see Splinter in the doorway, looking not too happy about losing control of the tv room for the night. Sure, he had a tv in his bedroom, but the smaller screen plus what was sure to be a whole night of loud singing and laughter wasn’t much of a consolation.

“Aww, come on, Pop, don’t be like that,” Raph said, offering his father a welcoming smile. The rat man just huffed, crossing his arms.

“We’ve got snacks!” Dashing back over to the small table, Mikey picked up the bowl of chips. “You looooove snacks~”

Splinter hummed. “I do love snacks,” he mumbled, softening a bit.

“And-” Leo began, hoping to seal the deal and free themselves from their rat-dad’s grumpiness towards their special night once and for all, “I’m sure we could fit in some time to let you sing a few songs too! Come on, Dad, join in on the fun!”

At that, Splinter’s yellow eyes narrowed and hardened once more. “Ohhh, so NOW you don’t mind me singing, huh?” he asked, “Have you boys learned to appreciate other people’s musical talent, or do you simply not mind listening to something that ‘belongs in the sewers’?”

While April could only look on in confusion, the four turtles all winced in harsh realization. So THAT was why he was so upset and annoyed…

“Okay, but that was different!” Leo argued, “That was for our band and, and we just wanted it to be OUR thing!” In a lower tone, he added, “Plus it’s not like weird opera singing would’ve fit anyway-” Splinter growled. He tries to impress his sons a little with something unique and this is what he gets?

“BUT, that still doesn’t make it right!” Raph said, quickly jumping in (and shooting Leon a glare for good measure), “We’re sorry for what we said, and for bein’ so rude about it, okay Pop?”

“Yeah!” “Totes!” April nodded as well, despite having nothing to do with whatever incident brought all this up, just to give her support. Getting an idea, she then reached over and grabbed one of the microphones.

“You could even have the first song!” she offered, handing him the device as a peace offering, “What do you say, Master Splinter?”

“...” Splinter looked at the microphone, then at the faces staring back at him. All of them (the boys especially) were looking at him with concern as well as encouragement. Splinter sighed through his nose. He might have been petty at times, but he wasn’t so stubborn that he’d totally ruin his kids’ night. “I suppose I could sing one song.”

“Then step on up, Dad!” Donnie smiled, giving a dramatic wave of his arm towards the karaoke machine. Splinter smirked at the gesture, and began scrolling through the seemingly infinite song list.

“So you’re SURE there’s no love songs on there,” Leo whispered. Donnie nodded - though, he still wasn’t expecting that great of a ‘performance’ judging by how far back he moved, phone in hand. He just hoped whatever his father picked, it wasn’t too long of a song.

Thankfully, the genre tabs made it a bit easier to search for something familiar to him. He didn’t expect there to be any non-anime opening Japanese songs on there, but- “Aha!” He selected a song, and after a couple seconds, a light enough tune began playing through the speakers. First a keyboard and guitar, and then a blast of trumpets.

Immediately, everyone sat up a bit straighter. “Whoa! Is this-?” Raph asked, beginning to grin.

“I didn’t know he liked THIS kind of music too!” Leo commented.

“Ha! I grew up with this music, frankly I’m surprised YOU all even know it!” Splinter chuckled. The wonders of the Internet and timeless hit songs, he supposed. He then began to sing as he struck a bit of a pose, not even needing the words.

“Do you remember... the 21st night of September? Love was changing the minds of pretenders, while chasing the clouds awayyyyy~” His young audience started clapping along with the beat, giving a small cheer or two as they did. “Our hearts were ringing, in the key that our souls were singing. As we danced in the night, remember how the stars stole the night away~”

Sure, Splinter’s voice was still a bit gravely and off-key, but- “You know, he’s actually not that bad,” Donnie smiled, “Definitely has stage presence.”

“Heh, yeah,” Raph agreed, “And he can sure put a lot of energy into somethin’ when he wants to, don’t you think-?” April’s laugh cut him off, bringing the snapper’s attention back to the ‘stage’ in front of him, where his younger brothers now stood beside their father, happily singing along with the chorus despite not having microphones of their own. Splinter just grinned at them, not minding them all.

“Ba de ya!” Leo and Mikey sang.

“Someday you’ll remember-” Splinter sang back.

“Ba de ya!” They sang again, with Raph and Donnie now joining in as well.

“Dancing in September~”

“Ba de ya!”

“Never was a cloudy dayyyyy!” Splinter and April both belted out, with the latter still trying to hold back her laughter. The song went on, and not a single voice completely dropped out, with Splinter naturally taking the main part while his children kept the chorus strong. Even as the tune faded out, they all still sang and danced and giggled until Splinter finally spoke up once more.

“Well, I think it’s clear that I’ve properly gotten this karaoke night started~” He smirked, “April, I believe it’s your turn.”

“Don’t mind if I do!” April grinned as the rat passed the microphone.

April and Raph kept things in the 70s a bit longer with “Hanging On the Telephone” and a bit of Stevie Wonder while the twins brought it back to more moderns hits with  “Never Gonna Give You Up” (“Seriously, Leon? We were having such a great time and I feel so annoyed right now.”) and a bit of Daft Punk. Mikey nearly brought the sewers down with his rapping, and then it was back to Splinter with “Right Back Where We Started From”, a song the boys could swear they remember him singing from the childhoods, either while he was preparing food or just a light sorta-lullaby to calm them down.

The song selections went from disco to glam rock, broadway to hip-hop, soul to techno, and everything in-between. Costumes were naturally dragged out with each new performance, further adding to the fun as numerous pictures were taken. Snacks were replenished twice and Splinter grabbed some sake from his second “Do Not Touch” cabinet in the kitchen. He wasn’t much of a drinker these days, finding milk and cake more appealing, but he figured a glass or two wouldn’t hurt. As for everyone else, they loaded up on sugary pop and juice, not minding missing out.

It didn’t take long for Splinter to drop out after that, though he was still content with sitting in his chair and watching everyone else sing. He clapped after the surprisingly impressive rap battle between his youngest and his oldest, and laughed along with everyone else when Leo tried to sing some Vanilla Ice.

But, not even the most fun karaoke nights could last forever. The time between songs, where they’d just talk about random things or play on their phones, was getting longer and longer. Donnie had begun singing one of the more mellow songs currently on the billboard top 100 when Splinter finally closed his eyes.

When he woke up, the atmosphere in the room was much different. It was quiet, warm and peaceful even, despite the harsh neon lighting from the spinning light ball. On the screen, a turtle-shell logo silently bounced around. Surrounding his chair, Splinter could hear the light snores and mumbles of his sons and their friend. He could also see all the empty cans and wrappers, not to mention all the dishes and crumbs.

Splinter shook his head, mentally scolding them for the mess before shrugging it off. They were teenagers and making messes was just a thing they did, they could always clean later. He then put a paw to his mouth, muffling his cough. He didn’t lose his voice, but his throat was still pretty dry.

Slowly, he got up, and crept around the covered lumps, silent and swift like the ninja master he was. He stole one last glance at them once he reached the doorway, their laughter from the night before still echoing in his mind. He smirked at the memory, chuckling lightly before making his way to the kitchen.

Not wanting to wait for tea, Splinter just grabbed a cup and ran some warm water, drinking that instead. He made sure to sit as well, his aging joints still aching slightly despite being plenty mobile. He had accepted his age, having fought off any ‘mid-life crisis’ thoughts pretty well so far, but that didn’t mean he didn’t still notice certain things. The aches, the fatigue, the white hair.. (He still wasn’t completely sure if that last one was simply the mutation’s doing, or if raising four kids really stressed him out that much.)

Even so, nights like the one they just had and the content mornings like the one he was having now reminded him that he still had plenty left to enjoy and much more life to live. He definitely appreciated that… Perhaps that was why, once he finished his drink and his throat no longer ached, Splinter began getting out various pans and ingredients.

Ever since Michelangelo developed his cooking passion at the age of eight, he and his brothers had taken care of whatever meals that weren’t just ordered in. But just because Splinter was no longer the chef of the house didn’t mean he still didn’t know how to prepare a decent family breakfast. He started the rice first, then the eggs. They would have just enough for everyone to get one omelette each. He was just about to start cracking them when he heard footsteps.

“Morning,” April said quietly, giving him a nod.

“Good morning, April,” Splinter nodded back, “Feel free to go back into the tv room and relax, it’s going to be a while.”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna stay here for a while,” April replied, “I needed to stretch for a bit, and I do have another set of hands right here for you to use.”

“I’m capable of making breakfast on my own,” Splinter told her, his tone betraying his otherwise distancing words. You are a guest, don’t feel like you need to help.

April just smiled, and walked over to the counter. “I know, and so am I. Mind handin’ me a peeler?”

Having no real reason to argue, Splinter did as he was told. “...By the way, thanks for joining us last night,” she told him. With all the adventures there were to be had around the city and Splinter’s shows that he enjoyed watching, the six of them didn’t always get to hang out together too often. But just because these instances were more rare didn’t mean they weren’t still wanted. “The guys and I really enjoyed havin’ you around. ...You’re a pretty cool guy, Master.”

A warm smile crept onto his lips. “...I could say the same about you, April.”

The two worked in silence, with Splinter concentrating on the rice and eggs while April made her favorite hashbrown recipe as well as some bacon. Slowly but surely, the rest of their underground home (or in April’s case, home away from home) started coming back to life.

Mikey woke up first, greeting them both with a hug and eager to help by making toast. Raph came next, having smelt the food. With the food covered, he assigned himself table setting duties. Finally, a very groggy pair of twins joined them. Donnie started up the coffee machine and tea kettle (with the majority vote settling on camomile with a bit of honey) while Leo got out all the juice they had left in the fridge.

By the time everything was done, conversations had started up, hoping to hide the sound of their stomachs growling. “You know, we should try to do this next week!” Mikey said as they all began to sit down, “Or next month or, you know, just sometime soon!”

“What, karaoke till we pass out and then breakfast the morning after?” Donnie asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey nodded eagerly. “Yeah! At least once a month! Come on, you guys are lyin’ if you say you don’t want to do that more often.”

While Mikey’s brothers and sister considered it, Splinter hummed in consideration. “Not a bad idea, Orange, though why don’t we focus on eating breakfast and cleaning up last night’s mess before we plan anymore karaoke nights, hm?”

The box turtle gave a sheepish smile. “Heh, right,” he said as he began digging into his food, “Got it, Pops.”

Splinter smiled back at his orange son before looking back down at his own plate. He nibbled on his rice and toast, and resisting the urge to start humming a certain song from the night before… Fun karaoke nights with his family were one thing, but getting a tune stuck in his head for hours on end was quite another.

Still, it wasn’t a bad idea… Not a bad idea at all.

THE END

[waywardandwestward]

Let Me Be Your Shelter

Chapter 3 (Updated)

Gally x OFC

Warning(s): Never enough editing, Not beta-read. Mild Swearing.

When you lose someone, you try to remember the last time you saw them. And most of the time it’s a blurry memory, because at that time you had no idea it would be the last.“ - Hedonist Poet

A/N: The tags are still messing with me, so like last time I will reblog this post with the Masterlist Link about an hour after posting. Enjoy!

Day 7: Remembrance 

I had been assigned to help Zart in the gardens and he was... he was okay. He was friendly and he made me feel comfortable enough to have conversations with him. I had found out in our time together that among all the boys he was the most recent to arrive before myself.  He was glad to be free of the "Greenie" title.

“It’s nice not to be the new guy anymore,” he’d say.

Newt had been elected second in command, but always seemed to find himself with us, planting seeds and gathering fertilizer. He told Zart and I it was because he felt the most useful with us. His limp made it more difficult to be a builder. I liked Newt. He didn't talk as much as Zart, but his charm and easygoing attitude made him enjoyable to work with.

The only thing I knew for sure though, was planting crops was certainly better than working with that stupid shank, Gally. He had both Mikey and Bach slaving away on the new homestead, while he disappeared into the woods every morning. So much for everyone doing their part, I thought to myself as I kneeled in the dirt, pulling weeds out of the ground, watching Bach and Mikey struggle to carry lumber across the Glade.

Zart had spent most of that morning trying to get Newt and me to laugh; cracking jokes and throwing dirt around. Newt had enjoyed his antics, and often thew dirt back at him, meanwhile I tried really hard to keep a straight face, but every now and then he would catch the side of my mouth slide upward.

"There's that smile," Zart said proudly with his hands on his hips. "You think I can't get it out of you, but I can." In jest, I thew one of my grungy gardening gloves at him. He winced as the thick fabric hit his shoulder. Now that  made me laugh.

"Alright you two," Newt said carrying a bucket of fertilizer over to us with a grin on his face. "Enough giggling, back to work!"

"We are working," Zart attempted to act innocent. "That lead builder of yours on the other hand..."

"Where is Gally, anyway?" Newt asked. "I haven't seen him all morning. Come to think of it, I didn't see him most of the morning yesterday either.."

"Or the morning before that, or the morning before that, or the morning before-"

"We get the point, Zart," I said.

He stuck his tongue out at me and continued to talk to Newt, "The Shank just disappears until lunch time."

"Really?" Newt  questioned.

"Who knows," I mumbled. Honestly, I hadn't really cared.

"Hey-hey!" Mikey's annoying voice rang in my ears. "What's everybody doing over here?"

"Our jobs," Zart replied playfully as Mikey approached us. His stride is lazy, but confident. "You know, the thing you should probably be doing right about now."

"I'm just taking a break," Mikey defended himself. "Gally's got us working overtime. Meanwhile, he gets to sneak off and do whatever he wants. What's up with that, Newt?"

Zart snickered , "He's probably jerki-" Zart took one look at me and then to the other two boys. That stopped him from finishing his sentence.

"What?" I asked as I watched the two other boys giggle to themselves.

Zart's face had gone pale, and he swiftly went back to laying down new soil. "Nothing. Never mind. Get back to work." I could still see him chuckling.

"Okay..."

Mikey coughed before asking, "What about you, Greenie?" That devilish smirk appeared on his face. I despised it. "How's the farming business?"

"It's fine," I asserted trying really hard to get back to my work. I could feel his eyes boring into me like I was the food he's been deprived of the last few months.

"You look pretty thirsty," he said pulling out his canteen. "Here, take my water."

"I'm good, thanks."

"I could give you a hand, if you want."

"I'm fine, really." The smirk was still there. I couldn't see it, but I could feel it driving into my soul. My body tensed as I kept trying to figure out what he was doing. Oh, no, I thought. Flirting? Was this flirting? If it was, I was pretty sure I didn't like it.

Newt and Zart were no longer paying attention to Mikey, but had refocused on their own work. He was about to pester me again, but thankfully, someone interrupted us.

"Mikey," it was Alby, who appeared not too far away from where we stood.  "Get back to work."

"Whatever you say, oh fearless leader," Mikey winked at me before he strode off, leaving my stomach churning.

I rolled my eyes and stood up letting out a small groan. "Hey Alby."

"Jo, could you do me a favor."

I nodded, brushing the dirt of my pants. "Sure, I guess."

"I'll take over for you here," he said. "Just go find Gally for me. He's slacking off, which isn't like him, you know?"

"Actually I don't," I shrugged, and then I mumbled, "I don't really know anyone."

"Poor choice of words," Alby apologized. "But could you find him for me please."

I thought for a moment. Avoiding Gally had been my number one priority the last few days, and I had done a pretty good job so far. I hadn't spoken to him at all since that night at the bonfire.  The only interactions we had was when I caught him staring at me from across the Glade. I could never tell if he was just angry about what happened, or maybe it was just an overall utter disdain of my being.

I didn't think I was ready to face Gally again. But Alby had asked, and even if I was still a little mad at Alby about the maze situation ,he was still technically my superior. It wouldn't take that much interaction would it? I'd find Gally, yell at him to go see Alby- from a far- and then make my way back to the gardens. No harm done.

"Sure thing, Alby," I sighed.

I marched my way into the woods, feeling the dirt and soil sticking to the bottom of my shoes and hearing the twigs crack and the leaves crumple as I stepped on them. It hadn't taken me long to find him. He was picking up broken logs and dead wood along the wall of the maze,  just far enough away that he hadn't noticed me, but close enough that if I could have called out to him he could spot me. And that had been my plan, to just shout it out and then walk away. Unfortunately, my curiosity got the better of me. If he hadn't been at work all morning that meant, that wood couldn't have been for the future homestead. So, what was it for?

I followed him a few paces behind and we stopped at a large round, crack, maybe even big enough to be considered a small cave that resided in the Maze's wall. I watched as Gally plopped his wood down on the ground. Two walls had been built around the crack, and what appeared to be the makings of a door and a roof were leaning up against the wall of the maze.

"What are you doing?" The words slipped out of my mouth.

Gally jumped. "What the hell, Greenie? You couldn't worn a guy when you're gonna pop up so you don't scare him half to death."

"Sorry," I said. "What is all this?"

"Well, it was supposed to be a surprise," he snapped. As he let out a frustrated sigh, he lifted his arm and brushed his fingers right through his hair, tugging on it slightly.

"A surprise?"

He took a second to breathe in what had just happened and examined his surroundings just to be sure none of the other Gladers were around. He wrapped his arms around his body, like he was trying to close himself off to me. "More like an apology," he confessed. "To you." I raised my eyebrows and stared at him blankly. "Things can be pretty overwhelming when you first get here. Most of us have been here so long we forget that. I also don't think we recognized how much worse it would be for you. So..." He moved toward the structure and looked inward at the hole in the wall, a hole probably just narrow enough to fit two people. "I figured you might want some privacy, and this is where I always come to be alone, so..."his voice trailed off again.

I simply stood in awe at all of the work he'd done. "You did all this in five days?"

"I don't sleep much," he shrugged. "I don't even know what time it is. If your up I guess that means..."

"Mikey and Bach have been waiting for you for the last three hours. Alby sent me to come find you." Gally nodded in understanding. I watched as he began gathering his tools together, and it clicked. This wasn't work for him. It was a passion. "How did you know how to do all this?" I asked.

He shrugged again. "I just sort of knew, I guess." Something clicked in him too in that moment. I wasn't sure what it was, but I could see the gears turning in his head. "I should probably head back I guess. Don't want to get in trouble with Alby." He swung his satchel of tools over his back.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" When I asked him this, he looked down as if perhaps he had dropped one of his supplies, but it eventually dawned on him, that that's not what I had been talking about.

"I'm sorry." His body was rigid, almost like he wasn't comfortable in his own skin, and yet there was something genuine and soft about the sound of his voice. "We shouldn't have- I shouldn't have cut you down like that, even if I didn't agree with you."

"So you'll talk to Alby?" I pushed.

"I already did. He said the vote had to be unanimous and that there was no point when the vote would still be split."

I nodded in disappointment. "He won't even let me make my case."

"Jo," his voice could have easily come off abrasive in this moment, but he chose a kinder tone. "No matter what you say, Alby and I are still gonna vote against you." His hands moved to his pockets. I watched as he brushed his left foot back in forth in the dirt. "You know why I can't."

I didn't really.

"Yeah," I said. I could have taken the opportunity to ask again about the boy he saw go into the maze, but I couldn't, not when he was this vulnerable. "It's just- I don't know if I can stay here and ignore whatever's going on out there."

"You know, if you were any other dumb Greenie, I'd tell you to go anyway. I'd let you leave and I'd tell you never to come back."

"That's a little hypocritical don't you think?" I asked crossing my arms over my chest.

"That is one hundred percent a possibility, yes."

"Don't use my own words against me," I snapped.

He took a step closer, just enough to make my arms and legs tighten in anticipation. "Look, Alby is trying to make this place a home for us. Is that really such a bad thing?"

I supposed it wasn't. After all, we'd been put there for a reason. Maybe Gally was right. Maybe it was to keep us safe. My gut told me that wasn't true, but my mind wanted to believe it so badly. When looking at the boy in front of me, and thinking of the others back in the Glade, I had to ask myself, was this place that I had found myself in really all that bad? We had food and water. We had shelter. We had some form of companionship. Was it really worth risking my life to leave?

"Come on," Gally said. "We have a pit stop to make before I catch up with Alby."

Gally led me to the other side of the Glade, waving at Alby as we passed him from afar. Alby nodded at him, in approval, squinting through the sun in his face.

"Wow," I breathed out as we stopped in front of another part of the maze's wall. Two thick groups of vines grew up the side, maybe seven feet in width from each other. Between the sprouting vines were ten names carved into stone. Six were clear.

ALBY

MIKEY

ZART

GALLY

BACH

NEWT

Four had been crossed out.

GEORGE

WES

ANDY

GIBS

"We're a family," Gally stated. "I know it doesn't always seem like it, but we are. We want you to be a part of that too."

There he was again. His eyes falling right into mine waiting for me to take the knife that he pulled out of his holster. He was being open and honest with me, as he had been since the very beginning. And that scared the shit out of me.

"Stop staring at me like that," I turned away from him.

His face squinted in confusion. "Like what?"

"Like that!" I snapped. "Like the way you and Mikey- Look the fact that I'm a girl is not lost on me okay? But I don't want you to look at me differently, or treat me differently because of it."

Gally was taken aback. "I don't think we were planning on it... And I don't look at you differently."

"Than why did you say if I was anyone else, you'd let me leave?"

"Fair enough," he admitted softly. "You are different. You're special."

Special. I was special? I let the word sink into me and just as it hit, my heart I rejected it. "No. I'm not special. I just have a vagina. So, stop staring at me like that. "

Half of me expected him to laugh, but all I saw was the look of a boy who was trying desperately to find the right words to say. "Look, you feel... familiar," he said quietly. "I don't know if it's your face, or your voice, or that long blonde hair of yours, or the way your ears get all red when your angry. And yeah, maybe, maybe it's because you're a girl. But you feel familiar. You're like this remembrance of a memory that was taken from us." He took in a deep breath. I could feel my heart rate speeding up. "There were a lot of things I hadn't thought about until you showed up. Like my mom. Or my sister. Or the girl I had a crush on. And that's how we all feel. We don't think your any better or any worse than the rest of us, but having you around... it's a comforting reminder."

"You have a sister?" I asked meekly.

"I don't know!" he projected almost as if he were saying, Seriously, that's what you got out of all of that? "But I could. I might."

"Gally," I moved a step closer to him, and spoke honestly. "I don't want to be a mom, or a sister, and I certainly don't want to be anyone's crush for that matter."

"I didn't mean it like-you listen but you never actually seem to hear what I'm saying. The only thing we want you to be is alive. And if you go out there, you'll end up like them." His eyes shifted from mine to the wall grazing his hand over Gibs' crossed out name. "I don't want you to be like them," Gally's voice shuttered. I went to reach for his arm, but he didn't notice. He quickly shook off his vulnerability as he turned back to me holding out his knife, waiting for me to take it.

I stared at the knife for a moment, before I decided to reach out and grab it. My fingertips brushed against his palm as I went to grip the handle. It wasn't the first time we had touched but it felt like it. Electricity moved from my hand, all the way down my spine.

As a blush creeped up into my cheeks, I became aware that all of the other boys were looking over at us from the other side of the glade, waiting for me to make a decision.

I didn't want to let them down. But, I needed to do this my way.

My hand let go of his knife, returning it safely back into Gally's hand. He looked down in defeat while I moved my own hand to the holster that sat on my hips. I pulled out my own knife, the one I had discovered on my first day. When I looked around at all the boys waiting patiently at the other end of the Glade, I saw a new expression on all their faces.

Hope.

I touched the blade to the wall just underneath Gally's name, and hit the handle hard with my other fist, making a deep dent in the stone. I carved out two letters.

JO