#and where is mikey during all this you might ask?

[coconurt]

AAAAAAAAAAAAA HAPPY ANNIVERSARY OWL @owlfacenightkit 💕💗💞💞✨😍💕💕💘💖🎉💖💗🥳💝🥰💞💞💞

You are my world, and every day I fall a little more in love with you. You are everything I was missing before I met you. Here's to a wonderful first year together, and to many more happy years to come <3

Anyway, here's that little fic you suggested I clean up as my gift to you. I hope you like it :3

~1.3k, rottmnt, bad end future, Raph-centric, mostly fluff

~~~~~

A baby.

A healthy baby boy. Cassandra's son.

A child, born into this desolate hellscape of a world.

It almost seemed too absurd to be real. But yet, here Raphael was, sitting awkwardly outside the medbay, waiting for his turn to meet the kid.

He's… small. Smaller than you would expect, Donnie had informed him earlier. Six pounds, eight ounces. But healthy, for a human infant. Thank God.

With a tired smirk, his brother had crossed his arms over his plastron. Especially his lungs. Sweet Galileo, that kid's got pipes.

That conversation had been hours ago. Raph had just returned to the resistance base following a supply run, and Donnie, bless his soul, had immediately come to find him to tell him the news—that the baby came early. Somewhat out of character for the reclusive softshell, but Raph couldn't blame him. They were all on edge and excited. It's not like he was complaining, either.

And now, he sat alone on an overturned crate, his hulking form slumped forward and knots twisting uncomfortably in his stomach. He curled and uncurled his massive fingers nervously—anything to distract himself.

This was silly, he knew. He had absolutely nothing to be afraid of. It was a child, for christsakes. A tiny human infant. Nowhere, not even close to the most awful thing he'd faced.

He'd stared down mutants, monsters, hell, the Kraang themselves. He'd gone toe to toe with the literal scourge of their world more times than he cared to count, and still lived to speak of it. And now here he was, actual butterflies dancing in the pit of his stomach at the prospect of meeting his closest friend's newborn son.

Stupid…

To be fair, this would be his first ever time interacting with an infant. Like, ever. Growing up in the sewers hadn't left him and his brothers with much opportunity for things like that. Then the apocalypse had come knocking on their door, and the entire world had shifted to survival mode at the drop of a hat.

So yeah. There was a first time for everything, he supposed…

Just then, the curtain covering the medbay opening was drawn back. April stepped out into the hallway, mercifully sparing him from this ridiculous spiral of doubt and anxiety.

The commander gently laid a hand on his shell. Her eyes, while half-lidded with exhaustion, shone with emotion, and her smile was soft.

"You ready, big guy?"

Raphael met her gaze and swallowed thickly before nodding once. With a grunt, he heaved himself upwards, then took a moment to steel himself.

April patted his bicep in understanding and encouragement, then flashed him one last smile before breezing past him and starting down the dim hallway in the opposite direction.

Now by himself, he took one last calming breath and gathered his courage. Ducking his head, he pushed aside the curtain and squeezed through the doorway. He blinked once, twice, and tried to let his eyes adjust.

Once his vision cleared, he saw him immediately—the child. Like a moth drawn to a flame, his gaze immediately flew to Donnie and the tiny bundle in his arms. His brother's signature gas mask was missing, replaced by a smile that was so rare to catch him with these days. His head was tilted down, and Raph's heart flipped when he heard him murmur something softly to the baby.

In the far corner of the room, Cassandra reclined in the nicest unoccupied bed, propped up by pillows. She appeared to be resting, but at Raph's approach, her eyes snapped open. After a heartbeat, though, she relaxed again and offered the huge snapper a tired smile.

Casting one last glance at Donnie, Raph shuffled forward and stood awkwardly next to Cass. Even after all these years, he never quite knew what to do—how to act—when someone he loved was laid up on a medbay cot.

After a moment, he settled on a lame, "Hey."

She snorted. "Hey, yourself."

"You good?"

"Oh yeah." She shifted herself on her pillows slightly. "Never better." Softly, she let out a breath, then closed her eyes. "Wish you'd been here, though."

Raph chuckled. If he'd had it his way, he would've stuck closer to base, but they hadn't exactly planned on needing to change diapers for another three more weeks. "Yeah, well... who would've guessed the little guy would have turned out to be as impatient as you, huh?"

"I did." A pause. "But you had to go. And you're here now. So. Stop procrastinating and get your dumbass over there and say hi, already."

She inclined her head toward Donnie and the baby, mischievousness setting her dark eyes alight. Raph huffed out a nervous laugh. By some miracle, he managed to unstick his feet from the floor and shuffle forwards.

Behind Donnie, Leo dozed in a chair against the wall, arms crossed and his chin tucked against his plastron. The slider was clearly exhausted, and Raph understood. Donnie had informed him that Leo had been up all night with Cassandra. It was just part of the job description for their resident medic—albeit a virtually unprecedented event.

When Raph was an arm's length from Donnie, the softshell briefly looked up and sent him a soft smirk before returning his attention to the infant. Timidly, he tried to peer around Donnie's arms, but found he couldn't see much around the blankets.

Donnie noticed, and rolled his eyes. Jerking his head behind him, he motioned for Raph to take a seat next to Leo, in the chair between him and the bed.

Raph complied. So as not to wake his brother or disturb Cass, he sat down as quietly as he could, but the spikes on his shell still scraped audibly against the wall.

Donnie procured a pillow and set it on Raph's lap. The snapper looked up at him, mouth open in a silent question.

"Want to try holding him?"

Oh. Duh. He nodded mutely.

Moving slowly and carefully, Donnie leaned in and gently lowered the little thing onto the pillow and into Raph's waiting hands. The babe would have practically fit into the palm of one of his scarred, calloused hands, but he instinctively cupped both around the little bundle protectively.

Tiny. Absolutely teeny. One of the smallest, wrinkliest little beings Raph had ever had the privilege to witness. Were… were all human babies this small, or just this one?

His eyes were closed, but he squirmed slightly as Raph gently brushed a thumb over his cheek. The hulking turtle gazed on in starry-eyed wonder, not able to take his eyes off the newborn. He was vaguely aware of Donnie hovering over the two of them still, keeping a close watch, but he paid him no mind.

"Hey there," he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. The baby yawned in response.

A warm, familiar, purposeful feeling bloomed in Raphael's chest. It was protectiveness, he knew that, but it was wildly different from the fearful, desperate response born in the middle of a battle, like when one of his brothers was under fire. It was more like… a promise. A commitment. A vow, made by himself and for himself, that from this moment forward, he would do anything, give anything he had, to make sure this kid made it. That he had everything he could ever need.

This boy's life was not going to be easy by any stretch of the imagination. Born amidst a war for the future of the earth, it was guaranteed. But in this moment, watching this infant sleep peacefully in his lap, he knew he would do whatever it took to make it go just a little bit better.

From beside him, Cass reached over and lightly brushed the back of her finger over the fine hair covering the baby's head, tenderly adjusted the blanket around his face.

"So?" she said softly. "What do you think?"

When Raph spoke, it was around a lump in his throat.

"... he's perfect."

[missmadella]

His Jacket, His Girl, His Forever (Mikey x Reader)

Summary: It started with a game. Just you and Emma rating the boys of Toman during a shrine meeting, giggling about who’s hottest and who gives the best hugs. You didn’t expect Mikey to overhear. And you definitely didn’t expect him to throw his jacket over your shoulders like a claim of territory.

Words: 12280

Warnings: Soft possessiveness, clingy Mikey, a few kisses that might steal your heart, and Emma being the best wingwoman.

You met Mikey because he stole your sandwich.

Not in a cool, movie-style theft where your eyes locked across a bustling convenience store or something. No. He just walked up, took one look at your lunch, and said:

"That looks better than mine."

Then he picked it up and took a bite.

It was a Tuesday.

You blinked at him, absolutely stunned. “Excuse me?”

He blinked back, still chewing. “You gonna eat the rest?”

You were standing outside the corner store you always stopped at after class. You didn’t know who he was — not yet — just that he was barefoot for some reason and wearing a school uniform that didn’t match any of the local schools. His face was too pretty for his attitude.

You stared at him. “Did you just rob me?”

Mikey grinned. “Technically, no. You’re still holding it.”

You looked down at your half-eaten sandwich. Then back at him.

“…Are you high?”

“Nope,” he said cheerfully, hands on his hips like he’d done nothing wrong. “Just hungry.”

You could’ve slapped him. You really could have. But then he tilted his head, sunlight hitting his eyes just right, and he smiled like someone who’d gotten away with worse.

“…You’re insane,” you muttered.

He beamed. “You’re fun. I’m Mikey.”

You didn’t give him your name. Not at first. But that didn’t stop him from showing up the next day.

And the next.

Turns out, Mikey was a bit of a legend — whether you wanted to hear it or not.

“Manjiro Sano,” Emma said when you finally brought it up. “Leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang.”

You nearly dropped your drink. “That’s Mikey?!”

She gave you a look. “You’ve been hanging out with him for two weeks and didn’t know?”

“To be fair,” you said, thinking of how he kept showing up barefoot to random convenience stores, “he doesn’t exactly scream ‘dangerous gang leader.’”

Emma raised a brow. “Tell that to the people he’s kicked unconscious.”

“…Right.”

But it was too late by then. You’d already kind of liked him.

Because Mikey wasn’t what you expected. Sure, he was unpredictable. Occasionally terrifying. Once made direct eye contact with you while eating an entire chocolate bar without chewing.

But he also made you laugh — a lot. He had the worst jokes. The best timing. He asked questions no one else thought to ask, like:

“Do you think ghosts get bored of haunting the same place?”

Or, your personal favorite:

“If I name a goldfish ‘Shinichiro,��� is that disrespectful or kind of sweet?”

Sometimes he said nothing at all. Just showed up, walked beside you, and shared whatever snack he was carrying — even if it was only one bite. (Sometimes especially if it was only one bite.)

And over time, you noticed things.

Like how he always waited for everyone else to eat before he touched his food. Or how his eyes drifted toward the sky when the conversation got too serious, like he was trying not to remember something.

He was strange. And reckless. And a little broken.

But he made you feel seen. And more importantly — he made you feel safe.

You didn’t know when you started holding his hand without thinking. Or when he stopped pretending you were just a friend.

But one night, when you handed him a sandwich without saying anything, he looked at it, then at you, and smiled that same dumb smile from the first day.

“…You remembered.”

“Of course I did,” you said, nudging him in the ribs. “But if you steal mine again, I’m breaking your legs.”

Mikey laughed — a real, unfiltered laugh — and leaned in close.

“Too late,” he whispered, stealing a bite anyway.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been a few weeks since Mikey had started hanging around you, and things between the two of you had definitely shifted. What started as random encounters — him stealing your food, offering random deep (and often nonsensical) questions, or showing up when you least expected it — turned into something more natural. He’d walk you home, sit next to you at the corner store, and always, always drag you to random places just because he felt like it.

But today, everything changed.

You were walking out of school, talking with Emma about the usual nonsense, when you noticed a guy from your class standing awkwardly near the gate. He was fiddling with his sleeves and looking like he was trying to work up the courage to speak.

You barely had time to process when he finally blurted out, “Hey, uh... I’ve been meaning to ask you something. Would you maybe... wanna go get coffee sometime?”

You blinked. “Um, sure...”

He grinned like he’d just won a prize. “Awesome! How about tomorrow?”

Before you could respond, the sound of roaring engines interrupted the moment. You turned, and there he was — Mikey, effortlessly gliding in on his bike, the wind ruffling his already messy hair as he slowed down in front of you. His eyes locked onto the guy immediately.

“Hey,” Mikey called out, his tone lazy but with a hard edge. The guy visibly tensed.

You watched in mild confusion as Mikey hopped off his bike, walked up to you, and stood way too close for comfort — his shoulder brushing yours like he owned the space between you. “You talkin’ to my girl?” he asked, his eyes flashing toward the guy with that signature smug smile.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard by Mikey’s sudden arrival and the intense, almost possessive vibe radiating off him. “Uh, I—”

“No need to answer,” Mikey cut him off, already turning to you with a grin. “I’ll take it from here, yeah?”

You raised an eyebrow, still processing the situation. “Mikey, what are you doing?”

“Claiming what’s mine.�� He winked at you, hands sliding into his pockets. “I’m picking you up every day now from today, by the way. It’s a Mikey thing.”

The guy looked between you two, clearly out of his depth, and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “Uh, okay, well... I guess I’ll... see you around?”

You sighed, stepping back as Mikey leaned down, resting his chin on your shoulder like he was too comfortable. “Nope,” Mikey called after the guy, giving him a half-hearted wave before turning his attention back to you. “Now, where were we?”

You were still caught off guard. “What just happened?”

Mikey let out a lazy laugh and nudged your shoulder with his. “Nothing much. Just making sure no one else thinks they can steal you away.” He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your cheek. “You’re mine.”

“Wait, really?” You were still trying to catch up, blinking at him.

He shrugged nonchalantly. “You were already mine the second you handed me your sandwich. Don’t act like you didn’t know.” He grinned at you. “So... how about it? I’ll walk you home, and then I can take you somewhere nice.”

You tried to suppress your smile. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it.”

With that, Mikey draped his arm around you and practically dragged you off, leaving the guy standing there, completely forgotten.

And from that day on, you had Mikey’s attention — a lot of it. In his own unique, clingy way, he was all yours.

___________________________________________________________________________

It was almost sunset when the low rumble of engines echoed through the quiet neighborhood, signaling the approach of the Tokyo Manji Gang.

You were already at Musashi Shrine, standing just off the path with Emma. The air smelled like burnt gasoline and cedarwood. Golden light filtered through the trees, catching on the backs of the approaching riders like something out of a movie.

“Look at them,” Emma said with a smirk, nudging your shoulder. “All dramatic and cool.”

“They’re just boys in matching jackets,” you replied, but even you knew it wasn’t true. There was something magnetic about the way they moved together — a reckless kind of unity.

The boys began filing up the steps toward the meeting spot, lining up in their usual formation. You saw Baji throw a punch at someone for a reason only he understood, and Mitsuya adjusting someone’s collar with tired precision.

And then — like clockwork — he found you.

Mikey didn’t walk. He drifted. One second, he was in front of the captains; the next, he was beside you, arms lazily draped over your shoulders like he was trying to become part of your outfit.

“There you are,” he said, like you were the one who’d been missing.

You blinked. “I’ve been here the whole time.”

“I know.” He leaned closer, tugging you back a step until your back bumped his chest. “But it feels longer when I’m not touching you.”

Emma made a choking noise beside you. “Oh my god.”

You ignored her and tilted your head. “Mikey—”

“Manjiro,” he corrected softly, so close to your ear it sent a little shiver down your neck.

You turned to glance at him, caught off guard by the seriousness in his tone. His eyes were half-lidded, that familiar sleepy look — but there was a flicker of something more focused underneath.

“…Manjiro,” you said carefully, testing the sound of it.

His smirk deepened.

Before you could say anything else, he leaned down and pressed a quick, stupidly soft kiss to your lips — right there in front of the whole damn world.

Not rough. Not teasing. Just gentle, quick, and unmistakably his.

Your breath caught in your throat.

He pulled back barely an inch, still close enough that his forehead nearly touched yours. “That’s better,” he murmured.

Emma wheezed. “I’m right here, you two!”

You shoved at his chest, your face suddenly way too warm. “Seriously?! Right before your big gangster meeting?!”

Mikey grinned. “Gives me good luck.”

“You’re gonna make them think I’m distracting you.”

“You are distracting,” he said, absolutely unbothered.

“Manjiro—!”

He kissed your cheek this time, slow and lingering. “Mmh. Say it again.”

“Stop being weird!” you hissed, trying to push him off — but he just hung on tighter, like a very smug, very clingy sloth.

“I like when you call me that,” he said, finally loosening his grip. “Only you, though. Everyone else sounds like a teacher.”

He finally stepped back, his fingers trailing from your hand like he didn’t quite want to let go yet. “Stay where I can see you, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Why? Gonna get jealous if someone makes eye contact with me?”

He grinned. “Maybe.”

Then, without waiting for an answer, he turned and walked toward the captains, completely casual — as if he hadn’t just publicly kissed his girlfriend like it was a holy ritual.

Emma leaned in with wide eyes. “So. How does it feel being claimed like territory?”

You smacked her arm. “Shut up.”

__________________________________________________________________________

The sun was starting to dip behind the trees, casting long shadows over the shrine grounds as the Tokyo Manji Gang settled into their usual positions. Mikey, ever the casual leader, was already at the center, chatting with Draken and the other captains. The air around them was tense, full of gang business that you really didn’t want to hear about.

You and Emma were sitting off to the side, legs dangling from the stone platform as you watched the boys talk shop. You could barely make out the words — something about territory and rival gangs — but honestly, the topic wasn’t new. It was the same stuff they always talked about.

Mikey, however, had a different agenda.

You were scrolling through your phone, trying to distract yourself, when you felt the familiar weight of his jacket being draped over your shoulders. You froze, glancing up just in time to see him flash a lazy grin at you from across the group.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, blinking at him.

“Making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” Mikey replied casually, shoving his hands into his pockets as he leaned against a tree. “Don’t want anyone getting any ideas.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Mikey’s “possessive” side had always been cheeky, but something about his calm expression and the weight of his jacket made it feel more real this time.

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He winked. “What? You’re my girl. I gotta make sure they all know.”

Emma, who was sitting next to you, let out a dramatic sigh. “Mikey’s so whipped. It’s kind of adorable.”

“Emma,” you whispered, nudging her with your elbow, but she was already grinning from ear to ear.

Mikey overheard and grinned back at her, giving a half-shrug. “I’m not whipped. I’m just... protective.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. Mikey was unpredictable, a wild mix of playful and possessive, but you liked it. You liked him.

As the conversation droned on, you felt your attention starting to wander. It wasn’t that you didn’t care about Toman’s plans, but right now, it was just a bunch of boys talking in circles about turf wars and rival gangs. You glanced at Emma, who was already bored out of her mind.

 “What do you think?” you whispered. “Want to play the game again?”

Emma grinned mischievously. “I’m so in. But let’s make it more interesting.”

You glanced at Mikey, who was still fully engaged in the meeting, arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on Baji as he ranted about something. He didn’t notice the playful glint in your eye. Perfect.

“Alright, let’s do it. First question, who’s the most dramatic in Toman?” you asked, keeping your voice low.

Emma grinned mischievously. “Baji. No contest.”

You couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah, he’s always throwing tantrums like he’s the main character in a soap opera.”

You glanced at Mikey again. He was still oblivious, but you could feel him shifting a little closer to you. That clinginess of his was getting real obvious.

“And... who’s the most secretly emotional?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. You weren’t going for anything too serious, just something fun to see how she’d respond.

Emma tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Draken. He’s always trying to hide it, but you know the guy’s a softie.”

You looked over at Draken, who was standing with his arms folded, looking like the stoic rock of the group. “Hmm, you’re right. You can tell he’s got a heart of gold hidden under all that tough guy exterior.”

“Okay, okay,” Emma continued. “Now... who’s the most likely to cry during a movie?”

You glanced at Mikey, who was fiddling with his phone, sitting back on the stone steps like he owned the place. Without missing a beat, you answered, “Mikey.”

Emma raised an eyebrow, amused. “Really?”

You shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he watches a movie? He gets emotional over the smallest things.”

Emma laughed. “I’ll take your word for it.”

You leaned in closer, trying to stifle your laugh. “Alright, next one — who’s the worst cook in Toman?”

This time, Emma didn’t hesitate. “Mikey. He can’t even make toast without burning it.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “He once tried to make instant ramen, and the kitchen smelled like smoke for hours.”

Emma raised her eyebrows, laughing quietly. “He’s definitely not winning any cooking awards. I bet he doesn’t even know how to make eggs.”

You glanced over at Mikey just as he casually draped his arm over your shoulder again, pulling you closer like he was very aware of what you were talking about. “What are you two gossiping about over here?”

You gave him your most innocent look. “Oh, nothing. Just discussing your many... talents.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed playfully, his lips twitching into a grin. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

You winked at him. “You’re really bad at cooking.”

He feigned shock, but his grin grew. “I can cook just fine, thank you very much. But, I guess if you don’t like my cooking, I’ll just have to feed you from now on.”

“Oh? You’re volunteering?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.

Mikey’s eyes lit up with mischief. “Of course. I’m a man of many talents.” He leaned in a little closer. “You’re gonna love my cooking... or my effort at it.”

Emma stifled a laugh and glanced at you. “I love how he thinks he’s so charming.”

You smirked. “He’s adorable, but that doesn’t mean I’m not going to roast him when it comes to the kitchen.”

Mikey gave you a playful nudge, pretending to be offended. “I’m taking this jacket back, then. No more claiming you in front of everyone.”

“Try it, and I’ll keep it,” you shot back, leaning into him.

Mikey’s eyes flicked over to the group briefly, sensing that the meeting was winding down, and then whispered, “I’m not done yet. You can’t escape me.”

You laughed quietly, shifting your focus back to Emma, who was trying to contain her giggles.

“Alright, last question,” you said, winking at Emma. “Who’s most likely to start a fight over something stupid?”

Emma didn’t think twice. “Mikey. Hands down. He’d fight someone for the last piece of candy.”

You blinked at her. “Wait... really?”

Emma shrugged. “I mean, have you seen him when he's hangry?”

You felt Mikey’s grip tighten on your shoulder, a sly grin forming on his face as he overheard the conversation.

“That’s not true,” he said smoothly, leaning down to kiss your temple, his voice suddenly low and teasing. “I’d never fight for candy.”

You shot him a playful glare. “Oh really?”

He winked at you, voice still soft. “Okay, maybe for candy. Or, you know, you. I’d fight anyone for you.”

Before you could retort, the meeting was starting to wrap up, and Mikey shot one last smug look at the gang. He seemed far more interested in you than anything going on in the meeting.

“Guess we’re done here, huh?” Mikey said, standing up and pulling you with him. “Time to take my girl home.”

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically. “I’m pretty sure you’re the reason the meeting’s done.”

You laughed as Mikey gave Emma a playful, unbothered grin. “She’s right. You’re welcome.”

You snatched up his jacket and stood up, wrapping it around yourself like a shield from the cold. “And here I thought you were the dramatic one.”

Mikey winked, slinging an arm around you as you both made your way down the stairs. “Who else would do it better?”

Emma shook her head but smiled. “You two are impossible.”

“Yeah,” you said, grinning up at Mikey. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had finally wrapped up, the last bit of gang business taken care of. Mikey, as always, had been the first to disengage, already bouncing on his heels and ready to drag you away. His arm was still comfortably draped around your shoulders, his fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his jacket, which was now wrapped snugly around you.

“So, where are we going?” you asked, teasing him. He hadn’t even asked you where you wanted to go — it was as if the choice was already made for you.

“Wherever I want, obviously,” Mikey replied, giving you a cheeky grin. “I’m the leader, remember?”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the smile on your face. Mikey was so Mikey — goofy, possessive, and absolutely confident. It was hard not to laugh at his antics.

Emma caught up with you both, waving you off with a grin. “I’ll see you two later. Don’t kill each other over lunch or something.”

“You’re welcome to join us!” Mikey called after her, but Emma just laughed and shook her head.

“Nah, I think I’ll leave you two lovebirds to it. Enjoy fighting over where to eat.”

You shot Emma a quick look, mouthing “Thanks for the backup” as she walked off, leaving you with Mikey. He was already pulling you in a direction that you couldn’t quite place.

“So, where are we really going?” you asked, a little more curious now.

Mikey just shrugged, leading you through the streets with that same carefree attitude. “Wherever. I don’t know. As long as you’re with me, I’m good.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, looking at him sideways. “You really are impossible.”

He glanced over at you, his eyes narrowing in mock offense. “Impossible? I prefer the term ‘unpredictably fun.’”

You snorted. “Yeah, okay. Sure.”

Mikey didn’t let up, pulling you into a nearby cafe. It was one of those quiet little places tucked away from the hustle and bustle. He always seemed to know the best spots. Mikey led you straight to the counter, practically ordering for you without asking. The staff knew him by name — of course they did — and they didn’t even bat an eye at his antics.

When you got your food, Mikey insisted on sitting beside you in the most obnoxious, over-the-top way. He draped his arm around the back of your chair like he was marking his territory, then casually placed his drink next to yours, making sure it was as close as humanly possible.

You glanced at him, half amused and half exhausted from his clinginess. “Mikey, really?”

“What?” he asked innocently, as if nothing was unusual. “You’re my girl. I gotta be close.”

You shook your head, but it was impossible to stay mad at him. Even though his possessiveness was overwhelming, it was... endearing. In his own Mikey way, he really cared.

As you ate, you couldn’t help but let the conversation wander back to the game you and Emma had played earlier. Mikey had been half-listening to your banter with Emma, but now he seemed to be picking up on the teasing.

“So, I’m the most dramatic and the worst cook, huh?” he asked, his voice teasing. “I’m hurt.”

You smirked, giving him a sideways glance. “You know, you could’ve at least tried to cook for me.”

Mikey shrugged as he took a sip of his drink. “I’d burn the kitchen down. You’re lucky I just buy you food instead.”

“Well, if you can’t cook, then what is your talent, Mikey?” you teased.

His grin grew wider. “Everything.” He leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice. “But my real talent is making you happy.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the fond smile tugging at your lips. “You’re too much sometimes, you know that?”

“I know,” Mikey replied, his voice a soft hum. He raised his glass and made a toast with you. “But you wouldn’t want it any other way.”

You clinked your glass against his, the light reflecting off the surface as you smiled. “Maybe not.”

The two of you sat in comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s company. It was one of those moments where everything felt right — where Mikey’s energy wasn’t overwhelming, just... comforting.

After a few minutes, Mikey suddenly leaned back in his chair, his gaze turning to you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Alright, next round of the game. Who’s the most ridiculous in Toman?”

You smirked, already knowing the answer. “You, obviously.”

Mikey sat up straight, his expression mock-hurt. “Me? Ridiculous? I’ll have you know I’m a pillar of wisdom and sophistication.”

You snorted. “Yeah, sure. You’re like a walking disaster waiting to happen.”

He grinned widely. “Exactly. And you love it.”

You couldn’t argue with that. Mikey had a way of making his chaos seem so charming.

The conversation shifted, and Mikey got more playful, asking questions about who could really take him down in a fight, who would survive a zombie apocalypse, and even who in Toman had the worst fashion sense (to which Mikey had been quick to answer, “Definitely me, because I’m too stylish to even handle.”)

But by the end of the day, as the sun began to set, Mikey had you laughing and smiling in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

His clinginess, his silly personality, and his never-ending ability to make you the center of his world — it was impossible not to fall for him even harder.

“So,” Mikey said as you both strolled back toward the familiar streets of your neighborhood, “about that date... I’m taking you out again soon. No excuses.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re not letting me say no, are you?”

“Never,” Mikey replied, his voice full of conviction. “You’re mine.”

With that, you laughed, feeling the warmth of his presence wash over you again. “I guess I am.”

And just like that, Mikey claimed you, not just with his words, but with his laughter, his quirky charm, and that clingy little streak of his that made him impossible to resist.

___________________________________________________________________________

The moonlight bled through the half-open curtains, painting the room in soft silver. Everything was still — the house, the street, the city. Except for Mikey.

He couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t anything new. Sometimes the quiet felt too loud in his head, and he’d lie there with his arms crossed behind his head, staring at the ceiling and thinking about things he didn’t really like to think about.

But tonight was different. You were there. Curled up in his bed with one of his pillows half-hugged and his gang jacket still wrapped around your shoulders.

He hadn’t meant for you to fall asleep in it. You’d just been hanging around after the shrine meeting, teasing him about his bad cooking and trying to steal the last rice cracker. You’d both ended up watching some old anime on his laptop, but while he was talking at full speed, you’d started nodding off.

Now, the only sound in the room was your quiet breathing.

Mikey turned on his side and watched you for a minute. The jacket looked huge on you — sleeves long enough to cover your hands, the collar a bit too wide, but it was warm and soft and unmistakably his.

A lazy smile crept onto his face.

“You look good in my jacket, y’know that?” he whispered, even though you probably weren’t awake. “Too good, actually. Kinda makes me wanna put another one on you. Just to be sure people really get the message.”

You stirred slightly, murmuring something sleepy and unintelligible, pulling the jacket closer around yourself like a blanket.

Mikey reached out, gently brushing some hair away from your face, voice even softer now. “You’re dangerous, [Name]. You make me soft.”

There wasn’t a trace of teasing in his tone now — just something quieter, more real.

“I could fight a hundred guys with a smile on my face, but the second you look at me like that, I forget how to act.”

His hand hovered near yours, not quite touching, just... close.

“You make this world feel like it’s not so heavy sometimes.”

You shifted again, eyes fluttering open for just a second. “...Manjiro?”

Mikey froze for a second, then leaned in a little with a lopsided smile. “Hey. Didn’t mean to wake you.”

You blinked slowly, voice drowsy and muffled. “You’re staring.”

“You’re wearing my jacket,” he said simply, like that explained everything.

You gave him a sleepy look. “...You’re weird.”

Mikey laughed softly under his breath. “Takes one to love one.”

You smiled faintly, eyes already drifting closed again. “You’re clingy...”

“And you like it,” he replied, smug.

Before you could argue, Mikey leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then one to your lips — soft and careful, as if even half-asleep, you were something precious.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispered. “Now go back to sleep. I’ll stay up and guard you from the nightmares.”

You mumbled something about “being dramatic,” but Mikey just smiled and pulled the blanket up around your shoulders, letting you melt back into rest with his jacket wrapped tight around you — the clearest mark that you were his.

And in that quiet room, under the weight of moonlight and his own feelings, Mikey finally let himself breathe a little easier.

___________________________________________________________________________

You felt the shift in the bed before you even opened your eyes.

Mikey had moved. Not far, just enough for you to feel the absence of his warmth next to you. The room was still wrapped in shadows, the sky outside that deep pre-dawn blue that only appeared when the world was holding its breath between night and morning.

You mumbled into your pillow. “Manjiro?”

“Right here,” he answered softly from the edge of the bed, where he was lacing up his boots — already dressed in that half-wrinkled, “I woke up like this” biker look he pulled off way too easily.

You yawned and rolled over slowly, still wrapped in his jacket like a cocoon. “Why are you up? It’s not even light out.”

He turned his head slightly, gave you that small smile — the one that looked like he knew something you didn’t. “I couldn’t sleep.”

You blinked at him. “Again?”

He stood up, walked over to your side, crouching by the bed so he was level with your sleepy face. His hair was a little messy, eyes warm but bright with something restless.

“Wanna go for a ride?”

You stared at him, still half-asleep. “Right now?”

“Yeah,” he said, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just you and me. City’s empty this early. You’ll like it.”

You snorted, burying your face into his jacket collar. “You know I was planning to skip school today anyway…”

Mikey grinned like that was exactly the answer he’d expected. “So, that’s a yes?”

You let out a long breath, then dragged yourself upright, hair tousled, eyes still a little heavy. “Yeah, okay. Just let me brush my teeth so you don’t crash the bike from second-hand sleep breath.”

He laughed, actually laughed, and leaned forward to press a kiss to your cheek before you shuffled toward the bathroom.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting behind him on his bike, arms wrapped around his waist, the wind already picking up even though the sun hadn’t risen yet. The city was dead quiet, the roads almost too open — like it all belonged to the two of you.

You pressed your cheek against his back, still a little drowsy but content.

“You sure you’re not just using this as an excuse to keep me all to yourself?” you asked over the hum of the engine.

Mikey didn’t turn his head, but you could hear the grin in his voice. “Absolutely.”

You chuckled, holding on a little tighter. “Figures.”

As the wind rushed past you and the horizon slowly turned from deep blue to gold, Mikey sped up just a little — not recklessly, but enough to make your heart lift.

The city may have been asleep, but you weren’t.

Not with him.

And in that moment, wrapped in his jacket, hands on his ribs, heartbeat steady against your own — it felt like nothing could touch the two of you.

___________________________________________________________________________

The roar of the engine softened as Mikey finally slowed, pulling the bike to a stop near the edge of the wide riverbank. The sun was just beginning to rise, streaks of orange and pale gold bleeding across the sky like watercolors. The city was still far off in the distance, quiet and untouched.

You blinked against the light, stretching as you climbed off the bike, your fingers brushing against his back for balance.

“Where…?” you started to ask, but Mikey just glanced over his shoulder and gave you a half-smile.

“My favorite spot,” he said. “No one really comes out here. ‘Cept Draken sometimes, but he sleeps more than you do.”

You scoffed. “I don’t sleep that much.”

“You slept through me putting your shoes on,” he deadpanned, clearly amused. “Like a toddler.”

You glared at him, but your sleepy pout only made him grin wider. “Okay, fair.”

The river shimmered under the rising sun, its slow current gliding past with a peaceful rhythm. It wasn’t flashy — just still water, a crumbling concrete ledge, and an old vending machine nearby. But the moment you took a breath and let the quiet sink in, you understood.

There was something healing about it. It felt like time slowed down here.

Mikey sat down on the ledge and patted the space beside him. “C’mere.”

You dropped beside him, pulling his jacket tighter around your frame as the breeze picked up. He was still watching the water, eyes distant but soft.

“This is where I come when everything gets too loud,” he said after a long moment. “Gang stuff, family stuff… even my own thoughts sometimes. Out here, it’s just quiet. Real quiet.”

You nodded, not needing to say anything. The silence between you wasn’t awkward. It was grounding.

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. “You ever get that too? Just wanna… vanish for a bit?”

You smiled faintly. “All the time. That’s why I said yes to this, even half-asleep.”

He chuckled. “Guess we both needed it, huh?”

Another silence settled in — comfortable, easy — until Mikey turned to face you completely.

“You really do look good in my jacket,” he murmured again, but this time with more meaning behind it. “Like you belong in it. Like you belong with me.”

You tilted your head. “That a confession, Manjiro?”

He grinned. “No, that was a statement. The confession happened when I stole that kiss back at the school.”

You laughed under your breath. “Right. Forgot how bold you are.”

“I’m just honest,” he said, eyes never leaving yours now. “I want you in my life. Every day. In my jacket, on my bike, next to me at meetings — all of it. So yeah, maybe I’m clingy. But I’ve already decided.”

You raised an eyebrow, amused and touched. “Decided what?”

He leaned in just a little, voice low but firm. “That you’re mine.”

There it was again — Mikey’s bluntness. He never said things halfway. But his voice carried something steadier now. No joke, no teasing — just truth.

You looked at him for a moment, heart a little full, then gently rested your head on his shoulder.

“Took you long enough to say it like that,” you whispered.

Mikey let out a soft breath of a laugh, his arm coming around your waist. “Yeah, yeah. I get there eventually.”

You stayed like that for a while, watching the sun rise over the water, wrapped in his warmth, the silence holding you both in place. And even though the world would get loud again — school, gang drama, real life — this moment was yours.

Just you and Mikey, where it was quiet.

Where everything made sense.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were both quiet again, the sun now fully risen and casting a warm, golden glow across the water. Mikey’s arm was still lazily draped around your waist, and your head rested lightly against his shoulder. It was one of those rare, slow mornings where the whole world seemed to hush just for you two.

Then, softly—almost like it slipped out—Mikey murmured, “I wanna marry you someday.”

You blinked, lifting your head slightly to see if he was joking. But he wasn’t looking at you. His gaze was still fixed on the water, eyes unreadable for a second. There was no smirk, no laugh waiting behind his lips. Just quiet certainty.

“I mean it,” he continued, a little softer now. “Not right away or anything. Just… I’ve never really thought about the future like that. Not until you.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest. He didn’t say things like this often — not without a joke in his tone, not without that cheeky grin. But now he was just... honest. Serious in a way that made your breath catch.

You looked down for a second, cheeks flushing with warmth you couldn’t hide even if you wanted to. Then you smiled, wide and real, and reached for his hand.

“I can’t wait for that,” you whispered, eyes shining. “You, me, someday? That sounds perfect.”

Mikey finally looked at you then — and he beamed. Like he’d just won the world’s biggest prize. He kissed your hand, then stood up and offered his, the jacket falling perfectly into place over your shoulders again.

“Come on,” he said, that teasing sparkle returning to his eyes. “Let’s get breakfast. Or whatever meal it is when you skip school before it even starts.”

You laughed, taking his hand. “Sounds like a plan, fiancé.”

His grin? Dangerous.

“You better not say that around Draken. He’ll faint.”

___________________________________________________________________________

You were walking back through a narrow side street, heading toward a place Mikey swore had the “best melonpan in Tokyo,” when you turned a corner and—

“Oi,” a rough voice called out. “That jacket…”

You both paused.

A small group of older teens — four, maybe five guys — loitered near the vending machines, all wearing mismatched leather and chains. They weren’t Toman. Not even close.

One of them, clearly the leader, stepped forward with a sneer.

“That’s the Tokyo Manji Gang’s uniform, isn’t it?” he said, looking straight at you. “Don’t tell me they’ve got little girlfriends doing their laundry now.”

Mikey didn’t flinch. But he did step just slightly to the side, like he was getting ready to put himself between you and them.

You placed a hand lightly on his arm.

“I got this,” you said calmly.

He blinked. “What?”

You shrugged off his jacket slowly, folded it once, and handed it to him. Then you stepped forward, cracking your knuckles.

The leader scoffed. “What the hell are you—?”

You moved before he could finish the sentence — ducking low, sweeping his legs out with a sharp, practiced kick. He hit the ground with a surprised grunt, and before the others could even react, you’d already dropped two more with precise, fluid strikes.

Mikey stood there — wide-eyed, holding his own jacket — watching as you took out the last guy with a clean elbow to the gut and a twist that sent him sprawling.

You brushed your hands off casually, turned, and walked back to him like it was nothing.

“Sorry,” you said, slipping his jacket back on, still a little breathless. “Didn’t wanna get it dirty.”

Mikey stared at you.

Then blinked.

Then grinned — slow and completely floored.

“…Okay,” he said, sounding slightly dazed. “That was… hot.”

You laughed, grabbing his hand again. “Come on, melonpan, remember?”

He followed you wordlessly for a moment, then muttered under his breath, “I have to marry you.”

You just smiled to yourself, tugging him along.

___________________________________________________________________________

The smell of warm melonpan filled the air as you and Mikey sat down at a small, nearly-empty café just outside the neighborhood. The place had a cozy, nostalgic feel — the kind of place that wasn’t flashy, just serving good food. Mikey slouched a little in his seat, looking content, but there was still something in his eyes — a curiosity that hadn’t left since the moment you’d knocked out those guys in the alley.

You sipped your drink, watching him with a raised eyebrow. “What?”

Mikey leaned forward, his eyes wide with genuine interest. “You really didn’t even break a sweat. And it wasn’t like you were messing around either. You took ‘em down like… you’ve done it a thousand times.”

You bit your lip, setting your cup down. “I’ve had my share of… situations. You know, self-defense stuff.”

He nodded slowly, his face softening. “Yeah, but... why didn’t you tell me?”

You smiled a little, leaning back in your chair. “I guess I didn’t think it was that important.”

“Important?” Mikey leaned in, voice getting a little more intense. “You kicked their asses! You’re not just some random girl in my life, [Name]. You’re, well, you’re my girl and I… don’t like people messing with you.”

You felt your heart flutter a bit at the possessiveness in his voice. Even if it came across a bit bluntly, you knew it came from a good place.

“Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” you teased, “But I’ll keep the really big fights for you.”

Mikey paused for a moment, his eyes softening, and he grinned. “I’m still amazed. Like… that was amazing. Seriously, I wasn’t even expecting that.”

You laughed, feeling a bit embarrassed, but also proud of your skills. “You never asked, Mikey. You just assumed I couldn’t take care of myself.”

He pouted for a second, clearly teasing. “Well, I’m a little slow sometimes.”

“Just a little?” You raised an eyebrow, and Mikey burst out laughing.

“Okay, okay, a lot. But still, that was so cool,” he said, still looking at you in awe. “I gotta say, I like knowing you’ve got my back, even when I don’t see it coming.”

“Well,” you smiled softly, “we’re in this together. Always.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The shrine was the usual spot for Toman meetings — surrounded by the tranquil beauty of the stone steps and the rising mist from the morning dew. The gang was already gathering, sitting on the steps and the edge of the stone platforms, awaiting Mikey’s arrival.

The air was cool, the distant sound of city life buzzing in the background, but at this time of morning, the world felt quiet. Almost serene, in a way.

You had arrived with Mikey, still wearing his jacket, your presence drawing a few curious glances from the gang as you approached.

Mikey seemed unbothered by it. If anything, he was grinning, his arm slung casually over your shoulder. His pride was practically radiating off of him, and you could tell he was practically bursting to share what had happened earlier.

“Alright, alright,” Mikey began as you both reached the group, a playful edge to his voice. “So, before we get into anything important… I gotta say something.”

Draken, sitting at the top of the stairs, shot Mikey a look. “What now?”

“I’ve gotta introduce you guys to the best fighter in the gang.” Mikey’s grin was mischievous. “The one who wiped the floor with five random punks today. [Name].”

There was a beat of silence before everyone burst out into laughter. Takemichi, ever the worried one, was the first to speak.

“You’re joking, right? There’s no way—”

Mikey’s grin only widened. “No joke. She took them down like she was born for it.”

The others turned to you, eyes wide with disbelief, and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “It wasn’t a big deal, guys. Just some guys talking crap.”

Draken, not one to back down from a challenge, raised an eyebrow. “Really? You’re telling me you just knocked out five guys?”

You shrugged, feeling the nervous tension of all their stares. “I’ve had some training, that’s all.”

Emma, who had tagged along after your girls’ trip, chuckled as she leaned against a nearby pillar. “She’s being modest.”

“Self-defense, huh?” Mitsuya asked, clearly intrigued, eyeing you with a mix of respect and curiosity. “That’s impressive.”

You gave a slight nod. “Yeah, well, I’ve had to learn a few things. Just in case.”

The air shifted slightly — more respect, more admiration — and even Draken gave you an approving nod. “Guess we’ve got a real badass on our hands.”

Mikey, still standing next to you, looked absolutely thrilled. His eyes sparkled as he turned to the group. “You guys know how I like my gang, right? Strong, loyal, but also…” He let the words hang in the air, his grin widening. “...Not afraid to kick some ass. And now we’ve got a legit fighter on our side.”

The boys seemed impressed, and as the conversation moved forward, Mikey’s pride never seemed to wane. He kept leaning closer to you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow or stealing a glance at you, like he couldn’t stop showing off his girl.

It wasn’t long before Mikey finally sat down, pulling you onto the step beside him.

The gang had fallen into their usual chatter, but Mikey’s attention was still on you, his fingers lightly brushing against your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “You’ve really been riding the high from this, huh?”

Mikey grinned, looking almost like a kid on Christmas. “You’re my girl. Of course I’m proud.”

You rolled your eyes, though your heart was warm from his excitement. “I wasn’t trying to impress anyone.”

“Well, you didn’t have to,” Mikey said, his voice low but with that familiar cheekiness. “You’ve already impressed me.”

Before you could respond, Draken walked over, looking between you both with that big, knowing grin on his face.

“Alright, Mikey,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve got your fighter. Now we just gotta keep her from running the whole damn gang, huh?”

The others, who had gathered near the steps, started chuckling.

Mikey just smirked, his eyes never leaving you. “Nah. She’s just gonna make sure no one messes with us.”

You shot Mikey a playful look. “You’re really not going to let this go, huh?”

“Not a chance,” Mikey said, squeezing your hand gently.

___________________________________________________________________________

As the meeting began to progress, more questions started popping up. The group was still buzzing about your fight. You hadn’t expected this kind of attention, but it was fun to see everyone’s reactions.

“Alright, but seriously, what kind of training are we talking about here?” Takemichi asked, leaning in as if trying to figure out your secret. “You can’t just become that good overnight.”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “Boxing, some martial arts… a little bit of everything. Just wanted to make sure I can protect myself.”

Emma, always the one with a mischievous edge, nudged you with a smile. “You know, Mikey’s a little territorial, huh? Think he’ll keep the boys in line for you?”

“Stop it, Emma,” Mikey grumbled, though his eyes were still twinkling as he shot a look at you. “I don’t need to keep anyone in line. Not when she’s got it handled.”

Draken just shook his head, a grin tugging at his lips. “You guys are something else. Never thought I’d see Mikey all proud of his girl like this.”

Mikey puffed out his chest, not in arrogance but in pure pride. “She’s not just any girl. She’s my girl.”

The entire group seemed to settle into a comfortable quiet, respect mingling with that familiar teasing atmosphere. Mikey wasn’t just proud of you for your strength. It was everything you were — the way you fit into Toman, how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic world, yet still stood out. And Mikey? He was absolutely, unapologetically in love with that.

You leaned into his shoulder, letting the peaceful quiet settle around you again.

"Guess we're all in this together now," you murmured, a slight grin tugging at your lips.

"Always," Mikey said, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “Now, let’s get this meeting over with.

__________________________________________________________________________

The meeting had officially fallen apart.

It started small — just you and Emma whispering to each other at the edge of the group while Draken tried his best to keep the meeting serious. But then you laughed. Loud enough that heads turned.

That’s when Mikey narrowed his eyes.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, lounging beside you but already suspicious.

Emma leaned over, hand cupped around her mouth. “We’re playing ‘Toman Superlatives.’”

“...What?”

You grinned. “It’s like… ‘who would survive a zombie apocalypse,’ or ‘who has main character energy.’ That kinda thing.”

“You’re doing this during my meeting?”

“It’s Draken’s meeting,” Emma corrected.

Draken, overhearing, raised an eyebrow. “I don’t want it either.”

“Carry on,” Mikey said, waving a hand like a bored emperor — but leaning closer like he very much wanted to hear your answers.

Emma smirked. “Okay, okay—next one. Who’s most likely to cry at a sad movie?”

You pointed. “Takemichi.”

“WHY ME?!” Takemichi shouted from the sidelines.

Everyone nodded.

“Okay but true,” Chifuyu said, patting his back. “You cried at Spirited Away, bro.”

“It was emotional!” Takemichi protested.

Emma grinned. “Alright, who gives the best hugs?”

You tapped your chin, eyes flicking across the group. “Draken. He’s tall and warm. I feel like he smells nice.”

Draken blinked. “...Thanks?”

Mikey’s head whipped toward you. “Excuse me?!”

“You don’t smell like anything, Mikey,” you said sweetly.

“I smell like power and mystery,” he deadpanned.

“Power and mystery smells like gasoline and melon bread,” you teased.

The gang cackled. Even Draken cracked a smile.

Emma was dying, holding onto your arm. “Okay, okay—this one’s good. Who would be the most dramatic if their crush didn’t text back right away?”

Everyone pointed at Mikey.

He looked personally offended. “ME?! I don’t even text! I show up.”

“Exactly,” you said. “You showed up at my classroom window once because I didn’t answer.”

“You left me on read,” he said defensively.

“It was five minutes, Mikey.”

“Too long.”

More laughter rippled through the gang, and for once, even Mitsuya chuckled behind his usual calm smile.

Emma leaned in again, eyes twinkling. “Who’s most likely to flirt without realizing it?”

“Smiley,” you and Emma said in sync.

“He absolutely knows what he’s doing,” Mitsuya added. “He just pretends he doesn’t.”

Smiley raised his hands innocently. “I’m charming. It’s a problem.”

Mikey leaned toward you again. “Okay, your turn. Who would you call first if you were in trouble?”

You paused.

The teasing faded for just a second. You looked at Mikey — the way he was watching you, clearly waiting for the answer.

Your smile softened. “You.”

He blinked. “Me?”

“You’d be there in a second,” you said. “No questions asked. No matter what.”

The silence that followed was warm. No one teased. No one joked.

Mikey’s expression relaxed, his cheeky energy softening just enough to let the affection shine through.

“Damn right,” he said quietly, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his jacket up on you again. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”

Emma leaned against you, smiling. “Okay, but you still didn’t pick him for hottest.”

“I am the hottest,” Mikey muttered.

“Still Mitsuya,” you said under your breath.

“I heard that!”

The boys laughed again, and you nestled into Mikey’s side, his arm curling around your waist like it was second nature.

The meeting may have started serious, but this — these moments, with jokes, teasing, and your fingers brushing against his — this was what family felt like in Toman.

And you were finally, completely part of it.

___________________________________________________________________________

The meeting finally broke apart, boys peeling off in pairs, loud voices fading into the evening air as they headed toward their bikes. You and Mikey lingered behind, walking down the long stone steps with his hand loosely curled around your wrist.

He hadn’t said much since the game ended.

That should’ve been your first clue.

You glanced at him — he wasn’t pouting exactly, but his mouth was pressed in that little line it made when he was pretending something didn’t bother him. His eyes were fixed ahead, lashes low, but you could feel the shift in energy like static.

“…You good?”

“Yep.”

Liar.

You stepped in front of him, halting him just before the last step. “You’re mad I didn’t say you were the hottest, aren’t you?”

He looked away with exaggerated disinterest. “I said I’m fine.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Manjirō.”

He finally looked at you — pout fully formed now. “I’m your boyfriend and you said Mitsuya.”

You tried not to smile. “Because Mitsuya is handsome.”

“Yeah, but I’m me,” he said, as if that alone should’ve won every category. “Your me.”

You laughed softly, stepping closer and brushing his hair back from his eyes. “You want me to kiss it better?”

His ears turned pink. “...Maybe.”

So you did.

Right there on the bottom step, you leaned in and pressed the softest kiss to the corner of his pouty mouth — then another, right on his lips. Slow and warm and full of something that made his hand tighten around your wrist again.

When you pulled back, his cheeks were a little red.

“Better?” you whispered.

He hummed. “One more. Just in case.”

You laughed again, but gave it to him — and this time, he pulled you with him as he turned and walked toward his bike, hand still wrapped firmly around your wrist like he wasn’t letting go ever again.

His motorbike was leaned against a tree near the edge of the shrine path, moonlight glinting off the chrome. You’d barely turned your head to look at it before Mikey tugged you in, sitting on the seat and pulling you between his legs with ease.

You rested your hands on his shoulders. “We’re not going yet, are we?”

“Nah,” he mumbled, arms sliding around your waist. “Just wanna sit with you.”

He leaned forward, head pressing to your stomach, sighing like he’d finally gotten what he wanted. Your fingers threaded through his hair automatically, soft and slow.

“You’re really that offended?”

“I’m not offended,” he muttered into your hoodie. “I just wanted you to say I’m hot.”

“You’re hot,” you said without missing a beat.

“Too late.”

“Mikey.”

He looked up, chin resting against your ribs. “I forgive you,” he said seriously. “But only if you ride with me tomorrow.”

You grinned. “Was planning to.”

His smile softened, hands still locked around your waist, holding you there like you might float away.

“You look good like this,” he said quietly. “With my jacket. With me.”

Your heart stuttered — again. He always did that. Just when you thought he was done being serious, he slipped in something so soft it nearly knocked the breath out of you.

“I like being yours, y’know,” you whispered.

He tilted his head. “Yeah?”

You bent down, kissed his forehead gently. “Yeah.”

He looked like he was trying not to smile too wide — but failing.

“Then stay a little longer.”

You didn’t need to answer. You just curled into his lap, his jacket big enough to cover you both from the cool night air, the sounds of engines echoing in the distance, and the warmth of Mikey’s arms around you making the shrine feel like your own little world.

___________________________________________________________________________

The sky was still painted in sleepy pinks and quiet oranges when your phone buzzed.

[Mikey💀] "Outside. Get on. We’re skipping school."

You blinked at the message, then peeked out your window.

There he was.

Leaning against his prized motorbike, arms crossed, the wind tossing his blond hair slightly, looking way too proud of himself for someone who probably hadn’t slept more than four hours. His uniform jacket hung lazily off his shoulders, and his helmet dangled from two fingers like a promise.

Of trouble. And something softer.

You didn’t even hesitate.

By the time you slipped out your door, Mikey’s eyes lit up like you were the sunrise itself.

He held out the helmet immediately. “You took too long. I almost came up and carried you out.”

“You would’ve,” you said flatly.

“I should’ve,” he said, helping you clip the strap under your chin, his fingers brushing your jaw like he had to touch you.

“Where are we going?”

He smirked. “Wherever you want. But first, we ride.”

On the Road – Wind and Freedom

There was something about riding with Mikey that didn’t feel like real life. Maybe it was the way he drove — fast but sure, reckless but safe in his own weird way. Maybe it was the way the city blurred past, or how your arms fit perfectly around his middle, your cheek pressed against his back.

But most of all, it was the silence between you — warm, unspoken understanding that didn’t need filling.

The city faded. The buildings shrank. And then you reached it.

The Waterfront – His Favorite Place

The same quiet spot from before — the wide edge of the river where the world seemed to pause. The water stretched out smooth and silver under the early morning light, and the breeze was gentle, lifting Mikey’s hair as he cut the engine.

He parked, leaned the bike gently down, and held your hand as you hopped off — not letting go even when you were both standing.

“This place’s been mine forever,” he said softly, tugging you with him toward the edge. “But now it feels like it’s yours too.”

You smiled. “You always bring me to the quiet places.”

He looked at you — really looked. “You’re my quiet place.”

Your heart squeezed.

Then, as if he realized how serious that sounded, he added quickly, “And because you're hot. I wanna keep you where no one else sees you.”

You shoved his shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

“I’m yours,” he said smugly, sitting on the concrete ledge and pulling you into his lap without even asking.

You settled there, warm in the morning sun, his arms wound lazily around your waist again.

“You’re clingier than usual.”

He nodded against your shoulder. “Didn’t get enough time with you last night.”

You tilted your head. “We sat on your bike for almost two hours.”

“And it still wasn’t enough.”

You kissed the top of his head, your fingers playing with his hair.

He tilted his head back, eyes half-lidded with sleep and affection. “Marry me.”

You blinked. “You’re doing this again?”

He grinned. “I meant it. Sooner or later, I’m locking you down.”

You leaned in and kissed him, slow and sure — then pulled back just far enough to whisper, “Then I hope it’s sooner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The breeze rolled in gentle waves, brushing across your skin like a whisper. Mikey rested his head on your shoulder, legs dangling over the concrete ledge where the river lapped below. For a long moment, he was quiet. Not out of awkwardness — just content.

But you could feel something stirring beneath the stillness.

He was thinking.

You didn’t rush him. Not with Mikey. When he was ready, he spoke.

“…Y’know when I was a kid,” he started, voice low, “I thought I had to be the strongest person alive.”

You turned your head slightly, eyes on his profile.

He wasn’t smiling now.

“I thought if I wasn’t strong… I’d lose everything. My brother. My gang. My people. So I decided I’d never show fear. Never slow down. Just keep pushing.”

You stayed quiet, letting him speak. Letting him be.

He shifted slightly, arms still around your waist but his hands resting in his lap now.

“But you…” he said, almost like he was thinking out loud. “You don’t ask me to be strong. Or scary. You don’t even look at me like that.”

You swallowed. “Like what?”

“Like the rest of them do,” he said, glancing at you. “Like I’m some kind of unstoppable thing.”

You tilted your head. “You are strong, Mikey. But you’re also… kind. And funny. And stubborn. And incredibly dramatic.”

He smirked a little at that.

“And when you’re with me,” you continued, brushing your thumb across his knuckles, “you don’t have to be anything. Not the Invincible Mikey. Not the leader. Just… Manjirō.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Instead, he leaned in slowly and pressed his forehead to yours, eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s why I wanna marry you someday,” he murmured. “Not just ‘cause I love you. But ‘cause with you… I’m not afraid to just be me.”

The weight of his words settled between you like a second heartbeat.

You kissed him, soft and slow and full of every unspoken promise.

When you pulled back, you smiled against his lips. “Then I’ll wait for that day. As long as you want. I’m already yours, Manjirō.”

His arms slid tight around you again, pulling you flush against him as he buried his face into your neck with a sigh.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” he mumbled.

You rested your chin on his head. “Yeah. As long as you need.”

And so you sat — wrapped in each other, in the quiet, in the safety of being seen — as the river flowed and the morning sun painted the world golden.

___________________________________________________________________________

It had been quiet for a while.

The kind of warm, sleepy silence only people who are deeply comfortable with each other can share. The sky was fully awake now, soft blue stretching above you, while the city remained distant, forgotten.

Mikey still had you wrapped up in his arms on his lap, chin tucked onto your shoulder like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

And then, out of nowhere—

“Okay. So if we had twins…”

You blinked. “What?”

“I’m just saying,” Mikey said, completely casual, like you’d been having this conversation. “If we had twins. A boy and a girl.”

You turned to look at him. “Where is this coming from?”

He shrugged, completely unbothered. “I think we’d make cute babies. It’s a valid thought.”

Your face burned. “Mikey—”

“Manjirō,” he corrected smugly.

You lightly smacked his chest. “You’re skipping way too many steps.”

He leaned his chin in his hand dramatically. “Don’t act like you didn’t just promise to marry me.”

You laughed, trying to hide your flustered smile. “Okay, fine. Twins. What are their names?”

“Glad you asked,” he said, sitting up straighter like he’d been waiting for this. “For the boy—Shin.”

“…Shin?”

“After Shinichiro. But just ‘Shin.’ Cool and strong. Simple. Like, ‘Oh no, Shin’s mad again.’ That kind of vibe.”

Your heart clenched a little at the mention of his brother, but the fondness in his voice made you smile.

“That’s actually… really sweet.”

“I know.” Then he grinned. “And for the girl…”

“Oh no.”

“Her name’s gonna be Pudding.”

You choked.

“Mikey—!”

“Manjirō,” he said again, grinning wider.

“You are not naming our child Pudding.”

“Why not?” he shrugged. “It’s cute. She’d be cute. Everyone loves pudding.”

You gave him your best unimpressed stare.

“…Fine,” he said with a fake sigh. “I’ll compromise. Her nickname can be Pudding. Her full name can be something like… Hikari. Or Yuzu.”

You blinked. “Yuzu’s really cute…”

He lit up. “Right?! Yuzu and Shin. Boom. Perfect.”

“Shin and Yuzu,” you repeated under your breath, testing the way it sounded. “That’s actually… adorable.”

Mikey leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky with the most self-satisfied smirk on his face. “Told you. I’m a genius.”

You glanced at him, at the messy hair and the way the morning light caught on his lashes, at the soft curve of his grin and the boyish glint in his eye.

“…You’d actually be a good dad,” you said, quieter than you meant to.

His smirk faded into something gentler.

“Only ‘cause I’d have you,” he said.

And just like that, the teasing melted back into something warmer. Realer.

He pulled you back into his lap again, hugging you like you were already his future, not just his present.

And maybe… you were.

___________________________________________________________________________

The same riverbank.

Years had passed, but Mikey still liked to come here. Still parked his bike at the edge of the slope, still kicked back with his hands behind his head, like he was king of the world and the sky existed just to amuse him.

But now, the boy was a man.

Still lazy-eyed and sun-touched, still with wind in his hair and that devil-may-care smirk — but something in him was more solid now. A spine of quiet strength. Eyes that had seen a little more but lost less. This time, he’d held onto what mattered.

And what mattered… was currently leaning her head on his shoulder, laughing at one of his stupid jokes.

You.

“You remember the first time I dragged you out here?” he asked, voice low but grinning.

“Dragged? I remember you begged me for a bike ride because you couldn’t sleep.”

“I did not beg,” he scoffed. “I persuaded.”

“Sure, Manjirō.”

He smirked, then nudged your temple with his own. “You were so nervous that night.”

“You tried to name our imaginary daughter Pudding.”

“She’s still on the list.”

You laughed, and for a while, you both just watched the river shimmer. The way it had back then. Before everything got bigger. Before Toman became a name whispered in every back alley with both fear and awe. Before Mikey became a living legend.

But with you, he was still the same dork who stole your fries and your heart.

So when he shifted beside you and said, “Close your eyes,” you did.

No questions. Just trust.

You felt him move. Heard the rustle of fabric. Then silence.

And then:

“Okay. Open.”

You turned — and your breath caught.

Mikey was sitting cross-legged in front of you, holding a ring between his fingers like it wasn’t heavy with meaning. Like it was just a ring. But his eyes… told a different story.

He wasn’t nervous.

He was glowing.

“I’m not gonna do some long speech,” he said. “I think you already know.”

He reached forward, gently taking your hand, thumb brushing over your knuckles like he was trying to memorize them again.

“I love you. Like, idiotically much. Always have. Always will. I wanna eat breakfast with you every morning, and argue about baby names, and hold your hand when we’re eighty and I’ve got bad knees and saggy cheeks.”

You let out a teary laugh, but he was dead serious now.

“I wanna be your husband,” he said. “Not someday. Now.”

Then, softly:

“Marry me.”

The words settled between you like sunlight — warm and real and undeniable.

You nodded, barely able to speak. “Yes. Manjirō… yes.”

And that was it. He slipped the ring on like he’d always known where it belonged. Then pulled you in, kissed you like the world could end right there and he’d still be smiling.

Afterward, still holding you against his chest, he whispered:

“You’re gonna look so good in my last name.”

___________________________________________________________________________

If you thought being Mikey’s girlfriend was eventful, being his fiancée was like trying to plan a royal wedding during a gang meeting.

Which, unfortunately… was kind of exactly what it turned into.

You told Emma first — of course you did.

The moment you showed her the ring, her scream echoed across the café.

“HE FINALLY DID IT?!”

You barely had time to nod before she threw her arms around you, squealing like she’d just won the lottery. Which, to be fair, she kind of felt like she had.

“I’m going to plan everything,” she declared, already grabbing napkins to sketch ideas. “No—Mitsuya and I are going to plan everything. You’re going to have the most beautiful wedding Tokyo has ever seen.”

“Emma, I love you, but I don’t want to wear something with feathers and glitter—”

“Tasteful glitter,” she corrected.

Later, you told the rest of Toman at a casual gathering Mikey claimed would be “lowkey.”

Spoiler: it was not lowkey.

Mikey, with his usual subtlety, dropped the news mid-lunch like, “Oh yeah, I proposed. She said yes. Pass the soy sauce.”

Takemichi nearly choked on his noodles.

Smiley and Angry immediately started arguing about who would cry first at the wedding.

Draken just smirked and clapped Mikey on the back. “About time.”

Mitsuya pulled out a notebook. “When’s the fitting?”

You turned to Mikey. “You didn’t even ask if I wanted a big wedding.”

He shrugged, completely shameless. “Didn’t think you’d say no. Besides, if you did, we’d just ride off somewhere and do it alone.”

Everyone laughed—except you, because you knew he meant it.

__________________________________________________________________________

Your phone buzzed that night. A text from Mikey.

“You still wanna do this, right?”

You smiled, heart warm.

“Absolutely. Why?”

“Dunno. Just… can’t believe I get to marry you.”

You bit your lip, feeling the butterflies stir.

“You’re soft.”

“Only for you.”

“Go to sleep, Manjirō.”

“Can’t. Too excited.”

You stared at his last message for a moment. Then texted back:

“Me too.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The sun was golden over the shrine, soft and slow as it spilled across the worn stone steps. Lanterns swayed gently in the breeze, the air filled with faint traces of incense and the rustle of silk. It was traditional, timeless — just like Mikey wanted it.

Just like he always dreamed.

He stood with his hands tucked in the sleeves of his black montsuki, embroidered in silver with the Tokyo Manji insignia hidden within the family crest on the back. His hair was loose today, a little windswept, soft strands falling over his eyes.

He looked calm. He looked ready.

But his thumb was brushing circles against the inside of his sleeve.

Draken leaned in from behind him. “You nervous?”

“I’m not nervous,” Mikey said.

“You’re twitching.”

“I’m not twitching,” he said. Then blinked. “…Okay. Maybe a little.”

Draken smirked. “Good. Means you actually care.”

Mikey rolled his eyes, but didn’t deny it.

He was nervous.

Because you were everything.

___________________________________________________________________________

You were standing in front of the mirror as Emma adjusted the delicate hairpin at the side of your head, a deep breath caught somewhere in your chest.

“Okay, look at me,” she said, stepping back. “You are… breathtaking.”

You turned, eyes wide and shimmering. The white uchikake you wore shimmered with a subtle pattern of cranes and chrysanthemums — hand-sewn by Mitsuya, of course — and your obi was fastened in a delicate lotus bow, soft pink threading woven into it for good luck.

“Emma,” you whispered. “It’s really happening.”

She smiled, misty-eyed. “I know. He’s really doing it. You broke the curse, you know?”

You blinked. “Curse?”

“The Manjiro ‘never-gonna-marry-because-he-says-he’s-married-to-his-bike’ curse. You shattered it.”

You both laughed, clutching each other’s hands tightly.

Then, the doors opened.

The shrine was quiet — not tense, just reverent.

Toman members lined both sides of the main path in formal black. No one cracked jokes. Even Smiley looked serious. Even Baji’s ghost, if he were there, would’ve stayed quiet out of respect.

Because when Mikey turned and saw you walking toward him — radiant, sure, the very image of love and calm and everything he’d never deserved but somehow got — the whole world stilled.

His breath caught.

His heart ached in the best way.

He didn’t even realize he was smiling until Draken nudged him.

“You look like a kid who just got all the candy.”

He ignored him.

Because you had reached him. You were standing in front of him. You were about to become his wife.

And Mikey, for the first time in a long time, didn’t feel like the leader of anything.

He just felt yours.

The priest read the words. You exchanged sake cups. You bowed together before the altar.

And when Mikey turned to face you again, his voice was soft — but his words landed like thunder.

“I was a storm before you,” he said, not caring about tradition. “But you… you make me want peace. Every day. And I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.”

You didn’t even try to stop the tears. You smiled through them.

“I already feel like your wife,” you whispered. “But I’m so, so happy to be it in name too.”

He kissed you then — traditional timing be damned — and the crowd broke into quiet, reverent cheers.

Toman, at his back.

His future, in his arms.

___________________________________________________________________________

The room was quiet.

Not silent — the sound of water in the garden beyond the sliding doors still trickled peacefully, and the soft rustle of silk and linen moved as Mikey sat behind you, undoing the intricate layers of your wedding attire with slow, careful hands.

Neither of you had spoken much since the reception ended.

He didn’t need to.

The moment you stepped through the door of the traditional inn he’d chosen — away from the speeches, the dancing, the playful shouting of drunk Toman boys — Mikey had taken your hand and held it like it was the only thing grounding him to the earth.

“You’re really mine now,” he whispered, pressing his forehead to the back of your shoulder.

You turned in his arms, hands against his chest. “I was always yours, Manjirō.”

He looked at you like he still couldn’t believe it. Like even now, after everything, you were a dream he hadn’t quite earned. His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away the last traces of makeup, the last glitter from Emma’s wild ceremony touch-ups.

“You looked beautiful today,” he said. “But not as beautiful as you do right now.”

You smiled, eyes shining. “You said that during the vows.”

“I meant it then, too.”

And then, softly:

“Can I hold you? Like… really hold you?”

You nodded, and the two of you lay down together on the futon. No rush. No urgency.

Just the weight of forever, finally within reach.

He kissed you slow. Not like the goofy kisses he’d steal at the shrine, or the teasing ones on your neck during bike rides. This was different. Intentional. Reverent.

He kissed you like a vow.

Fingers laced with yours. Arms around your waist. His voice in your ear, quiet and slightly rough:

“You’re my home.”

Morning came gently.

He was already awake, blinking at the ceiling with your hand resting over his bare chest, thumb twitching slightly in your sleep.

He glanced at you.

His wife.

His light.

His everything.

“Still here,” he murmured, smiling faintly.

You stirred, squinting at him. “Where else would I go?”

Mikey grinned, leaning in to steal a lazy, sleepy kiss. “Just checking.”

The years ahead stretched out wide and open — with Toman standing strong, with people he trusted at his side, and with you curled up next to him in his arms. For once, the future didn’t look heavy.

It looked like peace.

It looked like breakfast together in oversized shirts and soft hair and his jacket hanging next to your coat on the wall. Like you teasing him for talking in his sleep. Like picking baby names again on the balcony in the evening. Like safety.

And every now and then — when the world outside got loud — he’d pull you close and murmur in your ear like he did on the first night:

“Say it again.”

And you would.

“I love you, Manjirō.”

Always.

[imababblekat]

Bayverse TmnT X Reader; Injury HC's

@hellhound911 ,"Hello I love your writings! I was wondering if I could request with the Bayverse turtles where the reader is in a relationship with the turtles (not all at once, but the little scenarios you do) and they come home hurt really bad and the reader begins to help bandage them up and they are trying to keep it together but they let tears flow and they were worried what would happen if their special turtle died and despite being hurt, the turtles comfort their lovers and say that they love them and they aren’t going anywhere? Things like that? Just a thought whenever you can/want. Thank you!"

◉Story Notes: character injury(nothing explicit), tiny bit of angst with added comfort

~xXx~

Leonardo:

Leo’s used to putting on a strong façade for the sake of his brothers, but when he’s with his s/o he feels that he can let that all go and show how hurt he truly is

Yet, the second he sees his s/o’s eyes start to glisten he’s already gently grasping their cheek, worry drowning out any major pain his body was in

He hates that he made them worry so much, and feels guilty at not realizing sooner how coming to them so completely battered might affect them

Leo gets it though, he could never even begin to imagine if something happened to his s/o, which is why he’s out there every night kicking bad guys to the curb

He’ll spend the night at their place, offering them comfort and making them both tea despite his injuries, just so they can hold onto him as much as they need for reassurance that he’s safe, and also so that he may hold them tightly as well

Raphael:

This turtle is constantly getting himself into sticky situations that him and his s/o have a running joke of “x amount of days since Raph got his butt kicked”, that it’s never occurred to him what kind of toll showing up to their place at o’ dark hundred, bruised and bleeding would build up to

It’s not till after one particular bad patrol that his s/o, furious and tear stained while cleaning his wounds, breaks down and practically shouts at him for his carelessness

He’s so confused at first, but once things calm down and his s/o can properly explain how worried sick they are all the time that there will come a night he’s not knocking at their window does it hit him how serious this is

Raph makes his s/o a promise that “ain’t nothin’ stopping me from seen’ your pretty face, doll”, and while he’ll be out there still playing rough, he's definitely more conscious about his actions

Donnie:

Before his s/o, Donnie was always the one to fix his own wounds, but now he had someone he could go to for help

It was still rare that he ever had to, but the few times he did he had always had the sneaking suspicion that it bothered his s/o

He didn’t understand why till he asked one night after a heist gone wrong, and his s/o, bleary eyed and holding back choked sobs, admitted how they were terrified of there coming a time where his wounds were so great they couldn’t do anything to help him

It hit him hard, because if something serious happened to his brothers, they could always count on his expertise medical skills to fix them right up

Now, in holding his crying s/o close to his plastron, his brain was already kicking into gear plans to teach them all he knew, so that should a time ever come, not only his brothers, but his s/o would be ready

Mikey:

Mikey’s not exactly careless, but he is free spirited, and sometimes that would get him into trouble

Before his s/o, his brothers always made sure that he was tended to first if injured during a fight, but when his s/o came into his life he was always quick to run to their place to be doted on

However, one night Mikey is getting a nasty gash sewn up on his bicep and despite still having the energy to crack some light hearted jokes, his s/o is uncharacteristically silent

It takes a bit of prodding but eventually they tearfully admit that, especially after the Kraang incident, they’re terrified that someone will take him, their shinning ray of light, away from this world

Mikey’s heart is so absolutely broken hearing this; he’s so quick to pull his s/o in for a hug, shushing their cries and swearing to the heavens that nothing would take him from his loving angel

~xXx~

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Something that I have kind of noticed is that Leo often sometimes seems to be the one trying to keep his family on track with whatever task they are trying to accomplish.

Leo: So where’s the dog thingy?

Something that I kind of noticed was that as early as the first episode of Rise 'Mystic Mayhem', Leo has sort of been the one that seems to try to keep his family on task, with Leo asking about Mayhem when April & the Turtles first discovered the Hidden City as helping Mayhem was one of the reasons for the Hamato Clan's first adventure in Rise.

Leo: Yeah, yeah. Mistakes were made. Lessons were learned. We got a video game to play. So vamos hermanos.

It also kind of seems that Leo seems to try to keep his family on track even in the Turtles more 'day to day' adventures as during the episode 'Hot Soup: The Game', when Mikey & Raph are clashing over Raph's over protective nature & Mikey's need for independence, Leo interrupts their argument by pointing out that they originally all just wanted to play a video game in the first place.

Leo: Hey, so Gram Gram, it is Gram gram right? We thought we were getting a weapon from the Twilight realm and not a... you?

Something that I kind of wonder about is if Leo's tendency to try & keep his family on track might possibly be a kind of form of compartmentalisation as during the episode 'Shreddy or Not' even when Leo is reacting to Karai's sudden appearance in the lair with the rest of the Hamato Clan & asking if Karai being their ancestor makes Karai their 'Gram Gram', Leo also seems to be the one to remind the family that they had originally been trying to find a way to defeat the Shredder before Karai appeared.

Leo: Hey April, cool if you don't, but do you still have that orb with all the people of New York in it?

Something that I have also kind of been wondering about is that Leo sometimes being the one that seems to keep his family on track of whatever task they are trying to accomplish might possibly have something to do with Leo's ability to keep track of multiple different things happening around him at once, that we usually see when Leo uses his portals in battle, as during the episode 'Anatawa Hitorijanai' even though the Hamato Clan had to deal with the fact that both Draxum & Splinter had been captured & also had to deal with trying to figure out how to defeat the Shredder, Leo also took the time to ask if the people of New York were still okay as well.

[httpvomitello]

Pretty Girls Fight Like This! ⊂⁠(⁠•⁠‿⁠•⁠⊂⁠ ⁠)⁠*⁠.⁠✧

When Raph first met you, he didn’t know what to make of you. You were certainly unique—long, multi-colored hair that seemed to glow under the lair’s fluorescent lights, a bubbly personality that clashed with his tough-guy demeanor, and an aura of joy that was almost infectious.

But what really threw him off was the first time he saw you fight.

It was a routine patrol when the Kraang ambushed you and the turtles. Raph had expected to step in and protect you—after all, you didn’t exactly look like a fighter. But before he could charge in, you grabbed a Kraang droid by the arm, swung it over your shoulder, and sent it flying into a wall.

“Whoa!” Mikey yelled, nearly dropping his nunchucks.

“Where the shell did that come from?” Raph blurted, staring at you.

You dusted off your hands, smiling brightly. “Oh, I’ve always been strong. Comes in handy when fighting bad guys!”

Raph blinked, completely thrown off. You were stronger than you looked—stronger than him, even—and yet you carried yourself with such lightheartedness that it was hard to reconcile the two.

As time went on, Raph found himself intrigued by your quirks.

During a movie night at the lair, you polished off slice after slice of pizza without breaking a sweat.

“Damn, you eat like Mikey,” Raph said, watching as you reached for another slice.

You laughed, wiping your mouth with a napkin. “What can I say? Fighting bad guys works up an appetite!”

He smirked, shaking his head. “You’re somethin’ else.”

Then there were your outfits.

You had a habit of wearing bright, pastel-colored clothes that clashed hilariously with the dark, gritty atmosphere of the lair. Raph wasn’t sure whether to admire your boldness or shake his head in disbelief.

“You ever heard of stealth?” he asked one day, gesturing to your neon-pink jacket.

You grinned, twirling around to show off the outfit. “Stealth is overrated. Besides, I like feeling cute!”

Raph rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

What really solidified Raph’s feelings for you, though, was a quiet moment in the lair.

He noticed you constantly tugging at your socks during training. They never stayed up, no matter how many times you adjusted them. At first, he didn’t think much of it, but the more he watched, the more it started to bother him.

The next time he went topside, he made a stop at a store and picked out a pair of long, durable socks. They weren’t flashy—just a simple black pair.

When he handed them to you, you blinked in surprise.

“Socks?” you said, holding them up.

“Yeah,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck. “I noticed yours kept fallin’ down during training, so... figured these might help.”

Your eyes softened, and you gave him a warm smile. “Raph, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said quickly, trying to hide the redness creeping up his neck.

But you weren’t done. Without warning, you threw your arms around him in a tight hug, catching him completely off guard.

“You’re the best, Raph,” you said, squeezing him.

He froze for a moment before awkwardly patting your back. “Yeah, well... somebody’s gotta look out for you.”

From then on, Raph found himself going out of his way to spend time with you. Whether it was sparring, sharing a meal, or just hanging out in the lair, he couldn’t help but gravitate toward you.

You, in turn, started making small gestures to show your appreciation—bringing him snacks, cheering him on during training, and even surprising him with a custom wristband you’d made with your crafting skills.

“What’s this?” he asked when you handed it to him.

“It’s a wristband,” you said, smiling. “I figured it’d match your whole tough-guy vibe.”

Raph stared at the gift for a moment, his chest tightening with an unfamiliar warmth. “Thanks,” he said gruffly, slipping it onto his wrist.

But deep down, he couldn’t stop smiling.

Raph wasn’t used to letting people in, but with you, it felt natural. Your strength, your quirks, your unshakable optimism—it all made him want to be better, to protect you even though you didn’t need it.

And as you sat next to him one evening, laughing at Mikey’s antics and glowing in your brightly colored outfit, Raph realized that he didn’t just like you. He cared about you, more than he’d ever thought possible.

[demonboysdelight]

Bonten Members React to Their Girlfriend Being Kidnapped

Manjiro "Mikey" Sano:

The phone call comes in during a particularly mundane Tuesday evening meeting. Mikey sits at the head of the long conference table, his dead eyes staring at nothing as his executives discuss territory disputes and profit margins. The words wash over him like white noise until his personal phone buzzes against the polished wood. Unknown number.

"We have something that belongs to you, Manjiro Sano."

The voice is cocky, confident. Amateur. Mikey's expression doesn't change as the caller continues, describing you in detail - what you're wearing, where they took you from, how easy it was. They want money, territory, immunity. Standard demands from people who don't understand who they're dealing with.

You, meanwhile, sit calmly in the musty warehouse chair they've tied you to, almost feeling sorry for your captors. You've seen what Mikey becomes when his dark impulses take hold, witnessed the cold fury that transforms the usually detached leader into something terrifying. These idiots have no idea they've just signed their own death warrants.

Mikey ends the call without a word, his finger hovering over the hang-up button for a moment longer than necessary. The room falls silent as every executive feels the temperature drop. When he finally looks up, his eyes have changed - there's something awakening in those obsidian depths, something that's been sleeping for far too long.

"Meeting's over," he says quietly, his voice carrying an undertone that makes even Sanzu straighten in his chair. "Kakucho, trace that call. Sanzu, gather everyone. Kokonoi, liquidate whatever you need to for cleanup costs."

He stands slowly, his movements deliberate and predatory. "They took her from the café on Fifth Street at 3:47 PM," he continues, though no one had given him those details yet. He'd memorized your schedule, your routines, every place you might be vulnerable. It was his job to protect you, and he'd failed. The dark impulse that lives in the back of his mind starts to unfurl like smoke.

By the time Bonten mobilizes, it's already too late for your captors. Mikey doesn't just want them dead - he wants them to understand the magnitude of their mistake before they die. The warehouse where they're holding you becomes ground zero for a systematic dismantling of their entire operation. Not just the kidnappers, but their families, their associates, anyone who ever shook hands with them.

You hear the gunshots starting from the perimeter and working inward, methodical and precise. Your captors' confidence evaporates as their communications go dead one by one. When Mikey finally walks through the warehouse door, stepping over the bodies of the men who thought they could guard you, there's blood spattered across his white suit and something ancient and terrible in his smile.

"Did they hurt you?" he asks softly, cutting your restraints with hands that aren't even shaking. When you shake your head, relief flickers across his features for just a moment before the darkness settles back in. He lifts you effortlessly, carrying you past the carnage like it's nothing more than an inconvenience.

Later, as you're safe in his penthouse, Mikey sits in his study staring at surveillance photos of your kidnappers' families. The dark impulse whispers that loose ends create future problems, that mercy is weakness, that anyone connected to this needs to disappear. You find him there at dawn, still deciding, and when you take the photos from his hands and burn them in the fireplace, he lets you. For now, the darkness retreats. But your kidnappers' screams echo in the distance as Sanzu continues his work, and Mikey finds he doesn't mind the sound at all.

Haruchiyo Sanzu:

Sanzu is in the middle of "questioning" a traitor when his phone rings. He's got blood under his fingernails and a manic gleam in his eyes that his latest cocktail of pills has only intensified. The interruption annoys him until he hears your voice - scared, trying to sound brave, whispering that you're sorry before the line goes dead.

The silence that follows is deafening. The man tied to the chair in front of him suddenly seems insignificant, forgotten. Sanzu's scarred smile widens into something that would give nightmares to nightmares themselves. Someone has made the catastrophic error of touching what belongs to him, and the pharmaceutical haze in his brain is already cooking up elaborate revenge fantasies.

You know Sanzu better than anyone, know that beneath the pills and the mania is a man whose loyalty burns so bright it's practically radioactive. These kidnappers think they're dealing with just another criminal, but you've seen Sanzu's devotion to Mikey, witnessed the lengths he'll go to for the people he cares about. They have no idea they've just become the target of someone who views torture as an art form.

"Change of plans," Sanzu announces to his men, his voice sing-song and cheerful in a way that makes them all take a step back. "We're going hunting." He leaves the traitor alive - for now. There are more important fish to fry, and his creative juices are already flowing with ideas for what he'll do to the people who dared touch you.

The kidnapper who calls with demands quickly realizes he's made a mistake when Sanzu starts laughing. Not normal laughter - the kind of unhinged cackling that speaks of a mind that's taken a permanent vacation from sanity. "You want money?" Sanzu giggles into the phone. "Oh, I'll give you something much better. I'll give you an experience."

Within hours, Sanzu has tracked down not just your location but the entire family tree of everyone involved. He doesn't just want the kidnappers - he wants their associates, their friends, that guy who sold them coffee that morning. His approach is less surgical strike and more scorched earth, and he's having the time of his life.

When he finally arrives at the abandoned building where they're holding you, he comes alone. Not because he has to, but because he wants this to be personal. You hear him before you see him - that distinctive laugh echoing through the corridors, punctuated by screams and the sound of his katana cutting through flesh and bone.

"Honey, I'm home!" he calls out in a sing-song voice as he carves his way through your captors. The last one tries to use you as a human shield, pressing a gun to your head with shaking hands. Sanzu just tilts his head, considering the tactical challenge with the same expression a child might use when deciding which toy to play with.

"You know what's funny?" he asks conversationally, still grinning that scarred smile. "She's not even scared of you. Look at her face - she's not scared because she knows I'm here." And you aren't scared, because you've seen Sanzu in action, know that his madness has purpose when it comes to protecting what he loves.

The resolution is swift and brutal. Your restraints are cut by bloodied hands, and Sanzu pulls you against his chest, his manic energy settling into something almost gentle. "Did they hurt my precious girl?" he murmurs against your hair, and when you shake your head, his relief is palpable.

As he leads you out of the charnel house he's created, Sanzu is already planning the follow-up. These people had families, friends, associates. His phone is buzzing with locations and intel from his subordinates. The night is young, and his pills are keeping him energized. By dawn, it won't just be your kidnappers who regret their life choices - it'll be anyone who ever knew them.

Kakucho:

Kakucho receives the news while reviewing security footage in Bonten's surveillance center. He's methodical by nature, preferring to analyze situations before acting, but when his subordinate hands him the phone with shaking hands, something cold settles in his chest. The kidnapper's voice is professional, businesslike - they've done their research, know that he's high-ranking enough to make decisions but stable enough to negotiate.

They're wrong about the stable part.

You're sitting in what appears to be an old office building, noting the details that Kakucho trained you to observe - the number of guards, their weapons, exit routes, structural weaknesses. You're not panicking because you know how Kakucho's mind works, how he approaches problems with the patience of a chess grandmaster planning twenty moves ahead. These amateurs grabbed you thinking they'd caught a helpless civilian, but you're Kakucho's girl, which means you're anything but helpless.

Kakucho listens to their demands with growing irritation. They want Bonten to pull out of their territory, want money, want guarantees. They speak like they have leverage, like they don't understand that they've just declared war on someone who's been planning for contingencies since he was a child growing up in the slums.

"I see," Kakucho says quietly when they finish their spiel. His voice is calm, controlled, giving no hint of the volcanic rage building beneath the surface. "And if I refuse?"

"Then your girlfriend dies," comes the confident reply.

Kakucho hangs up without another word. Around him, the surveillance center erupts into controlled chaos as every screen lights up with facial recognition software, traffic cameras, and satellite feeds. He's not just looking for you - he's mapping their entire operation, identifying weaknesses, cataloging every person who's ever associated with them.

"Sir?" one of his technicians asks hesitantly. "Should we inform Mikey?"

"No," Kakucho replies, his fingers flying over multiple keyboards simultaneously. "This is personal."

Within an hour, he has everything. Their real names, their hideouts, their financial records, their family members' addresses, their dental records. Kakucho doesn't just gather intelligence - he weaponizes it. By the time he's ready to move, he knows these people better than they know themselves.

You feel the building shake slightly as the power goes out. Emergency lighting kicks in, casting everything in an eerie red glow. Your captors are getting nervous, their radio communications filled with static and confusion. One by one, their perimeter guards stop checking in. Kakucho isn't announcing his presence - he's systematically dismantling their entire operation from the outside in.

When he finally appears in the doorway of your holding room, he's not alone. Behind him, you can see the evidence of his methodical approach - guards zip-tied and conscious, their weapons confiscated, their escape routes blocked. He's not here to kill everyone; he's here to capture everyone and then decide their fates at his leisure.

"Gentlemen," Kakucho says politely, his hands clasped behind his back as he surveys the scene. "I believe you have something that belongs to me."

The lead kidnapper tries to maintain his bravado, but his hands are shaking as he points his gun in your direction. "Stay back, or she dies!"

Kakucho tilts his head slightly, considering. "That would be inadvisable," he says conversationally. "You see, I've spent the last hour learning everything about you. Your real names, your families' addresses, your children's schools, your mothers' medical conditions. If anything happens to her, I won't just kill you. I'll systematically destroy every single thing you've ever cared about, and I'll make sure you live to see all of it."

The honesty in his voice is more terrifying than any threat. These men realize they're not dealing with hot-headed revenge - they're facing cold, calculated retribution from someone who has the resources and patience to follow through.

Your rescue is anticlimactic compared to the planning that went into it. Kakucho's men move with surgical precision, and within minutes, you're free and in his arms. He holds you close, his heartbeat finally returning to normal now that you're safe.

"Are you hurt?" he asks softly, his hands gently checking for injuries. When you shake your head, relief floods his features. "Good. Because we have some visitors to interview downstairs."

Takeomi Akashi:

Takeomi is smoking on the balcony of his apartment when the call comes through. He'd been thinking about his inferiority complex again, wondering if he's really cut out for his position in Bonten or if he's just riding coattails. The kidnapper's voice cuts through his self-doubt like a knife, and suddenly every strategic bone in his body snaps to attention.

You're being held in what looks like a repurposed restaurant, complete with old booth seating and a broken neon sign. Your captors clearly think they're clever - they've chosen someone connected to Bonten but not important enough to trigger an all-out war. They don't realize that Takeomi's role as advisor means he has access to every piece of intelligence Bonten has ever collected, every favor they're owed, every pressure point they can exploit.

Takeomi listens to their demands with the patience of a man who's spent years being underestimated. They want information - Bonten's operations schedules, territory maps, financial records. They think the advisor will be more willing to negotiate than the executioners. They're about to learn why Mikey keeps Takeomi around despite his self-perceived mediocrity.

"Interesting proposal," Takeomi says calmly, taking a long drag from his cigarette. "Tell me, how long do you think it took me to identify all of you from your voice patterns and background noise?"

There's a pause on the other end. These aren't complete amateurs - they've done some homework. But they've made the fatal error of assuming that Takeomi's strategic mind is limited to gang politics.

"Twenty-three minutes," Takeomi continues, checking his watch. "That's how long it took me to run your voices through our recognition software, identify the acoustics of your location, and cross-reference it with recently abandoned commercial properties in your price range. You're in the old Sakura Family Restaurant on Nakamura Street. You've got four men, two vehicles, and about six hours before the building's owner shows up for his weekly inspection."

You can't help but smile despite your situation. This is Takeomi at his best - the man who turned strategic thinking into an art form, who can see six steps ahead while everyone else is still figuring out the current move. Your captors are beginning to realize they've made a significant miscalculation.

Takeomi doesn't mobilize Bonten's usual heavy hitters. Instead, he makes a series of phone calls to people who owe him favors - legitimate businessmen, corrupt officials, even a few rival gang members who respect his reputation for fair dealing. By the time he hangs up, your kidnappers' world is quietly falling apart.

Their bank accounts freeze. Their vehicles get towed for "parking violations." Their families receive visits from social services for "anonymous tips." The building's owner gets an "emergency call" about a gas leak and shows up with fire department officials. Takeomi doesn't just rescue you - he orchestrates a symphony of inconveniences that leaves your captors with nowhere to run.

When the restaurant door opens, it's not Takeomi who walks in first - it's a fire marshal demanding an immediate evacuation due to "dangerous gas levels." Your kidnappers are faced with the choice of fleeing immediately or risking arrest, and in their panic, they choose flight over fight.

You find yourself being "evacuated" directly into Takeomi's waiting car, while your former captors scatter into the arms of plainclothes officers who just happened to be in the area. No shots fired, no bodies to dispose of, no heat on Bonten. Just a perfectly orchestrated rescue that removes the problem without creating new ones.

"Sometimes," Takeomi says quietly as he lights another cigarette, "the best strategy is making your enemies defeat themselves." He looks at you with something approaching pride. "Though I have to admit, this was motivated by more than just strategic thinking."

You lean against his shoulder as he drives, appreciating the elegant simplicity of his approach. While other Bonten members would have painted the streets red, Takeomi dismantled your kidnappers' lives with nothing more than paperwork and phone calls. It's a different kind of power, but no less effective.

Ran Haitani:

Ran is in the middle of a massage when his phone buzzes with an unknown number. He almost doesn't answer - his schedule is packed with expensive relaxation, and he's been looking forward to this appointment for weeks. But something about the persistence of the ringing makes him gesture for the masseuse to pause.

"Ran Haitani," he answers lazily, not bothering to hide his irritation at the interruption.

"We have your girlfriend," comes the response, and suddenly Ran's entire demeanor shifts. The whimsical smile fades from his face, replaced by something much more dangerous.

You're sitting in what appears to be an upscale office building, which already tells you something about your captors' resources and connections. They're not street-level thugs - they're organized, professional, and they've clearly done their research on Bonten's structure. They know that targeting an executive's girlfriend sends a message without directly challenging Mikey's authority.

What they don't know is that Ran's lazy, carefree attitude is a carefully cultivated mask. Underneath the whimsical exterior is a calculating predator who's been running Roppongi since he was a teenager. These people have just made the mistake of disturbing his peace, and Ran takes his comfort very seriously.

"How inconvenient," Ran says into the phone, his voice maintaining its casual tone even as his free hand starts texting rapid instructions to his subordinates. "I was having such a lovely day."

The kidnapper launches into their prepared speech about demands and consequences, but Ran isn't really listening. He's already identified the background noise - air conditioning units, traffic patterns, the specific echo that comes from a building with marble floors and high ceilings. Roppongi is his territory, and he knows every upscale building in the district.

"I'll have to call you back," Ran interrupts politely. "I need to finish my massage first. These appointments are so hard to reschedule."

He hangs up before they can respond, then looks at his masseuse with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid we'll have to cut this short. Something urgent has come up."

You're not surprised when the building's fire alarm starts going off twenty minutes later. This is exactly the kind of psychological warfare Ran excels at - he doesn't announce his presence with guns blazing. Instead, he creates chaos and confusion, forcing his enemies to react to his timeline rather than their own.

The evacuation is orderly at first, but it quickly becomes apparent that this isn't a standard fire drill. The elevators shut down, emergency exits mysteriously jam, and security cameras loop footage from earlier in the day. Your captors realize they're trapped in their own stronghold with nowhere to run.

Ran appears in your holding room like he's arriving for a casual business meeting, adjusting his cufflinks with the same attention he'd give to ordering wine. Behind him, you can hear the sounds of his men systematically working through the building, but there's no screaming, no gunshots - just the efficient handling of a minor inconvenience.

"Sorry to keep you waiting," he says to you with a genuine smile, as if your kidnappers aren't even worth acknowledging. "Traffic was murder."

The lead kidnapper tries to maintain control of the situation, but his hand is shaking as he points his weapon at Ran. "Stay back! We'll kill her!"

Ran glances at him with mild interest, like he's examining an unusual insect. "How terribly predictable," he sighs. "Do you know what happens to people who interrupt my spa days?"

There's something almost hypnotic about Ran's presence - the way he moves with liquid grace, the casual confidence that comes from never having lost a fight that mattered. Your captors are realizing that they're not dealing with a hot-headed gangster but with something much more dangerous - a apex predator who's been pretending to be domesticated.

The resolution comes swiftly. Ran doesn't dirty his hands personally - that's what subordinates are for - but he orchestrates the takedown with the same aesthetic appreciation he applies to everything else. Your captors are subdued with minimal fuss, their organization dismantled with the efficiency of a well-run business.

As Ran unties your restraints, he checks his watch with a disappointed expression. "We've missed our dinner reservation," he observes. "I suppose we'll have to settle for room service."

Rindo Haitani:

Rindo gets the call while he's in the middle of debugging a security system. His technical expertise has made him invaluable to Bonten's operations, and he's completely absorbed in the digital puzzle when his phone starts ringing. He almost sends it to voicemail before he notices it's not coming through his usual encrypted channels.

"Yeah?" he answers absently, still typing code with one hand.

"We have something you want back," the voice says, and every line of code disappears from Rindo's mind as your voice comes through the background, calling his name before being cut off.

You're being held in what looks like a tech startup's abandoned office space - all glass walls and modern furniture that nobody bothered to remove. Your captors clearly think they're being clever by choosing a location that plays to their target's strengths. They don't realize that putting a Haitani brother in a building full of computers and electronic systems is like handing a master key to a locksmith.

Rindo's response is immediate and multifaceted. While the kidnapper is still making their demands, he's already tracing the call, hacking into nearby surveillance systems, and accessing building schematics. His fingers fly across multiple keyboards as he turns the entire city into his personal monitoring network.

"Interesting choice of location," Rindo says casually, interrupting the kidnapper's rehearsed speech. "Tell me, did you guys bother to check if that building's smart home system was still connected to the internet?"

There's a pause, then the sound of someone frantically checking their surroundings. You can't help but smile - these people clearly don't understand who they're dealing with. Rindo doesn't just use technology; he speaks to it like a native language.

Within minutes, Rindo has complete control over the building's systems. The lights start flickering in patterns, the air conditioning cycles through extreme temperatures, elevator music begins playing from hidden speakers throughout the building. Your captors are getting increasingly agitated as their environment becomes actively hostile.

"Stop playing games!" the lead kidnapper shouts into his phone, but Rindo just laughs.

"Games? This isn't a game," Rindo replies, his voice taking on the same dangerous edge his brother gets when someone interrupts his fun. "This is me showing you exactly how fucked you are."

You watch as every screen in the building suddenly displays the same message: photos of each kidnapper alongside their real names, addresses, criminal records, and bank account information. Rindo hasn't just identified them - he's doxxed them in real-time, broadcasting their details to every law enforcement database in the country.

The psychological pressure is incredible. Your captors realize they're not just being rescued from - they're being hunted by someone who can manipulate their environment like a god toying with mortals. Door locks engage and disengage randomly, phones receive calls from numbers that don't exist, and security cameras track their movements with mechanical precision.

When Rindo finally arrives with his team, it's almost anticlimactic. Your kidnappers are huddled together in the center of the room, too paranoid to touch anything electronic. The building has become a digital haunted house with Rindo as the ghost in the machine.

"Thanks for keeping her company," Rindo says cheerfully as his men secure the scene. "Though I have to say, your hospitality could use some work."

He cuts your restraints with hands that are rock-steady despite the adrenaline, his usual impulsive energy focused into laser-sharp concentration. "You okay?" he asks softly, his eyes checking you for any signs of harm.

When you nod, relief floods his features, and some of his usual reckless energy returns. "Good," he grins, already pulling out his phone to start documenting the night's events. "Because I've got some really interesting footage to show Ran. He's never going to believe what these idiots tried to pull."

Hajime Kokonoi:

Kokonoi is reviewing quarterly profit reports when his secretary buzzes in with an urgent call. He's in the middle of calculating the return on investment for their latest money laundering operation, and the interruption makes him scowl at the phone display showing an unknown number.

"This better be important," he answers curtly, not looking up from his spreadsheets.

"We have your girlfriend, and if you want her back alive, you'll transfer fifty million yen to the account I'm about to give you."

The pen in Kokonoi's hand snaps. Not from pressure - from the sudden, violent tremor that runs through his entire body. Fifty million. These amateurs think they can put a price on you like you're a commodity to be traded. They have no idea that to Kokonoi, you're literally priceless.

You're sitting in what appears to be a storage facility, surrounded by boxes and industrial shelving. Your captors clearly chose this location for its anonymity, but you can see the wheels turning in their leader's head as he calculates potential profits. They think they've captured a revenue stream, but they've actually just declared war on someone who can buy and sell governments.

Kokonoi's voice, when he responds, is deadly calm. "Fifty million," he repeats thoughtfully. "That's an interesting number. Tell me, do you have any idea what my monthly income is?"

The kidnapper launches into their prepared script about consequences and deadlines, but Kokonoi is already working his phone with surgical precision. He's not just transferring money - he's tracking it, identifying every account it touches, mapping the entire financial network these people use.

"I'll need an hour to liquidate some assets," Kokonoi says smoothly, playing along while his fingers dance across his laptop keyboard. "Fifty million is pocket change, but I like to maintain proper cash flow."

What your captors don't realize is that Kokonoi doesn't just have money - he has access to financial systems that most people don't even know exist. Within thirty minutes, he's identified their bank accounts, their real identities, their families' financial records, and every business they've ever been associated with.

The psychological warfare begins subtly. Credit cards start getting declined. Bank accounts temporarily freeze for "security reviews." Mortgage payments mysteriously bounce. Kokonoi isn't just attacking the kidnappers - he's systematically dismantling the financial stability of everyone in their network.

"I've sent the money," Kokonoi announces into the phone exactly one hour later. "Check your account."

They do, and find not fifty million yen, but fifty yen - less than fifty cents. Along with a detailed breakdown of how he's seized all their assets, identified their families, and acquired controlling interests in every business they've ever worked for.

"You wanted to play with money," Kokonoi says, his voice still perfectly professional. "Let me show you what real financial power looks like."

You watch as your captors' phones start buzzing with notifications - eviction notices, foreclosure warnings, terminated employment, canceled insurance policies. Kokonoi hasn't just refused to pay the ransom; he's economically devastated everyone involved in taking you.

When he finally arrives to collect you, he comes alone and unarmed. He doesn't need weapons when he's already destroyed his enemies' entire way of life. Your former captors are too busy trying to understand how they've lost everything to put up much resistance.

"Are you hurt?" he asks gently as he cuts your restraints, his hands shaking slightly despite his outward calm. When you shake your head, he pulls you into a fierce embrace.

"Good," he murmurs against your hair. "Because I may have gotten a little carried away with the revenge. Their great-grandchildren are going to be poor."

[whenmemorydies]

The restaurant could be good.

Why did Syd call herself an accomplice in 3x05 Children?

I was re-reading @yannaryartside's fantastic meta about this (and you should too) and it got me thinking. In their meta, OP asks:

Is Syd (or her leaving) supposed to be a wake-up call to Carmy? That he fucked up something that brought him genuine joy and connection because Syd knew the real him, while Claire liked Logan and Carmy's brokenness? The way Claire would enable him in his bad tendencies? How is he gonna realize all that?

Honestly, I don't know what these writers have planned for how Carmy comes to the realisation that season 3 Carmy is not it lol. But I have one suspicion about how it might go, and it has less to do with Carmy and more to do with Syd.

We have to go back to season 1 where it all started. Where Sydney met Carmy and articulated within the first three episodes of the show, her hopes for her future and the future of The Beef.

Recall 1x02 Hands and the convo between her and Richie in Richie's car:

Sydney: You know the restaurant could be good. Like I know you know that. Like it doesn't have to be a place where the food is shitty, and where everybody acts shitty and feels shitty. Like it could be a good legit spot.

Cut to season 3, after Syd and Carmy have overhauled the restaurant and everyone is...well...acting shitty, feeling shitty and the food is looking like a damn mess:

Also recall the alley chat in 1x03 Brigade:

Sydney: You know, I think this place could be so different from all the other places we've been at. But in order for that to be true, we need to run things different.

Then cut to season 3 where we have EC Carmy decidedly not running things different at The Bear. Instead, he repeats toxic communication and management styles from his past:

Recall 1x05 Sheridan and Sydney's vulnerability with Carmy about why she started her catering business, Sheridan Road, after leaving the restaurant scene:

Sydney: Like it was the first time I didn't have a complete and utter psychopath behind me screaming, and pushing and yelling, and I thought I wanted that, you know?

Cut to season 3 and, well, you know the drill: behold our fav Executive Jeff acting like an utter psychopath and partaking in some screaming, pushing and yelling.

So what happened in season 3? Why have things gone in almost the exact opposite direction of what Sydney hoped for in season 1?

To my mind, the answer to that question lies in season 2 and what both Syd and Carmy were doing during that season. Yes, Syd spent most of season 2 setting up the restaurant alone while Carmy played hooky with Claire. But what was more striking to me was the contrast in effort that both of them put into actually doing things different at the restaurant (as per their pledge to each other during the alley chat of 1x03 Brigade).

Breaking cycles

I agree with @yannaryartside: Carmy playing hooky with Claire in season 2 was him numbing himself (i.e. Claire is the drug that he was addicted to for this purpose). I also reckon he was using Claire as another way to keep Mikey in his life - a reverse-engineered haunt - particularly while the most obvious physical manifestation of Mikey in the present day (The Beef itself) was being transformed into something else entirely. That kind of change - that kind of loss - couldn't have been easy for Carmy, particularly as The Bear was something he had wanted to open with this brother in the first place. I get why Carmy would "self-medicate" with Claire to try and numb some of the pain he may have felt, I really do.

But while Carmy was spending so much of his time either avoiding or dulling his pain, it meant he had little time or energy for working through these things. We know that he has been making attempts at this particularly in relation to his familial trauma and grief (as evidenced by his attendance at Al-Anon meetings). But throughout seasons 1-3 we see almost no work on Carmy's part to address the abuse and trauma that he's experienced in professional kitchens. We do not see him trying to prepare himself for the task of leading an entire restaurant. The first and only time we see Carmy start this process is in the last episode of season 3, when he bravely confronts Chef David Fields at the funeral dinner for Ever.

Now admittedly, Sydney does not have the history of familial abuse that Carmy does. But as discussed above, she does share a history of professional abuse in the restaurant industry with him. Its why the two of them make that promise to each other to do things different in 1x03 Brigrade.

To this end, Sydney spends almost all of season 2 working to enhance her leadership skills to make herself better for the staff she'll be leading as CDC of The Bear. Recall her book, Leading with the Heart by Mike Krzyzewski (Chicago-born, Polish-American and hugely successful former basketball coach of the Duke University Blue Devils and the American national basketball team), gifted to her by her father, Emmanuel:

In the beginning of 2x07 Forks, we follow Sydney as she surveys The Bear during renovations and while she works on a menu idea. This opening sequence features the following narration from an interview with Krzyzewski (which reiterates the show's ongoing message that none of us are alone, particularly when we take the time to listen to one another):

The other thing is that you're not gonna get there alone. You know, be on a team. You know, surround yourself with good people and learn how to listen.

You're not gonna learn with you just talking.

And when you do talk, converse. Don't make excuses. Figure out the solution. And you don't have to figure it out yourself.

I always wanted to be part of a team and obviously I wanted to lead that team. You know, [...] what an interesting life it is to be a leader.

The advice Coach K gives in the above monologue is also mirrored in Marcus' eulogy for his mother where he spoke about the importance of listening. It's also gold advice for how to be consistent in relationship to others. I've spoken here about the themes of chaos and consistency on this show and how one of Carmy's battles is understanding that,

[C]onsistency in terms of a product (e.g. a clean kitchen every night or immaculately plated dishes each service) and consistency in terms of relationships are two different things. You can strive for consistent products but destroy all your relationships in the pursuit of them. Conversely, if you strive for consistency in your relationships, you may not always make consistent products (and quite frankly, that's OK - is a perfectly plated agnolotti dish worth Carmy's relationship with Tina? Is driving Syd to a panic attack worth Carmy's pursuit of a star? I think not on both counts).

Sydney took the time throughout season 2 to learn how to be consistent and effective as a leader. She knew - and knows - that simply being an excellent chef is not going to cut it when it comes to running a restaurant and leading a team. This took time and effort on her part but she was committed to making The Bear different to all the other places she'd been at, so she did it. I should also note that Syd did this internal work while menu-planning and trying to push herself culinarily. She was doing so much lifting. Jealousy of Claire aside, I am surprised Syd didn't rip Carmy a new one when he talked about rejigging the menu while at his girl-who's-a-friend's house lmao.

Cut to season 3 though, and Syd is running The Bear with Carmy who has spent the entire season not having put in the work to change the chemistry in their restaurant. Of course Syd tries to counter this as best she can. She runs interference with the team and gently tries to steer the ship. But as she says in 3x09 Apologies, things have been off at The Bear.

So when Syd tells us in 3x05 Children that she's an accomplice, I can't help but feel that in her heart, Sydney believes she's an accomplice in the betrayal of their vision - Sydney and Carmy's shared vision for The Bear - from season 1. The vision she worked so hard during season 2 to bring to fruition.

By season 3, they've betrayed it and each other: family style is no where to be found and The Bear looks and feels like all the other places Syd and Carmy have been at. While exhausting for Carmy ("I'm so fucking sick of this"), this would have been devastating for Syd, given all she's done to try and avoid this outcome. You can understand why she'd consider an offer like Shapiro's (though we know she's not going to take it).

Given the events of 3x10, where Carmy confronts Chef David and has that heart-to-heart with Chef Terry, its clear his perspective on Michelin mode is starting to shift. I think the threat of losing Sydney will scare the shit out of him too. But what I think will prompt Carmy to actually change his behaviour in season 4 is the realisation that he too is an accomplice and has betrayed not just himself but Sydney and their team as well. Season 4 will necessarily need to be told, at least in part, from Syd's perspective so that the impact of this on Syd is made clear to the audience (Storer and Calo, are you listening? Its me, a desperate fan). And once Carmy recognises his role in continuing the traumatic professional legacy championed by Chef Fields, he can get into working through and breaking that cycle. I'll be seated and ready for it.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Hi I love your stuff - its literally amazing

I was wondering if you could write 2012 mikey who has been sneaking out alot and his brother notice that, so they follow him and find out that he's seeing a girl (reader) and are in utter disbelief. Maybe have mikey introduce reader to them or something

Mikey’s Night Secret (Fluff)

2012!Michelangelo x reader

A/N: Thank you💚 I feel like it has been a long time since I last wrote some Mikey stuff, so here you go. Hope you’ll enjoy🧡

Warnings: None🧡

It had been happening for a few months now, that Mikey’s brothers had noticed their little brother’s strange behavior. And as time passed, it only seemed to get more and more strange.

Raph was the first to notice. Mikey was… quieter than usual. At first he thought that something was wrong, that Mikey might had been hiding something. Either something he did wrong and didn’t want anybody to know about, or something that made him sad. He just couldn’t tell. So for the first time ever, he decided it was best to ask Leo for help.

Leo and Donnie however was just as stumped as Raph, not sure what was going on with Mikey. He didn’t seem any less happier than usually, just different, and well, not fully present. He often sat with his phone, either checking it or using it. At any sound or vibration he was on it, smiling as he checked whatever had just gotten in on it. But whenever someone asked him about it, Mikey claimed that he had no idea what they were talking about, holding his phone screen close to his chest. No one believed him on that.

But it wasn’t until a few weeks ago, that they learned Mikey had started to sneak out during the night. Donnie caught him on his way from the garage lab to the kitchen, in order to make himself another cup of coffee, finding Mikey on his way out of the entrance, making cartoonish sneaking steps.

“What are you doing?”, Donnie asked, causing his little brother to jump with a small sound of surprise, staring at him in panic, sweat already pooling from his forehead, his fingers nervously tapping together.

“Nothing! Nothing”, Mikey said with a nervous laugh, his eyes jumping from one point to another. “I was just, uh… Sleepinwalk! Yeah, sleepwalking!” And just like clockwork he closed his eyes, holding his arms out in front of him, before slowly making his way to his room, mumbling the word “sleepwalking” over and over again.

Of course Donnie went straight to Leo and Raph and told him what had happened. And of course that started sending alarm bells through all of their heads.

They started to stay up for longer, seeing if they could catch Mikey trying to sneak out. Mikey, in turn, would start sneaking out at a later time. They also soon found that if Mikey wanted to sneak out, he would find a way to sneak out. If only he was as focused and determined during training or missions…

Finally, after several weeks, Leo had had enough. He was tired of Mikey avoiding questions and disappearing without any notice. It truly made him worried for his little brother’s safety. Therefore he decided it was time to follow his brother, and figure out what he was hiding from them.

All three waited in the shadows, listening and watching, waiting for Mikey to make an exit. And just like they had expected, he came out of his room when he thought that the coast was clear. They followed Mikey as he made his way out of the sewers and up over the roofs, staying just far enough back so that he wouldn’t notice them, yet close enough so they wouldn’t lose him out of sight.

They found Mikey jumping down onto a fire escape for an apartment building, where he took a look around, seeing if anybody was watching him. Leo signed for the other two to duck down, so that they were hiding behind the edge of the opposite roof, just out of his sight. Once Mikey was satisfied, believing that he was alone, he turned towards the window that led onto the fire escape, knocking softly on the glass with his knuckles. The window was quickly opened by a girl, smiling brightly when she saw Mikey.

Raph sat up straight away when he saw you, his mouth open in disbelief. There was no way. Absolutely no way. Mikey!? Mikey is seeing a girl? No, he was playing tricks on them. It couldn’t be true. But then, right in front of them, you pulled Mikey in for a close hug, before placing a sweet peck on his lips with a happy smile. This was enough to cause a reaction from all three boys.

“Mikey?!”, they yelled, causing the two young lovers to jump in surprise and stare up towards the opposite roof, seeing all of Mikey’s brothers in all different phases of disbelief. You, however, didn’t seem too shocked by this, smiling still with your arms wrapped around Mikey.

“I guess those are your brothers”, you smiled, nodding towards the three shocked turtles, staring like she just grew an extra head right in front of them.

“I knew this day would come sooner or later”, Mikey sighed, trying to suppress a small smile. He had actually been excited for the day he would be able to show you off to his family. “Guys”, Mikey called out, making sure his brothers were listening. “This is (Y/N), my girlfriend. (Y/N), these are my brothers”.

It took Mikey’s brothers a few days to get over that one.

[skelliko]

|°-context: how they'd help you prepare for a test

°-featuring: all tr boys

• sits you down and tutors you, makes you remember helpful sentences/ rules to certain equations and help you to keep motivated. throughout the day he'd also ask you questions about the topic which catch you off guard but it works to keep you reminded - mitsuya, kisaki, seishu, Rindou, Kokonoi, kakucho,

• in-between these two ↑ ↓ when he knows something he makes sure you also know it too, but when he doesn't he might as well join you in your revision and learn it too - chifuyu, ran, akkun, smiley, izana, shinichiro, hakkai,

• can't even keep himself focused on the test let alone help someone else, so you're both actively stressing and asking each other questions and answers - Keisuke, kazutora, draken, takemichi, angry

• they'd help you cheat on the test instead, show you ways on where to write answers down such as the inside of your sleeve or they'd promise to give you answers during the test somehow - Hanma, Mikey, sanzu, shion,

 ♡----

[milykins]

Hello my dear! ✨️

I was curious if you might be able to write a little something fun/fluffy with Mikey for this prompt:

"Sorry, you're just my type."

I'd love to see what you could come up with for this. Thank you!

🫂💖

Finally ready to post! I hope this doesn't disappoint. I had fun putting my own nerdy spin on this ask and putting it in my AU where they already live among humans just worked really well for this prompt. Thank you for it!

TW: None, set in an AU where they live in the city and have jobs/own businesses. Aged up, adult turtles

Special thanks to @sophiacloud28 for beta reading!

Just My Type

Mikey was kind of a big deal. He was the first of his brothers to go ‘public’ once they had made the decision to reveal themselves. Predictably, Leo had advised him to go about it carefully. Raph followed suit, and Donnie especially. Both were planning to take careful baby steps and advised Mikey to do the same.

Funny that they expected him to listen, did they even know him? Unsurprisingly, he went hard, very much putting himself out there. To him, the choice was easy. If they were to live among the humans, he needed to show them that they meant no harm. The incident at the police station was a painful reminder of how bad things could go and he was willing to do whatever it took to prevent that. Mikey was steadfastly dedicated to shifting humanity’s perspective from ‘monsters’ to ‘heroes’.

To his delight, the expressed reception was largely positive. He was very pleased that his efforts had paid off. Perhaps a little too well. Mikey ended up with a huge fanbase in a matter of months. His popularity exploded across social media and he even appeared on a few talk shows.

Opening his comic book store was huge. People camped outside with lineups around the block for the grand opening. The rush of customers and fans was so intense that Mikey actually had to call his brothers in for assistance. Raph had been more than happy to act as a bouncer for his little brother.

He was quickly becoming very familiar with the term ‘be careful what you wish for’. Our hero in orange was there. The constant fans demanding pictures, autographs, even trying to steal his mask… (he’d lost four so far) had been grating on him a little. He’d been wondering if his brothers were right in telling him he should’ve approached humanity more carefully. Leo certainly had no problem pointing it out. ‘You asked for this, Mikey. What did you expect?’

He couldn’t say. He’d just wanted what they all wanted. Acceptance. Now, it looked like he’d bitten of more than he could chew.

Then you came along.

He’d been watching the day you nervously approached the door. Carefully, you placed your hand on the door handle before abruptly drawing it back like it had been burned. Turning on your heel you left fast, caught up in your own mortification. Stifling a soft chuckle, Mikey went back to his work.

You proceeded to do this twice more over the coming days much to his growing amusement. He couldn’t help but be intrigued and was patiently waiting for the day you summoned enough courage to actually enter the store.

Obviously, you were a huge fan. He was flattered of course but he could tell something was different about you. Typically, his fans had no fear in approaching him and most had even less shame in throwing themselves at him. He found your hesitancy and careful approach to be endearing and a refreshing change.

His heart soared the day you finally summoned your courage and asked to be a part of his weekly one-shot D&D afternoon gaming sessions. Of course it was a resounding yes from him. He was perhaps a bit too enthusiastic as he was more than happy to include you.

It was a wonderful thing to see you blossom during the session. To see your confidence grow as you slowly came out of your own proverbial shell. You’d played before, he could tell. The adorable accent you put on as you fell into the role of playing your character nearly dropped him on the back of his shell. It was so cute. He delighted in the fact that you did not need much help in calculating your rolls either. He was really trying to tamp it down but he was already smitten. Soft, sweet, pretty and shy, but hiding this confident player underneath. You were just his type.

As the session came to a close, he felt a surge of pride upon being thanked by you. A wholly grateful smile on your face. Humbly accepting the praise, he secretly hoped this wasn’t the last he’d see of you. To his relief you shyly approached him after the game, not to ask for a picture or an autograph but to ask if he knew of any D&D groups accepting new members. Hope bloomed within him as he explained that actually there was one. His heart fluttered in his chest as he watched the excitement in your eyes grow. It was a done deal. You were invited to join his very exclusive, only reserved for family and close friends… D&D group.

Those sessions were the most enjoyable he’d ever had the pleasure of dming. Seeing you attend his games became the highlight of his week. You and he soon struck up a solid friendship and for once in his life, Mikey was trying his hardest not to come on too strong. He didn’t want to screw this up by any means. He wanted you to call the shots and was secretly hoping that you liked him as much as he liked you.

Oh, he was in deep. He began noticing the subtle nuances in your behaviour, little things unique only to you. How your cheeks flushed pink when something embarrassing happened or when he’d teased you in-game. Your expression of pure satisfaction and excitement as you rolled a perfect nat20 and your contradictory one of utter disappointment and dramatic woe when you rolled a nat1. He found himself craving these moments, just to see how you’ll react. Truthfully, he’d fudged at least one roll just so you’d have a success instead of a failure. He needed to see the look of pure joy on your face. He wanted to be the cause of that joy.

One day, he couldn’t help it. He had to ask you out. Saying he was nervous was an understatement. You’d think having such a huge fanbase would’ve prepared him for this but alas no. He was still a shy, stuttering mess when he’d quietly suggested dinner and a walk after.

At your soft, surprised yes, he nearly cheered with an overly enthusiastic fist pump. Instead, he tugged you in for a tentative hug and quietly told you how happy that would make him. He had to really hold back from kissing you as your faces grew close. Shyly, you pulled away first to tell him you’ll see him there. He watched you turn with a small wave and a tiny excited smile. You were so adorable it hurt.

The date itself seemed to be a success. He wanted you to be wined and dined, wanted you to feel special, like a princess. He tried to be an absolute gentleman while putting his best romantic foot forward. To his delight, you seemed to be having a wonderful time. If your wide smiles and soft bouts of laughter were any indication. By the time he was carefully holding your hand while walking with you through Central Park he’d thought he'd made it. Reading your body language and how you had glanced up to his face a few times while your cheeks flushed so prettily. He took the cue and leaned in for that once-in-a-lifetime first kiss. It was going to be perfect.

It was… until you pulled away at the last second. Mikey felt as though his heart had dropped into his stomach. Concern laced his features as he searched your face to find out where he’d gone wrong. Then you started talking, your voice stuttering and unsure.

“I’m sorry… I just… I didn’t think you really liked me like that…”

His heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice. “You… you don’t feel the same way… do you?” There was no hiding his disappointment this time. He watched your eyes widen as you struggled to pick your next words carefully.

Your tone changes then as you shake your head and then nod, stammering a bit. “Wait, wait, wait! No, I do! I do like you, Mikey… I just didn’t think you’d go for me, I’m nothing special… not like those fangirls of yours. Aren’t they more your type?”

This was the answer he’d least been expecting to hear. He’d been sure you were going to let him down easy… that your heart belonged to another… more human guy. Not a mutated turtle guy.

“Not my… you think that they…” His mind was absolutely blown. This gorgeous, sweet woman thought that she wasn’t good enough for him? That was it, he was in love.

“Sweetheart… sorry to disappoint you, you’re just my type. Exactly my type. You’re the only woman I want to be with. The one that knows the real me.” He gave you a truthful and tender smile as he carefully tucked an errant curl behind your ear.

This time, when he moved in for that kiss, there was no hesitation on your part. He wanted you to feel the joy and tenderness he poured into it, right down to your toes.

A tightening of your grip and a deepening of the kiss was all he needed to know that you did feel it. He’d found what most people had been searching for their entire lives. A deep connection you both shared in the depths of your souls. To heck with ‘types’ he just wanted you.

Until the next ask!

Taglist:

@danceingfae @thelaundrybitch @iridescentflamingo @redsrooftopprincess @ninnosaurus

@the-cauldron-witch @thepinkpanther83 @avery73 @adebauchedsloth @sophiacloud28

@definitely-canon @scholastic-dragon @truffle-reblogs @fyreball66 @yorshie

Please ask if you'd like to be added!

[freedelusionshere]

I think Syd wants Richie to rely on besides her dad because she’s terrified of ending up alone.

She lost her mom, she has no siblings. Her friends are not a constant presence in her life because she put everything into the restaurant. Which her dad tried to talk to her about in past seasons.

In her mind, all she has is her dad, and messy little Carmen has been right there reaching towards her and getting shut out even when her dad ends up in the hospital, so he thinks that he’s the problem in her way.

And he’s getting rejected again by someone he loves, but he learned this season that Mikey really loved him and was proud of him, even though he wasn’t there. He wants to be able to be present.

When Syd stops talking to him during service, he comes to find her to talk to her. He’s not the one being avoidant now, it’s Syd.

Like the plot of the two lovers in The Red Shoes, which @whenmemorydies pointed out, in Syd’s dream she is wearing red shoes and on stage in a theater when her mother did community theater.

But a lot of the surrealist imagery about addiction to career in that movie takes place on a stage. The red ballet slippers represent the ballerina’s career ambitions to the point it possesses her.

(Also, the theater troupe in that movie is like a found family as well.)

The director/maestro character in that film isn’t even Shapiro, he’s a stand-in for the industry/capitalism itself, and how it will drain them both dry and will keep asking for more until there’s nothing left to give.

Syd’s at the top of her game inside the restaurant right now, and he’s not. I don’t think he’s bitter about that. That ended in S3. He knows she’s better and he’s always known and he knows he’s also good, but it didn’t make him good at stuff that really mattered.

Carmy has realized, because he’s fallen deeply in love with Syd, the career is not enough for him, and maybe never was, but he’s not trying to stop her or be an obstacle anymore.

He had been doing that and trying to slow her down because he couldn’t handle it, and wasn’t being honest about where he was at because he thought he could make her fall in love with him by being that. And he tried to give her every material thing he has.

But we know that’s not what Syd is after, she is being chased by something herself and dealing with her own fears and blocks around that. Family, but what if they don’t feel safe like her dad?

What if they are messy AF white people?

What if she doesn’t want to be The Bear?

What if he will push her and make her have to be honest about stuff that’s not about the restaurant?

So I think now, Carmy will try to figure out something outside of the restaurant so he can figure this out. Richie and Syd asked him about plans and it weirdly sounds like he has actually thought about it and he said he’s afraid of “math” under the table with all the bears at the wedding which might actually turn out to be very true with Ebra and The Beef window getting franchised.

Syd and Carmy have kind of flipped positions from where they began in S1. Syd had a plan then and Carmy was the chef with the clout.

But I’m hoping Carmy is now the one who will remember what they promised each other in the alley in S1 and wants to make good on that.

He wants to give Syd something that is lasting and matters (legacy) not all the other things he was faking, about being a successful chef while not working on himself. He immediately lets Syd replace him with Richie as a partner.

Okay, if that’s what you want.

It’s what I need.

Okay.

He’s not trying to duck out, he’s trying to fix his mistakes.

Like the third act of Groundhog Day. 😊

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

Ahh I had a feeling I dreamt that (should probably fix my sleeping schedule 😃)

I'm going to attempt it irl now. 😭

Basically do u have any hcs for kazutora w a sister who likes mikey? But like in tje final timeliness obvi I don't rlly think it would work otherwise

So I imagine them meeting like when they're rlly young like idk since kazutoras dad sucks maybe he asks baji for some help protecting his sister and then he brings mikey and so her and mikey meet like that

And like I think shed have one of those personalities where she's extremely sassy to like cover up all the trauma ykwim

But as an adult she still kind of crushes on him and tries to get over him by dating the absolute worst specimens on Earth 😮‍💨

Anyway what r ur headcannons for how they might end up tgt? I rlly love the way u write the characters hehehhe ❤️❤️

I think they'd make a pretty good couple together, here's how I think that would happen!

Definitely one of those they're both so obviously crushing on each other and everyone can see it but themselves kinda situation.

Kazutora is so done with this whole situation. On one side he has to hear and see how much you clearly love Mikey. And on the other side he's constantly seeing Mikey pout over you being with yet another guy and whining about how you never pay that much attention to him anymore. Not to mention all the bad boyfriends Kazutora has to beat up for you (Baji happily helps).

Mikey tries extra hard to show off in front of you and talk to you because he wants you to focus on him. Has also been known to challenge some of your previous boyfriends to fight as a way of showing you he's stronger

Mikey finds the sassy side funny a lot of the time but he can also see what you're doing and in a sudden serious moment he encourages you to be yourself more. 

Emma actually tries her best to give you tips on how to tell Mikey, as well push Mikey to tell you. She really wants the two of you to get together.

When you're finding things a bit difficult there's a specific place Mikey likes to take you. It's a quiet place, where he sometimes took you when you both younger. 

Mikey definitely has a nickname for you, similar to how he changes others names

He's not slick at all though, has asked Kazutora so many times what he would think if he starts dating you.

Doesn't notice your reactions when he says things like "You're mine" and "I'll always protect you"

Pouts if he notices you're not at one of his races, he always tries extra hard to win if you're there. Even Draken notices how he get's a little more serious.

The confession finally happens after Mikey hears what your latest boyfriend was like to you. Beating the guy up then rushing you, he admits that he's in love with you during the heat of the moment as he's checking up on you. You both then freeze for a moment, realising what's been said before you confess back to him too. The shocked but happy looks on everyone's faces when you told them about it the next day made Mikey laugh. 

[luckycharms1701]

Hihihi!

First and foremost, I hope you're doing great❤️

Could I get headcanons for Leo with a fem! reader who likes to bite him? Like, when he least expects it, she love bites his arm or shoulder?

oh hell yes i am doing great looking at this ask! you can absolutely get some headcanons for this anon-chan!

… normally i’d pick one, but i want to explore their differences and similarities so you can have both.

edit: you: asks for headcanons me: but what if? it turned into a story instead? (sorry anon-chan, i uh got carried away)

Bayverse Leo: He would hate it at first. I imagine that he and Raph used to fight a lot as kids (“used to” lol) and as we all know, turtles bite. So when you first start doing this, he’s going to jerk away and think you’re crazy. Why are you trying to fight with him??? When you explain that you were just so overwhelmed with affection that you couldn’t help yourself, he might check your temperature to make sure you’re not sick. Eventually, he’ll get used to it. He seems to tolerate it at best. You have to be careful, if he’s in a certain mood he will snap at you for it. No matter how adorable his pouting is.

The change is, to you at least, sudden. He’s never made any indication that he does more than tolerate you biting him. But there is a day when it seems like everything has gone wrong for Leo. Mikey and Raph literally crashed into him while he was meditating during a prank gone wrong. He spilled his tea on Splinter’s favorite Lionel Ritchie album. Patrol was a hot mess that ended up with Raph injured. By the time Leo makes it to your apartment, all he wants is to lie down and not get up again.

You already have his favorite pizza, so he just needs to eat it and lie down with his head in your lap while you turn on some mindless television to take his mind off things. Your fingers run absentmindedly down his arm as you keep your eyes on the TV. You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from biting him, you know it won’t be accepted. You’ll have to find another way to show him how much you love him.

So you startle badly when he lifts his arm and holds it in front of your face. You look down to find him watching you, an intense look you’ve never quite seen before in his eyes. He nods. You hesitate only a moment more before opening your mouth and gently biting down on his wrist. Leo sighs as all the tension leaves him, and your eyes widen as he picks up your hand and brings it to his own mouth. He holds your gaze as he bites down, even more gently than you did to him. Oh. Oh.

After that, he doesn’t do it often. But if you catch him just right, he’ll give you a little love bite back.

~~~

Rise Leo: He would be amused the first time, and a little confused.  Would definitely make a joke bad enough that you start gnawing on him in annoyance. When you explain to him that he is just too cute and you couldn’t stop yourself, he’s going to stare at you for a second as he tries to comprehend that you think he’s cute. Then he’s going to strike a pose and say something about knowing how irresistible he is. He doesn’t mind at all if you keep doing it, but gets super uncomfortable if you do it in public. Every time you bite him, his smile gets a little warmer and more genuine.

It’s a normal day, the day you realize exactly how important you biting him is to Leo. You’ve just arrived at the lair, excited to see him. You drape yourself over his back where he’s reading comics on the floor and snuggle into his cheek, proclaiming dramatically how much you missed him. He leans into you with his customary smirk, not taking his eyes off the page in front of him.

Before you can give him a little bite on the shoulder, practically a customary greeting for the two of you at this point, Mikey calls your name. He wants to show you a piece he recently finished. You get up and follow Mikey out, not noticing the way Leo sits up straight and watches you go with a look of distress. You don’t think anything of the fact that you didn’t give Leo a love bite.

When you return, it’s to find your turtle sulking. When you ask him what’s wrong, he studies you without a word. Then he manhandles you onto the nearest soft flat surface and lays down on top of you. Leo nuzzles your shoulder and stretches his mouth around it, biting down firmly enough for you to feel it but not enough to hurt. You’ll have to apologize later, but for now you just hold him and give him a love bite back.

After that, you can never give him a love bite in public again. But he will bite you back.

~~~~~~~

head bonks: @yorshie @avery73 @justalotoffanfiction @thejudiciousneurotic @writinandcrying

[sweeneydino]

*BIG INHALE* Hi! I’ve been rotating the Spikeangelo au in my brain for a while, and things might get incomprehensible real quick. Not all questions, some just comments... 90% of this is just musing as the train of thought jumps rails and causes massive casualties; no need to answer all if you chose to answer any.

1. The fact that Master Splinter lets Titan live with them BEFORE he knows that he’s a version of Mikey, even after the attempted murder… man will look at a mutated turtle, ask, “Is anyone going to adopt that?” and not wait for an answer.

2. In Turtle Temper, Splinter says, “Spike, chew on your leaf if you are in the mood for a story”. Ronin has a choice here: pest Raph by eating, or troll Splinter by not. What choice would he make?

3. It seems like during the Slash and Destroy episode, Titan already had his outfit. If so… where did he get the clothes? The little turtles don’t really wear anything (and their clothes would be much smaller), so unless Splinter has a secret goth wardrobe, the only thing I can think of is that Raph is Very Optimistic about how tall he’s going to get, and has stockpiled clothes accordingly.

4. A while back you mentioned Titan “chewing [Shredder] out” after Shredder kills Splinter during the Triceraton invasion. The image you drew made it look like a tirade, but the first thing that came to mind for me was… more along the lines of using Shredder as a dog toy.

5. You said that after Slash and Destroy, Titan hides for a while out of shame. When does he rejoin the others? Before the invasion, *during* the invasion, after? Does he join the farmhouse arc, or does he do as canon Slash does and defend NYC while the rest of the turtles are gone?

Ah... there's a very long part six that's just about the ghosts... I don't think I'll be bothering you with that today.

When I see these types of asks, I can never control the squeal that comes out of my mouth. I love detailed analyses about my aus

:D

I also love completing things, so let's do them all!

1) Yep! Idk whats with the Splinters, but if it's turtle-shaped and needs a home, well say no more!

When Spike turned to Titan, Splinter already sensed something off with him, something more familiar than a family pet, but he would never figure out why until their lair is attacked by the kraang at the start of the invasion.

It's hard not to realize that your son's former pet knows moves (and shows a strange amount of wisdom) that you're 90% sure you never taught or shown to any of your sons.

2)

I think he's still upset about the pizza. Or Raph's anger.

3)Dumpster diving?

I'll be honest, I forgot to write it down... So we will stick to this simple solution for now🗿

4)

Okay, well... Shredder ALMOST became a dog toy. Let's just say that (this will totally not be a future comic)

5) He reunites with them after the newtralizer arc! After a little convincing ofc

When the invasion begins, he's with Splinter and Leatherhead, having defended their home and now searching for the turtles. They find Shredder after they exit the sewer, and Titan isn't too pleased to see the old bastard, attacking him in a rage once he hears about Leo's possible "demise."

Unfortunately, when he gains the upper hand, Titan is the one caught off guard and knocked into the machine, crushed by the pipes.

Before Shredder could really begin his usual evil monologue, he becomes distracted with Leatherhead, allowing Splinter to check on Titan and help him out of the pile of metal. Despite the likelihood of having a huge bruise on his ribs, he'd be fine. Even better if he could get rid of all their issues right there in front of him.

The one wrestling an alligator. And somehow winning.

And when he sees that devil in that all too familiar armor toss leatherhead into the pit, he's all too ready to kill him.

Yet he can't. Because He's not the only one wanting to prevent the past from happening again.

Splinter sends him away to find his sons, Titan's brothers - well, sorta - and even if he wants to bring Oroku Saki, the worse pain imaginable, he's more concerned if they are okay.

...

Okay, well, if the rest of them are okay

COUGH COUGH.

He'd find them, with him.

And uh. I think Leo's perfectly fine.

So when they decided to leave for April's farmhouse, he stayed in the city to search for Splinter and the other Mutanimals after leaving Leo with the others.

Maybe he sees himself as a burden.

Then the rest you make up on the way 👍 /j

This was very fun! Maybe I should just write paragraphs or smol little chapters with much more detail and flow🤔

Nah, I'll just draw.

Can't wait for the looooooooooonnngggg part six :D

[our-happygirl500-fan]

Various pieces of information from the Rise Q&A back in July 

1. When asked how the Turtles got their names in Rise it was said that back when Splinter was Lou Jitsu he travelled the world & developed a love for the Italian Renaissance & it’s art

This might have possibly been hinted at in the show as during the episode Al Be Back, Splinter was shown singing opera when trying to convince his sons to let him join their band.

2. Big Mama’s Assistant was stated to be one of the Turtle’s missing siblings & there were plans to name her after a female artist with Frida Kahlo possibly being the artist Big Mama’s Assistant would have been named after

The Turtles were supposed to figure out that Big Mama’s Assistant was related to them after various encounters with Big Mama, her personality is said to be ‘so disciplined & serious to the point where it is funny’.

3.  The Turtles had always had the potential for mystic powers & the mystic weapons that they took from Draxum acted as a catalyst & conduit to activating them

The Turtles are said to have had their mystic abilities inherently but needed something to help unlock them.

4. When asked about Mayhem it was admitted that Mayhem’s teleport ability was tricky to use due to easily being able to get the Turtles out of any serious situation

However it was stated that it could of been fun to see Mayhem go on seperate adventures similar to Perry the platypus in Phineas & Ferb.

5. When asked about the Raph & Casey friendship which can be seen in other iterations in TMNT it was said that though Raph & Casey didn’t get the chance to interact that much in the show they would actually make ‘the perfect pair’ if they had gotten to spend time together.

6. It was stated that after the Krang were sealed away the Turtles crashed & needed recovery time

7. After the events of the movie the public become slightly more aware of the existence of the Turtles

It was said that there would be a divide between people who feared & people who supported mutants & that the Turtles would have to work to maintain their reputation as heroes

8. When asked about if the Turtles had favourites when it came to their brother it was stated that Mikey was most likely Raph’s favourite & that Leo had a soft spot for Donnie & that Leo, Mikey & Donnie all look up to Raph

Mikey, Donnie & Leo: Raph! Raph! Raph!

9. When asked about Future Mikey & why he looked so much older in the future it was stated that the more powerful you Ninpo & Mystic energy are the more potential the powers have to drain whoever is using them

10. When asked about the heights of the future Turtles it was stated that due to his powers draining him Mikey had shrunk slightly but the Future version of Raph had been over 6ft 6 & the Future Version of Donnie had been slightly taller that Future Leo.

11. Casey Junior is said to have lost Cassandra when he was rather young & only has brief memories of her & that he was mostly raised by the Future version of Leo.

12. When asked about Splinter’s mystic abilities it was stated that he could do anything any of the Turtles could do if he tried

We’ve have briefly seen this when Splinter used Leo’s odachi to make portals but it also possibly means that Splinter could have also possibly replicated some of Raph, Donnie & Mikey’s abilities as well.

13. If there had been a cross over episode with Rise the 2012 Turtles were the Turtles most likely to be used due to many of the people who worked on Rise having also worked on the 2012 cartoon as well

Mikey’s powers are said to open up the possibility for cross overs with other universes

14. When asked about the Rat King it was stated he could have possibly been an extremely powerful Yokai

15. It was stated that Leo & Donnie both got their confidence from Splinter while Raph inherited his courage & sense of duty 

It was also stated that Mikey can tell that Splinter misses his old family & works to keep the family together

[httpvomitello]

Hello! If it's not too much to ask, can you write headcanons of the 2012 turtles with an S/O that has a similar appearance as Nightcrawler from X-Men? (Bonus points if they can teleport in a puff of smoke just like him!)

Hello, hello! I hope you like it ~ ♡♡♡♡

Leo’s totally into your teleporting

He’s already thinking of a million ways it could help in fights. "Babe, imagine— poof—we’re behind the enemy. Boom, done.”

Can’t stop himself from studying you, though

Traces your markings when you’re chilling together, and he’s got this quiet, amazed look like he can’t believe how awesome you are

Lowkey gets a kick out of it when you teleport mid-conversation just to mess with him

“We’re supposed to be training, not playing hide and seek.” But you can tell he’s holding back a smile

You scare him half to death one night by teleporting into his room unannounced

He’s now always on edge when it’s quiet, thinking you’ll pop in at any moment.

Damn, you look metal as hell.” That’s Raph first reaction, and he means it

Your vibe matches his perfectly, and he’s all about it

The teleporting? He’s hooked

Thinks it’s hilarious to use you as his personal scare tactic.

“Yo, (Y/N), go freak Mikey out real quick.”

Pretends like he doesn’t care when you disappear during sparring, but you know it drives him nuts when he can’t land a hit. “Stay still, would ya?!”

If anyone even looks at you funny because of how you look, Raph’s already cracking his knuckles. “What? You got a problem?”

Lowkey loves when you randomly teleport onto the couch and curl up next to him

He won’t say it, but his arm’s already around you.

Donnie’s brain goes wild the first time you teleport

“Wait, wait—how does that work? Is it quantum mechanics? Dimensional shifting?” He’s ready to write a whole thesis on you

He’s not even subtle about collecting the smoke you leave behind

You teleport, and he’s already got a jar out. “For science!”

Thinks your look is absolutely stunning

He loves how different you are and might even sketch you when he’s got downtime (even though he's not very good at drawing)

You scare him by teleporting into his lab while he’s in the zone, and he knocks over a beake

“You’re gonna give me a heart attack!”

Might invent a gadget to track your teleporting, not to limit you, just because he thinks it’s cool. “I could sync it to your phone, so you know exactly where you teleported last.”

Mikey’s your number-one fan from the start. “DUDE, you’re like a real-life superhero!”

He’s obsessed with your teleporting

Every time you do it, he yells, “BAMF!” and cracks up

Loves teaming up with you for pranks

“Alright, we’re gonna hit Raph with the ol’ teleport-and-ditch.” He’s cackling while you poof both of you out of the danger zone

Calls your smoke “your signature flair” and loves how you always make an entrance

He’ll clap every time

“And the crowd goes wild!”

Thinks your look is the coolest thing ever

Constantly hyping you up, throwing compliments like, “You’re the total package, babe. Looks, powers, AND personality? I’m blessed.”