#i know EXACTLY what donnie's motives are gonna be

[qoldenskies]

im really coming around on the idea of that villain disaster twins au ngl

[tangledinink]

Chapter Eighteen of I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? is now up! The Hamato Family finally goes back home. And now everything is okay and back to normal... right? Read it on ao3 or below the cut.

[ prev ]

The world wasn’t spinning anymore.

Damn, did that mean he was dead? Cowabummer.

As he looked around, however, Leo slowly realized (for the second time over a very short period) that, no, he was not dead. Or, at least, he didn’t think he was dead-- despite the fact that he was absolutely surrounded by a warm, comforting light, enveloping him and holding him close. 

He could hear the roars of the crowd in the distance. And though he was no longer flailing through the air, his head was still reeling, having not quite realized that they weren’t falling anymore. And as he slowly gathered his bearings, he realized he could see his siblings, all gathered together close; held behind the protective fold of a bright red light, shielded from the debris and dust that had been sent flying through the ring.

Vaguely, he came to the conclusion that the Ikuchi had fallen.

And he hadn’t.

It wasn’t until the red light faded and was replaced by his eldest brother’s tight embrace that he came back to reality properly, stumbling a bit, his eyes wide and his brain still buzzing a little; held up only by his brother’s grip rather than his own strength.

“... Did you catch me?” He finally managed to get his tongue to move.

“Never do that again,” Raph hissed in reply, and about half a second later, Mikey, April, and even Donnie had joined them, all stumbling into him and clinging to him all at once.

“What is wrong with you!? You idiot!” April cried, burying her face into his shoulder.

“Why did you do that?!” Mikey wailed through sobs. “I told you guys! I told you not to protect me! Why would you do that!? D-don’t-- don’t do that! Don’t e-ever do that again! Why don’t any of you-- e-ever listen to me? I would have-- I--! Leo!”

“Sorry!” Leo found it in himself to laugh, though even he could admit that he sounded just a little bit deranged. Eugh boy, were things still spinning? “It’s fine!... I knew Raph would save me.” 

“No you didn’t!” Raph snapped. “Raph didn’t even know Raph was gonna save ya!”

“How did you do that?” April gaped.

“I don’t know!” Raph laughed, his voice stumbling slightly with the threat of oncoming tears. “I just knew that if I didn’t save him, I’d never hear the end of it…!”

“I told you all not to,” Mikey wept, clinging to him. “I told you…”

“Aw, I knew you had magic powers,” Leo slurred. Okay, maybe he was still a little out of it. “You just needed… the right motivation…! All part of the plan…”

“Liar,” Raph hissed, tightening his hold on him, bundling his brother up close to his chest and burying his face against his shoulder. “If you ever pull some bullshit like that ever again, I swear to god, I’m gonna murder you--”

His next words were cut off by yet another shuddering crash of impact, nearly tossing the gang from their feet. And Leo was still not exactly feeling steady, per se, but turning to face the glowering form of an angry spider did wonders for sobering a person up.

“Well then,” Big Mama hissed, her eyes narrowed into slits as she glared down at them. “Wasn’t that an impressive performance.”

“I told you we’d give you a big hurrah. Was that cool or what?” Leo laughed, pulling away from Raph so that he could stand on his own-- stumbling a bit, but then finding his balance again, summoning up whatever he had left in his body to face her alongside his siblings. He could practically see Big Mama grit her jaw.

“Isn’t that just… splendifirous,” she hissed. “Well! Big Mama never breaks a deal! She does, however, alt--”

“Okay, hang on. Hold that thought. Sorry. Just. One second,” Leo said quickly, moving to shove his hand into his jean pockets, digging around for a moment as he approached the other.

“Oh! Okay. Here. Here you go,” he hummed, pulling a tiny black coin, etched with sigils that he couldn’t even begin to comprehend, from his pocket, where it had lived ever since it was retrieved from Big Mama’s own vault by Mayhem. He pressed it firmly into her insectile palm. “This is for you.”

Big Mama paused.

She stared.

She bristled.

Every hair on her body stood on end as she snarled, puffing up twice the size that she had been a second ago. She bared her fangs, digging her claws into the ground as she loomed over the group, a furious hiss escaping her as she leaned in close to Leo. Beyond a slightly dizzy rock on one foot, he stood his ground, keeping his gaze even and trained on her.

“Go collect your father and get out of my Nexus,” she spat, turning sharply away. 

Inwardly, Leo let out a massive breath of relief, his entire body sagging ever-so-slightly. He nearly fell over as he turned on his heel to try to re-join his slack-jawed siblings. 

“You heard the spider lady--” he said, wobbling dangerously. Luckily, Raph and Donnie were quick to react, each grabbing an arm on either side to keep him upright. Oh thank god. He was still thinking he might just throw up. Or pass out. Maybe both.

“What the hell was that!?” Raph hissed, his eyes wide and his voice hushed. “Leo! What did you give her!?”

“Honestly,” Leo said, chuckling the tiniest bit beneath his breath. “I have no fucking clue.”

---

The rest of the day was a blur. 

Mikey had never seen their father cry so much, nor heard him scream so loud, informing Leo at least eleven times that he was grounded for the rest of his life for scaring his family like that. And though he didn’t necessarily disagree, Mikey felt guilty the entire time. He kept wondering if anyone was going to yell at him for needing to be saved in the first place, but no one did.

They collected their dad. They collected Mayhem. They collected all their things.

They walked out of the Battle Nexus, back out the same way they had entered four days earlier. Mikey dimly noted the alleyway where they had huddled together and plotted just days ago. People repeatedly stopped and begged for their father’s autograph, seeming unsurprised to see him out and about, and he politely declined each and every request.

Their father clearly knew his way around the Hidden City. He knew the way home, too, and soon, they were back up on the surface-- in New York City.

They were in New York City again. And it looked the same. 

From there, they called 911.

Mikey barely remembered the ambulance ride, though he remembered thinking, wow, I’ve never been in an ambulance before. He wanted to tell someone that he was okay, he wasn’t hurt, that it was their dad and Leo that they had to worry about, but he couldn’t quite get his tongue to work. Every time he tried to open his mouth to talk, he’d just start crying again. Every time someone asked him a question, tried to ask what happened, if he was okay, where it hurt, he’d try to reply and instead tears would just bubble up again and spill over, painting streaks down his face over and over again until his head hurt.

Maybe that was a blessing, because he had no idea what he would have said. Their dad, however, did. Mikey was silently shocked by how easily he lied. By how effortlessly he weaved together a tapestry of tales to explain their absence-- wearily and emotionally describing the crazed fan who had kidnapped him and held him hostage in their apartment. He tearfully explained how his children had been contacted by the culprit and foolishly attempted to take matters into their own hands after being warned not to contact the police, only to be captured themselves until they were able to make their escape. 

It sounded dramatic. It sounded implausible, if Mikey was being honest, like the plot of a soap opera. But the way his Dad said it, it sounded… so believable. 

And everyone seemed to eat it up without question in a way that made Mikey squint, but in a way that he didn’t question, either.

They got to the hospital. They patched up all of Dad’s injuries-- the cracked ribs, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes, the bloody knuckles and torn muscles and swollen joints. Mikey could tell he was anxious, but he somehow didn’t panic even half as much as he did going in for a physical. He kept a brave face throughout, recounting the story as many times as he needed to, firmly declining any opioids, and keeping his focus squarely on Mikey and his siblings the entire time, even as doctors actively treated his wounds.

After some fluids and a long nap, Leo bounced right back, seemingly no worse for the wear. They wrapped Raph’s hands. Treated Donnie’s concussion and his back. Even April had managed to sprain her wrist in the fight, a mild and easily treatable injury, but an injury nonetheless.

But he was fine. Even after tripping and falling in the Nexus; he wasn’t hurt at all.

He felt fine. 

They gave him fluids, anyway, for how much he had bailed out in quiet sobs and sniffles. 

April’s mom and dad met them at the hospital, getting there almost as soon as they did, and were in absolute pieces. Mikey had never seen April’s dad cry before, but he had been experiencing a lot of firsts of that ilk recently, so he supposed he wasn’t that surprised. They hugged April and didn’t let her go until she insisted that they were crushing her and she couldn’t breathe. She, much like Leo, was informed that she was grounded for the rest of her life for doing something so reckless and stupid. Their dad apologized at least eighty times for putting her in harm’s way, for getting her involved in such danger, but April’s parents insisted that they were just relieved that everyone was okay, and Mikey could tell that they really meant it.

Their dad and April’s parents were really good friends, actually. He had almost boundless memories of the three of them hanging out and chatting while he and his siblings played. They’d often sit out on the front stoop together when it was nice outside. April’s mom came over regularly for tea. Her dad and his dad played baseball together, even, on the weekends sometimes.

He supposed they had probably been scared for him, too.

And then eventually, they were just…

Home.

Before Mikey knew it, he was back in his own room, staring at the wall and wondering how the hell he got here.

Was this real? He kept waiting to wake up, and it didn’t happen. Did all that actually happen? When he reached back through his memories and touched them, they wiggled like Jell-O, and he wasn’t quite sure if he could trust them or not.

He shifted in place, hearing the springs of the mattress creak beneath him. He smoothed his hands over the cotton of his bedspread, feeling the soft, knitted texture beneath the pads of his fingers. 

He stared up at the glow-in-the-dark stars that his dad had put there for him when he was four.

He was certain he was here now. They had… made it back home. His brothers were home, too. They had all retreated back to their own rooms for the night when they all finally got home, at nearly four in the morning, all exhausted from the experience. Even their dad was home. He knew he was. He watched him get here with them.

Very slowly, Mikey sank down in bed, laying flat on his back.

And even though he had been crying all day, it felt like he was finally letting the dam burst when he reached deep down into his chest and pulled out an aching, shuddering, genuine sob.

---

Raph didn’t think he could ever miss his own bed so much. He spread himself out, splaying out his limbs like a starfish, before eventually rolling over onto his side, curling up and finding the closest stuffed animal to grab and hang onto.

He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been starting to wonder if they would ever see their home again.

But now they were here. All of them, safe and sound. Their dad included. Their dad was home.

They got their dad home.

He got everyone back home.

But somehow, he didn’t feel better yet.

That wasn’t really true. He did! Mostly. He kind of felt better. He-- he was relieved, certainly. He was so grateful that everyone was home, safe and sound-- that everyone was safe, that Dad was okay, that Leo was okay, he just…

He hadn’t expected to feel so…

Angry. 

But now, laying here in his bed, staring off at the wall and listening to their quiet house, all filled up to the brim with his family, that was all he could feel. It felt sour in his stomach, poking and prodding at the edges of his muscles and ribs like a horned creature, snorting hot and pawing at his gut and stamping its hooves, jabbing at him over and over until his face felt ugly and awful and warm.

He was angry that they were lied to. That they were tricked. That their lives weren’t what they thought they were all this time.

He was angry at the pain that had been inflicted on their family. For all the tears that his siblings had cried over the past two-and-a-half weeks. He was angry at the suffering that their father had endured for the entertainment of others in a glorified fight pit. He was angry that there were people who would do that to them-- who thought that that was okay. He was angry for every drop of blood that he had lost.

He was angry at himself for believing something untrue; for how naive and silly it made him feel, even if he recognized that the circumstances were complicated to say the least. He was angry for how close he had come to letting his family slip through his fingers.

But mostly, he was angry that their father had ever agreed to go away from them.

He and his siblings had been prepared to go to the ends of the earth to find him and bring him home and reunite their family. Raph would have done anything to get him back. They all would have. They were ready to give up everything if they had to.

And he had agreed to stay away?

He had agreed to leave them behind?

He was shocked by how meaningless he could suddenly feel in the face of his own father, who had never before made him feel anything but loved.

His anger smoldered inside of him like a stubborn campfire, unwilling to be put out, even as hot tears of frustration singed their way down his face.

---

He couldn’t sleep.

Wow, what a surprise.

If he was being honest with himself, he hadn’t even tried, but he had very little interest in engaging with the process right now. Besides that, he wasn’t even that interested in the prospect of sleeping at all. Just the idea of trying to sleep right now was exhausting and wholly unappealing. He was too tired to try to fall asleep. He just wanted…

Well, he didn’t actually know what he wanted.

He supposed that’s how he had ended up here.

Leo had been curled up in the same place on the floor for hours now, his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting on his knees as he just… stared at himself in the mirror. Examined his body, a tiny frown on his face.

It looked the same. Just the same as he always had. The same stripey face and spotted belly. The same curly blonde hair with dark roots poking through. His chin curved the same way it always did, his waist still pinched the same way, his shoulders sloped just the same as they always had. 

He had never loved his body. He knew he acted all confident and cocky, and that wasn’t all for show-- there were times when he really did feel confident. Lots of times, actually. He was perfectly capable of being confident and capable and fucking bright as a person, and not as a body, and no, he wasn’t afraid to declare to anyone who wanted to listen that he was very cute, thank you very much, and yes, he did have great taste in clothes, and yes, his hair was amazing, wasn’t it? I’ll tell you what conditioner I use--

But truthfully, he didn’t love his body. He didn’t hate it, either-- it had just existed up until now. It had just been, and he had dealt with it, liked the parts that he liked and tolerated the parts he didn’t, making plans to customize in the future, and it was… okay. 

But he had never despised his own skin so deeply as he did in this moment.

Looking at himself now, he couldn’t find a single thing to enjoy. He looked at himself in the mirror and he glowered, curling his lips in disgust, even though he was unable to look away. 

It was the same as it was before. Nothing had changed. But somehow, he hated it now. 

---

Donnie had always preferred to base his world on facts and logic over emotions. He had always found that this was what worked best for him. If he collected data, examined it, and allowed these values to influence his decisions, everything tended to work out better. No, admittedly, this did not, by any means, guarantee success, much to his annoyance, but he had run the statistics, and facts worked. They were reliable. He could lean on them and count that they would hold him up. He could place his trust there.

For example--

Fact: Hamato Donatello is adept in the care of tropical plants. This was supported by a vast array of data. He had no less than two dozen different varieties of houseplants flourishing in the living room alone that he could point to support this claim, thank you very much, and they were all thriving under his expert care. This was a fact. This was something that he knew to be true. He could rely on this. He could lean on this. It would not change.

Even those that he, at times, found painful, he could still count on.

For example--

Fact: Hamato Donatello is bad at talking to new people. He didn’t like it, but it was a fact. Never in his life had he met someone and been able to strike up a conversation without, at some point, putting his foot in his mouth and fucking it up or floundering. He always seemed to find a way to mess it up, even if he didn’t realize it until later on. Even if he, in the moment, thought that things were going great! He was… better than he had been. He had learned, over time, and gotten the hang of the art of conversation, at least to a degree. People he knew, he could handle, no problem but someone new? It was just… 

It was just a bullet point in the long list of micro-facts that had always supported the claim of, “Hamato Donatello is different from other people. He doesn’t fit in, and there’s something that separates him from his peers.”

And he had always known this. He was diagnosed with autism when he was five. He had always known that he was different, that he didn’t quite match with everyone else. It had always felt like he was missing something; like handbooks or a set of rules had been passed out at some point, and he never got his copy. There were times when it had bothered him, sure, but he had long since come to terms with it. He had found people and places where he could fit, where ‘matching’ mattered a lot less, where the mold that he was expected to adhere to had far more give to it. He had spent years in therapy discussing this gap; years trying to learn the content of the missing ruleset through secondhand explanations. And even if it wasn’t always his favorite fact, it was still a fact. It was something that he knew to be true. He could rely on this. He could lean on this. It would not change.

Or, well. He had thought so.

He had set up a new spreadsheet so he could run through all the data-- so he could review what he thought he had known, and that which he could no longer rely on. He got to work measuring just how patchworked his universe had suddenly become. Began evaluating just how much of the floor was actively falling out from beneath him, and put it all into neat, numbered rows and columns. 

Fact: Hamato Donatello is an awarded athlete.

(Inconclusive. If he was only a talented swimmer because he was a mutant, could any of these accomplishments really be attributed to him, in all fairness? Further research needed.)

Fact: Hamato Donatello is autistic.

(Inconclusive. Can this diagnosis be considered valid if he was not human? There was no diagnosis criteria for turtles. Perhaps he was just odd and different and didn’t fit because he was a mutant. Or because he was a failed experiment. Further research needed.)

Fact: Hamato Donatello is a member of the Hamato family.

(Inconclusive. If he was a mutant rather than simply his father’s child, did he really belong on the family tree? Could he actually be considered a Hamato descendent? Was their father truly their father to begin with? Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello is a human being. 

(Inconclusive. Though he was still not sure what his exact standing was, or how he could be categorized now, it was very clear that he was not simply a human as previously believed. Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello is a member of society, just like everyone else, and deserves to be treated with kindness and respect by others.

(Inconclusive. He was not a human, and therefore, it could not be said that he was a ‘member of society,’ nor that he inherently deserved anything based on this status, despite what his therapist Mossy had previously taught him. This statement was based on outdated information, and could no longer be taken at face value. Further research needed.)

Fact: Donatello belongs in human society.

(Inconclusive. Further research needed.)

---

April was kind of starting to think that maybe her parents might mean it when they said she was grounded for the rest of her life. And, to be fair, she knew that she had scared them.

A lot.

She had scared herself, too. If she was being honest, she was still scared. 

It had been weeks since she had last been here, standing in her own bathroom, looking at herself in her own mirror as she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. And it was all normal, all the same as it ever was, but--

Everything that had been keeping her upright the past three weeks, the adrenaline, the survival instincts, the desire to support her brothers and stay steady and hold them up while things fell apart, the desire to protect them, to figure things out, to investigate, to fix things, it was all…

It was all gone.

Everything that had been propping her up had suddenly given way, and she had just been carried up the stairs into the apartment by her dad, her arms wrapped around his neck like she was six again, getting home from a family outing that had gone late. And now she was sitting here in her bathroom and looking at her own face in the mirror and it was her face, and not anything spooky or mutated or unfamiliar, and that felt so unfair, somehow? And--

She hiccuped softly. And then she sobbed, until she eventually sank down onto the floor, curled up in a little heap and weeping softly. 

Oh my god, what had just happened?

She could have died.

They all could have died.

Her brothers could have died. Leo could have died. She thought Leo was going to die. 

She could have died.

She still had toothpaste in her mouth, and it was getting all down her chin and the front of her shirt, and it was fucking gross but she couldn’t really get herself to care. She just sat there and she cried until her mom knocked on the door, just barely cracking it open and joining her on the cold tile floor. And then, eventually, her dad had joined her, too, and she had wrapped herself up in their arms and practically climbed into his lap and just clung to them. She really didn’t know what else to do.

Something horrible almost happened. But it hadn’t. They were all okay. They were all home, but…

God, why did she feel like her little brother was still falling?

---

The whole way home, Yoshi was terrified that one of his children would begin talking to him. Terrified that one of them would ask some question that he wouldn’t be able to answer. But the journey back to their apartment was near silent. Somehow, that was almost worse.

He thought to himself, god, why is this your main concern right now? Why are you worrying about that, of all things? What is wrong with you?

He got everyone back home. He made sure each of his children ended up safely in their own beds. And, finally, he retreated back to his own.

He’d like to say that his room was just as he had left it, but that was untrue. It had clearly been ransacked multiple times, and he groaned softly, scrubbing at his face with his hands, wondering who all had been in here and what they had uncovered. He supposed there was nothing he could do about it right now. 

He didn’t do much besides clear off his bed. One at a time, he removed the items stacked on top of it. The piles of old paperwork. The DVD cases. The dirty laundry. He didn’t have the energy to sort through any of it properly or put it away right now, so he simply placed it all to the side, stacking things on his dresser or tossing them across the room instead, promising himself that he would get to it in the morning and dreading the thought of it. 

He would have a lot of things to do in the morning.

Internally, he scolded himself. Shouldn’t he be happy? Or at least relieved? This was the best case scenario. All of his children were home, safe and sound. He was home-- he would never have to set foot in the Battle Nexus again. He was free to live his life and raise his children, wasn’t he?

But the only thing he could find in his chest was dread, no matter how deep he dug. Very gingerly, he eased himself down onto his bed, laying out flat on his back and staring up at the ceiling. There were no answers up there. He had looked many, many times before, and he already knew. At the very least, it felt good to lie down. To finally lay down properly in a bed and allow his body a proper break. 

Ah, if only he could allow his mind to do the same…

What the fuck was he going to say to them? What… could he say? How was he supposed to explain all the choices and mistakes he made-- to explain the things he had done and what he was, and then still look them in the eyes? Even worse-- would they still want to? Would they be able to look at him?

God. How could he have let this happen to them?

His eyes wandered aimlessly around his room, a very soft sigh working its way up his chest. He felt like he had come back from the dead. He felt like a ghost. A part of him had already accepted that he would never be back here. Had accepted that he would never see his children ever again. And now here they all were, right here in the same house as him. Only a few floors away.

It didn’t quite feel real yet.

He wanted, more than anything, to get up and go get them this very second. He wanted to gather them all up in his arms like he did when they were babies and pile them up in his bed with him. He wanted to hold them all and fall asleep that way, knowing that they were there and that they were close and that they were okay. He didn’t think he possibly could sleep otherwise.

But he didn’t do that.

He was afraid that if he tried, they wouldn’t want to come with him. And that fear was enough to keep him pinned in place, cold and still, staring blankly up at the ceiling.

He knew they were upset. He could feel that they were upset, and how could he blame them? They were justified. They had every right to be upset, to be angry with him, to hate him, after all he had kept from them! After all the ways he had failed them. He just…

He hadn’t known what else to do.

He still didn’t know what else to do.

This had never been his intention.

---

“Dad--”

“Don’t run in the house,” he replied, not even looking down at his son as he dashed into the kitchen, quite nearly crashing into his leg.

“I wasn’t!” Leo protested, even though he most certainly was, rolling his eyes with a huff. “Dad, I’m gonna be late! Hurry up! Justin and Ben are already waiting for me!”

“Oh, well, if I am going too slowly, I suppose that you can pack your own snacks for camp from now on--”

“Dad!”

“So ungrateful,” he tsked, scooping the last of the vegetables he was slicing up into his son’s bento box, handing it over to the impatient eight-year-old. “There. All the carrot sticks and sugar snap peas that a little turtle could ever ask for,” he teased. A rarely used nickname, but one that sugar peas always made him think of, given how excitedly they would be devoured on the rare occasion he was able to offer some when they were small.

Leo scoffed as he accepted the offering, shoving it into his backpack. “Dad, we’re too old for that game. We don’t play turtles anymore,” he huffed.

Yoshi froze.

“What?”

“We’re not little kids, Dad! We don’t play make-believe anymore!” Leo said matter-of-factly, shooting his dad an absolute withering look. Yoshi floundered for a moment, struggling to find his tongue, which suddenly felt heavy in his mouth, before he finally nodded. 

“Yes… of course.”

“I’ll be home later! Tell Donnie not to go in my room or else I’ll know!” Leo yelled over his shoulder as he ran out the door, hopping down the steps to meet his two classmates who were attending the same summer camp, and Justin’s mother, who had kindly offered to walk them to the bus stop each morning. Yoshi watched him go, and he waved, but things felt… far off. 

He sat down on the kitchen chair once Leo was gone, and thought about the conversation for quite some time, wondering if he had understood correctly. 

After sitting there for about twenty minutes, he eventually got to his feet, shuffling up the stairs to Mikey’s room and knocking gently on the door.

“Yeahhhhhh?”

Yoshi peeked his head in, unsurprised to find his youngest bent over some elaborate arts and crafts project, currently busying himself in taping a pack of construction paper together to create a massive canvas, no doubt for his latest masterpiece. Yoshi sighed very softly through his nose, smiling for just a second as he shuffled his way in.

“What are you working on, my son?”

“‘S gonna be a painting. But I want it to be big!” He explained, throwing his hands out to illustrate. “So I’m making a super big paper to paint on first.”

“Ah, I see. You will have to show me when you are done. I’m sure it’ll be very impressive.”

“Mmm-hmmmm,” Mikey confirmed, quickly returning his attention back to his project, his tongue sticking out from between his lips with his intense focus. Yoshi hesitated for a moment before he spoke again.

“Orange, do you remember… playing turtles?”

“Yeah,” Mikey replied easily. “Why?”

“Well,” he wobbled for a second, choosing his words carefully. “What do you remember?”

“Uhhh,” Mikey tilted his head to the side for a second before he shrugged. “I dunno. It was just a game we used to play. We used to pretend to be turtles and stuff when we were little. We used to play it all the time!” He chirped. “Buuuuut we don’t really play it much anymore. Leo says we’re ‘too old’ for make-believe,” he sighed. “But he still plays Jupiter Jim. He says that’s ‘acting’ and it’s different, but it’s not,” he informed their father, giving him an exasperated look, as if to say, ‘can you believe he would say something like that?’

“... Ah. I see. Thank you, Mikey.”

“Why?” Mikey asked again, and Yoshi swallowed.

“Nothing, no reason! I was just thinking of something else… Also, ah, I wanted to ask you, what do you think about pizza for dinner tonight, my son?” 

“YEAH! PIZZA!” Mikey immediately cheered, his face lighting up, and Yoshi inwardly sighed in relief. Pizza for dinner was a small price to pay to put an end to this conversation. After taking a few requests (demands) regarding toppings and which place they should order from, Yoshi was eventually able to escape from his child’s room, closing the door behind him as he made his way back out into the hall.

He slumped against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.

They… 

Forgot. He hadn’t ever imagined that they would forget.

[ next ]

[bambiraptorx]

What is your opinion on the mystical magenta goat man? (Draxum)

Good dad? Deserved more screentime/emotional moments with the bois? (they gave us like 2 moments like that in the finale, and I'm sad that it's all we got)

owo

Ooh, I have so many thoughts about Draxum. Buckle up.

First of all, it's worst mentioning that when I started watching Rise, I knew ahead of time that he would get a redemption arc. (Reading the wiki and watching clips/analysis videos is what got me interested in the show, after all.) So admittedly, my view of how his redemption arc went was a little skewed just because I knew from the start that it would happen.

Personally, I wish more of it had been actually shown in the show. We get about ten seconds of him helpless in an alley then a hard cut to him in his apartment being bullied by Mikey, and I would love to see how that series of events played out. Also, his arc from mortal enemy to somewhat trusted by the turtles happened in one eleven minute episode, and I would have loved to see that tension be played with a little more. I do understand that the show was cut short, though, and I'm pretty happy with what we did get.

*looks at all my fics* honestly, I think part of the reason that they're all more or less about Draxum spending time with the turtles one way or another is because that dynamic was so underdeveloped and several things went unaddressed in order to give the show a decently cohesive finale.

For example, the roof incident. Leo is clearly very bitter about it and clearly mistrusts Draxum because of it, but the show just didn't have the opportunity to address it. Another issue that had to go unresolved was Draxum's relationship to Cassandra, because she seriously looked up to/trusted him in their episode together but he more or less threw her under the bus.

Not to mention all the little things that canon hints at but doesn't show. Like, somehow Donnie has Draxum's phone number, meaning they had at least one conversation off screen. How did that happen? Do they hang out or something? And really, the whole story of how Mikey got Draxum to move into an apartment and let him come over is so unexplored, at least within the show.

And speaking of things that canon doesn't show, I find Draxum's position among yokai to be absolutely fascinating, especially given that the only yokai he deals with in the show itself are antagonists to him (Big Mama, the Council of Heads, the cops) aside from the gargoyles.

There's a pretty big hole there about how he interacted with the rest of the Hidden CIty-- did he have friends? DId people know about his research and mutations? What did people think about him? And obviously the narrative doesn't address this because the story is about the turtles, not him. But still.

And why did he choose to create mutants in the first place? Its fascinating that the prophecy that motivates him is never actually shown in the show itself, just referenced. Why was mutating humans the best option to him? Did he try other things? When exactly did the Council tell him not to create warriors?

The timeline is pretty fuzzy, and frankly Draxum's motives aren't actually all that clear. That's probably why there's so many different interpretations of why he's doing what he's doing (and what, exactly, he's actually doing) throughout the fandom-- canon doesn't address it super deeply.

So yeah, his relationships with the turtles are really fun to think about and mess around with, but the gaps in the narrative (not a perfect phrase but the general idea) around him are fascinating to explore in their own right. And whether canon would have explored him more or not, I think its fun so I'm gonna do it lol. I have built so much lore about this man (almost none of which has showed up in my stories) because he's fun.

And he is genuinely a fun character, whether pre or post redemption. He's dramatic, he's arrogant, he makes bad quips (seriously, he has a line about "how very NOT NICE to see you" at one point, and that's how my sister used to talk before she figured out how to actually be sarcastic). He, the big bad of season one, ends up as a lunch lady at one point, which is frankly absurd and absolutely in tone for the kind of show that Rise is. He's a powerhouse at times and completely out of his element at others.

And once he's no longer actively fighting the turtles most of his screen time, there's a goofiness to the nature of his character, a powerful alchemist/warrior trying to live a normal life (mostly because a thirteen year old will yell at him otherwise) and not even trying that hard. Season 2 especially does a lot of fun things with his character, and I only wish that they're been able to do more.

TLDR: Draxum is probably my favorite character, and also I want to hit him with the hammer of 'forced to deal with teenagers'.

[blye-flower]

Me again on the DNAngel au!

One! ...What exactly is a "Principality" ? Do the angels like, represent different principles? (And what were/are they if so?)

Two! So an Angel can fall, but regain their prior status, can demons do the same? Also, why wouldn't Leo "I'm nothing without them" sabotage himself to get kicked out too?

(Unless something else bad would happen instead..?)

And, does April tell anyone about Donnie, and so they ever get like... Found out? (I assume the relationship is frowned upon) (They are SUPER cute btw!!!)

Thanks so much for being open to questions!!!!

Hello again!! Good to see you lol

So, I'm not gonna get too much into the question regarding the principalities here only cause I'm gonna make a post explaining the hierarchy of angels (and maybe demons, tho theirs is slightly less put together because "chaos"), but I will say that they govern the principles of large groups! Their job is to make sure the morality of leaders in groups stay straight, and to report to heaven when/if it doesn't.

And yes! Demons can work to regain their angel status (that's what Raph is trying to do actually, but he's too good at being bad, so he's struggling qnsbsnd) As for Leo, of course, he could sabotage himself, however, while I consider Leo a clever character, his wants are so painfully written on his face that the heavens know becoming a demon would be a grace to him, not a punishment. While the hugher-up angels are very impersonal, they're not so impersonal that they can't figure out someone's desires. So, at best, they would demote him into a fallen angel, and unfortunately fallen angels can't stay in Hell long or else they'll begin to molt and their wings become useless. Besides, there are two pretty angels in heaven that Leo has the intentions of wooing, so he can't risk being wingless in Hell for the rest of his eternal life. And since his brothers hold nothing against him and they're all still able to see each other, an angel Leo remains.

And surprisingly yes. She tells Sunita and Leo finds out because of Donnie. Initially, Donnie pulls the old "I wanna follow after you because I want to become an angel again 🥺" ploy on her, and she's so excited that someone recognized her skills as a do-gooder that she can't help excitedly tell Sunita about it. She starts to get shy about it when Kendra kinda figures it out, and for a while, she treats Donnie like a dirty little secret (which is not easy to hide because her halo would literally form a heart whenever she's lost on cloud nine about Donnie).

Their relationship is frowned upon, yes, but not in the sense that she'll necessarily have to become a demon or a fallen angel, because demons are essentially just angels under new management in this AU. So in the end, it's a slightly less intense Romeo and Juliet situation.

But it does mess with April's already ruined reputation, but going along with her canon character arc, April kinda learns to accept the fact that she's a bit unorthodox, but there are people who are gonna love her regardless of it.

Once again, thank you for the questions!! The interest in this silly little au has me so motivated to make more of it ^^

[moonchildreads]

and now that we're on it, i was actually thinking about dot and eddie last night. i remembered the first time they meet thanks to hellfire and dot proves eddie's expectations wrong by showing that she's not just a cute and pretty face, but she knows her dnd shit.

now i know that i'm bringing you a bit of an au here but i was wondering how do you think things would have progressed between them if dot hadn't had a background that made her know this stuff? like, everything is the same but james and his friends met for different reasons so she doesn't know much of dnd? how would she and eddie meet and fall in love? or if she'd gone to hellfire without knowing much bc dustin was very nice when he asked her to join their club? how would their story go without that? bc my original theory was "no, dnd is an intrinsic part of their relationship, it's an unskippable part of their story together" but then i entertained the thought and said "ok but what if???"

okay babes buckle up i'm off work now and this is gonna be a wild ride.

full transparency here, i hadn't thought about it before but now that you bring this question to me i realise that i've always known the answer so thank you for that insight into my own story? lmao i love you. anyways, short answer: if dustin hadn't invited dottie to hellfire, they wouldn't have interacted with each other at all. end of story. dot has no desire to buy weed from eddie, and eddie isn't exactly in the business of talking to random girls (he's bitchless, let's be real here). the long answer is, however, much more intriguing which i'm guessing is what you're here for so i'm gonna spill my guts here for you under the cut about what happens if dustin invites her but she doesn't know dnd:

if dustin invites dot and she goes without knowing what dnd is, here's where it gets interesting because you mention that dnd is intrinsic to their relationship but it actually isn't. it's not dnd what brings them together, it's dottie's eagerness.

[...] “Do you want to watch today, see how everything works?” “If you think that’s the best, sure,” she said, and he noticed she looked a little deflated. “Or not. Trial by fire,” he smiled. [...]

in that bit from chapter 3, eddie doesn't know she knows her shit yet. all he knows is that a pretty girl is in front of him, treating him nicely and wanting to learn about something he loves. he doesn't know her, she's a new student he hasn't really paid too much attention to, but he sees that she's nervous and notices that she doesn't seem to have an ulterior motive: she walked in, asked for dustin and didn't realise he was the dungeon master until she saw his supplies on the table. so she's not here for him, she's here for the game. she wants to learn. now, eddie could go about it two different ways: 1) he gatekeeps like he tried to do with erica until she knocked him down a few pegs, or 2) he acts calm and tries to make her feel at ease like he did with chrissy in the woods. i think in this case, knowing what happened after he was friendly with chrissy, he'd go the same route because not only does he explicitly think dottie's enthusiasm is adorable, he's also been proven wrong twice by women he's recently met (erica and chrissy).

and here is where it gets interesting, because now we have dottie recognising that he knows his shit and wanting to learn from him, and we have eddie getting something he normally doesn't, which is someone who doesn't judge. someone who wants to get to know the ins and outs of the very thing that he loves, who doesn't care who he is, or who anyone in hellfire is, she just wants to learn. and we see this time and time again throughout small town, because dottie doesn't know anything about metal music, but she still accepts donny's mixtape and listens to it during the weekend so she can talk to him about it on monday. we see dottie being interested in gareth's background as a jazz drummer, she switches seats to sit with all of them during shared classes after knowing them for one single day. eagerness is all dottie knows, because she's used to molding herself to what everyone else wants her to be in order to have friends. so she asks questions, she learns about things because if she shows interest, then maybe others will show interest in her too. it hasn't worked for her so far, but she's never met anyone like the hellfire boys before.

see, this story doesn't work if both sides aren't equally eager. they are all desperate to fit in somewhere, and the boys have found that they fit into hellfire and with each other. so dottie coming along and not only asking to be let in, but also putting in the work to get to know them feels so special to all of them. here comes this unasumming girl that was deemed so fucking uninteresting that hawkins high forgot she existed two weeks after she transferred and she's actually so goddamn awesome! she comes from the big city! she doesn't care if they are a bit of a weirdo bunch, she's not poisoned by the hawkins rumor mill, and quite frankly, she's a freak herself! she has her own opinions and will voice them, she enjoys high fantasy, loves music, and is kind of a nerd! she's just so desperate for love and the only way she knows how to ask for it, is to throw it to everyone who so much as looks at her, and the boys in hellfire reciprocate so easily because this never happens to them! no one treats them like they are normal but she does! so the way eddie falls in love with her is the same way all of hellfire falls in love with her: she loved them first and kept loving them so hard they had no reason to doubt her.

yeah, she doesn't know how to play dnd. it might be a little bit annoying for a table of experienced players, but eddie takes the outcasts in and dottie has spent the last two months eating lunch alone with her headphones on. they are all the same kind of broken people, searching for someone to look at them and tell them "i see you, because i am you, and i get you". so for eddie to not fall in love with her, no one in hellfire should love her, and that was never going to happen because she showed up with snacks to a club she knew nothing about because a fifteen year old told her it was cool. eddie never stood a chance.

[jaydawnsin]

10/19/2022

I want to write something in response to a comment I got on Vanity, Thy Name is Leo, but I don’t wanna publish it yet cause there’s spoilers for what I intend to do with the story, so this is a scheduled post. I want so badly to respond but responding would ruin the surprises I have in store for this fic, that I’m assuming is now complete as of the posting of this post. I hope it’s complete, it’ll be about 3 months before this post is published xD

This is not a call to witch hunt this person, in fact I'm glad they left this comment cause it made me really deep dive into the motivations for why the characters in VTNiL act the way they do and it was honestly a really nice comment overall. The comment was, and I'm paraphrasing heavily here, "I wonder why Leo is so vain in your story when, in canon, he's really not."

To answer this question, I'm gonna go into the features of First Person Perspective. Stick with me here, I have my reasons and it’ll make sense soon.

First Person is a way of writing a story where you’re basically in someone's head for the duration of the story, chapter, etc. You see what they see, you experience what they experience, and the only information you have is the information that that character has. This is important.

The pros of this are that you know exactly what the character is thinking and the view you get of the story is very personal. It makes it easy to feel an emotional attachment to the story because the character is invested in their own life for obvious reasons.

The cons are that you only know what that character knows. If that character has a bias or preconceived notion about something or someone, or if they don’t have all the facts, which they almost never do, you will experience that bias, that lack of information, and maybe assume that you have all of the facts when you really don’t.

Fan fiction is mainly written in 3rd person in my experience, as someone who’s been reading fan fiction for fifteen years and reads thousands of words almost every day. We’re very used to getting a holistic view of the plot, which has its perks, but we don’t get that in 1st so you may not realize that a character is an unreliable narrator until the perspective shifts to a very different one.

Why is this important? Well, let's look at how VTNiL starts. The opening line is "Leon is the most vain person I know." This is true. Donnie doesn’t have a lot of friends, so Leo, from Donnie's perspective, with his love of things relating to self expression and self care, is actually be extremely vain in Donnie's opinion.

But here's the thing. The first line of the story, the entire first chapter even, is dripping in a distorted perspective of Leo's character. Leo looks vain in comparison to what Donnie values because Donnie doesn’t care about his appearance all that much.

If we were going to look at this from a holistic POV, here are the facts:

- Leo does care about his appearance, but he only takes like 30-45 mins to get ready, not the hours that Donnie says, not because Donnie's lying, but because Donnie is Leo's brother and he's bound to find Leo doing something that he doesn’t see much value in as frustrating and time consuming, especially when it stops them from doing what he needs to do to get ready for school, something Donnie cares very much about. It's an exaggeration based off of frustration, something that people do all of the time.

- Leo also hasn’t filled the entire bathroom full of cosmetics. He has a few items that he needs and likes, but Donnie sees it as a lot because he doesn’t care for this type of thing.

- Lastly, Leo caring about his appearance isn’t rooted in self love or a feeling that he’s more attractive than others, it’s rooted in his lack of self worth. Leo only gets praise and attention for his looks. He’s intelligent, but when you sit him next to Donnie, they outshine him. He’s strong, but Raph is a hulk of a dude so in comparison, he looks like a twig. He’s creative, but Mikey is the artist of the family. Leo’s charismatic and attractive and people flock to him because of this, but his appearance isn’t something he necessarily worked for, in his opinion. It’s not a talent, it’s just his face. Never mind that it does take talent to put together outfits and makeup that look cohesive, that styling his hair to look so nice is an actual skill that he needed to learn, compared to his siblings, he feels over shadowed.

So to answer the question posed by my lovely reader, why does this version of Leo obsess over his appearance when in canon he doesn't? The answer is that he isn’t obsessed with his appearance. He’s obsessed with other people’s opinion of him and that’s intrinsically tied to his appearance in this AU, but if his intelligence was the thing getting him attention, he would put a lot of effort into studying because this boy is starved for affection. Splinter isn’t the best father, he’s not gonna show up a whole lot in this story from what I remember of my outline, and his absence is a statement in and of itself. Splinter is not there for his sons emotional well being. Raph is basically the parent of his siblings, but he’s only a year or two older than Leo. He’s not gonna get everything right and the emotional neglect a child experiences from early on in life is hard to heal. If someone is starved for affection the way these boys are in this au, they’re gonna do what they need to do to get it. Raph becomes protective of his siblings, Mikey finds friends at school through his love of art, and Donnie has online friends that he spends time with but Donnie also tends to be avoidant of people. Leo went the opposite way and let everyone’s opinion of him affect his self worth and that’s not healthy.

Going back to the point I was trying to make, I felt like it was important to overemphasis how much Leo works on his appearance because when Leo doesn’t spend as much time on his appearance as usual, Donnie notices and that is the important part. Donnie doesn’t see their brother as someone that is starved for affection, he sees his brother as a sort of peacock. Very showy, loud, and colorful. Attention grabbing, not attention seeking. They have a very surface level understanding of Leo’s motivations.

The important part of that chapter was that this is the moment that Donnie, a person who by all accounts is not great at understanding people and emotions, someone who also doesn’t understand Leo as a person because their view points of the world are so different, notices that Leo is acting different. Leo’s been acting different for months at this point, but this is the point where the least likely person to noticed does take notice. That is what I want the focus to be on, because Leo as a character is not very open about how he truly feels. He hides behind his different masks, deflects constantly, and never seems to take anything seriously and if you catch a glimpse of genuine emotion, it’s either because he did it on purpose or because his mask is slipping. You as the reader didn’t have enough information yet because this was only the first chapter and you’ve only read Donnie’s perspective as of the writing of this post.

By all accounts, the assumption most readers will probably make is that I as a writer don’t understand Leo as a character, not that I’m distorting Donnie’s perspective. To be completely fair, the former is the more likely option than the latter so I understand the natural inclination.

By the way, the title of the story is also a cheeky little joke. It’s titled like that because it’s the first thing the reader is told about Leo and the first thing I told you about Leo is a statement that is fundamentally incorrect about his character. It’s a trait that’s important to his character in this AU that will be explored as I continue to write the story, but it’s exaggerated and biased. This story is a lesson in realizing that we don’t always know what’s going on in other people’s lives and our view of those around us is fundamentally imperfect and biased, even when it’s someone that we should, by all accounts, be very close to. It’s something I, as an actual person in real life, have had to learn the hard way and it’s something I try to remind myself of frequently.

This isn’t to say that the commenter is dumb for not noticing these very small details and coming to the intended conclusion, btw. I could tell that they were already questioning what was happening in the story and it made me so excited to see someone contemplating what I intended to happen! It shows an investment in something that I created and I think that’s absolutely fantastic.

We as fan fiction readers and writers are used to overloading and being overloaded by entirely too many details, which I’m not knocking. I love highly detailed stories, I eat that shit up, but when a story doesn’t do that, it’s hard for us to realize how much depth is intended with the details that we do get, especially when it’s only around 1,000 words at first. A fan fic reader may be reading upwards of 30k words a night, if they’re anything like me at least, and 1,100 words is a tiny amount to try to read into when I haven’t given ya’ll a whole lot to work with. That being said, just about everything I include has a purpose. Raph noticing that April’s at a restaurant in chapter two, for example, is a subtle way of hinting that Leo probably isn’t with her and that she’s busy with her family so she can’t help them look for Leo right now. It’s a way of telling you that information without actually telling you.

So to end this off, thank you for the comment @obsessingoverthisandthat. It was the first comment I got on VTNiL and while I absolutely adore reading all of the other comments, this particular one had me sitting for hours thinking about this question and fundamentally changed the direction I decided to take this story.

[glowinggator]

Friendly Competition

Request:  Now I can’t get the image of Mikey and Leo prancing around the lair to try to impress Y/N and Raph and Donnie just exchanging glances like wth in response to this X,D Wait, are you open to requests? Because then I’d totally request if you could do the idea of Leo and Mikey trying to impress Y/N in outdoing each other…

Characters: Leonardo (Pining)/Reader/Michelangelo (Pining)

Content Warnings: Swearing, really brief reference to The Walking Dead (Season 4). 

Word Count: 1946 

“Carl, Carl! Oh my god, dude,” Mikey squeals, clinging tightly to Raph’s side. Any other day, you might have laughed a little at his reaction - once a little brother, always a little brother - but you’re not in much better standing this time. The boy on TV backs slowly away from the zombies a little overconfidently for your liking, and you can’t suppress the rush of anxiety that courses through you. He’s a TV character, sure, but you’ve watched him grow up! He can’t die now, right? 

And when the third walker appears, grabbing onto the young boy and pulling him down, you could have sworn the whole lair screamed. The room is filled with the “no’s” and various swears of your friends as the kid fights for his life, and you press yourself further into the couch to try and put some distance between you and the TV. You flinch at the sound of gunshots as he pushes the walkers away, barely managing to stay alive, when suddenly the room is pierced with a noise that’s somehow even more jarring and terrifying. 

Battle alarm. Of course. Some yokai...alien… whatever it is... had to terrorize New York City now, of all times? 

"Couldn't this have been an email or something? Really, the nerve of some people. Interrupting The Walking Dead now, of all times," You groan jokingly, pausing the show for the boys as they rise to their feet. 

“If you unpause it while we’re gone, I will take you as a prisoner of war and treat the Geneva Convention as a to-do-list,” Donatello snarks. 

You stick your tongue out at him, but you can’t help but giggle. “Noted, D. Hurry back guys, stay safe!” 

“We will!” Raphael calls, waving to you with a smile before stopping at the exit of the lair, waiting for his brothers to catch up. Donatello walks right past him, balancing his tech bō over the expanse of his shoulders. You smile and wave back at Raph, but soon after, you’re met with the excited cheers of Mikey. He takes a running start at one of the nearby guard rails, grinning as he lines himself up at an angle. He jumps, grabbing the bar and spinning himself around it with ease to face you. In the brief second where your eyes lock, he shoots you a wink and a grin, before spinning himself back around and walking off. I mean, you know he’s a ninja and all, but has he always been that smooth with his parkour? Or like, that smooth in general? 

He waves quickly at you with a smile and walks straight past Raph and into the tunnels of the sewer system. “Later, angel!” He chirps. 

Leo boos before taking a running start of his own. Not to be outdone, he avoids the bar completely, instead choosing to flip over it entirely. He clears the bar with ease, landing on one leg and sweeping the other under him to perform a small rotation towards the ground. As he regains his balance, he pushes himself up with one hand and removes his feet from the ground to do another rotation before planting them once more and performing an angled flip. His movements are quick and fluid, as though such acrobatic feats were innate to his nature. As he lands he grins and shoots you a pair of fingerguns - which you laugh at softly - before backing out of the lair. “Later, sweetheart,” he coos, and turns around to walk out properly. You chuckle again once you hear Mikey’s voice echo from the sewers. 

“Show-off.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You swish the warm drink around in your mug and take a sip. You practically purr at the heat as it hits your tongue: it’s been far too cold for your liking lately. Or, maybe you’re spending too much time in the sewers. Maybe you should invest in some space heaters, if you’re gonna be down here all the time. You twiddle a pencil between your fingers as you fill out the tattered crossword in a vain attempt to wake your brain up a little. Who was Aphrodite’s son again? Did she even have a son? You suppose you’ll get back to that one. 

Raphael stumbles into the kitchen with a groan, fumbling around for a fresh mug. “Good mornin’, Y/N.” 

“Good morning, Raph,” you reply. 

He finally manages to find a mug, pouring some coffee and creamer and pulling up a chair next to you. He leans his head in his hands, clearly not awake yet. You chuckle. “Sleepy?”

He hums affirmatively and takes a sip of his coffee. You pat his shell gently and return to your crossword. You’ve never felt more like an adult, you think sarcastically. It’s like some scene out of a Lifetime movie. 

Out of nowhere, there comes a loud thump from the common area, followed by the quiet swears of Leo. You damn-near jump out of your seat at the sudden noise, barely managing to keep your drink in your mug. It sloshes around the rim, and you quickly put your hand up to steady it. Raph, meanwhile, stays glued to his seat, seemingly unbothered by the loud noise. “Good morning,” he repeats. You snort. “Good morning, indeed,” you reply. 

After a moment of thought, you set down your cup and rise to your feet. You might as well check out the noise and make sure everything is okay. You pat Raph’s head one last time before walking out into the living room, only to find Mikey and Leo whispering loudly at one another. Their voices are so hushed that it’s difficult to decipher what exactly they’re saying, although you can certainly hear them. But judging by the force behind the indecipherable words - and the overexaggerated hand motions - it clearly isn’t a friendly discussion. You clear your throat and wave gently at them, which catches their attention. 

“Everything okay?” You venture. 

“Yeah-” says Mikey. 

“Yeah- It’s- Everything’s all good,” Leo stumbles, only to be cut off by his brother.

“Why wouldn’t it be?” He elbows Leo harshly, emphasizing some point to his brother that you’re clearly missing. 

“Hunky-dorey.” 

“Peachy-keen”

“Perfect.” 

The two keep stuttering and stammering, occasionally elbowing the other without warning. You raise an eyebrow at the strange behavior, and decide to intervene. “Okay,” you drawl, “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just hear… whatever that was. For your guys’ sake.” You joke lightly, attempting to lighten the mood a little and divert the attention away from that… trainwreck of an interaction. And the boys seem all-too-happy for the excuse, as Leo quickly jumps in with a quick question. 

“Hey, now that you’re here, could you do us a huge favor? We’re having a little…” he pauses, “brotherly competition, and we need someone unbiased to judge.” 

“Oh, that sounds fun!” You chirp, “What kind of competition is it?” 

“It’s-” 

“It’s a parkour competition!” Mikey interjects. 

The tension between the two turtles is thick, and you certainly don’t want to be the one to address it. Perhaps if you ignore it, it’ll go away on its own? Maybe they both woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning, or maybe this competition has high stakes? You sigh internally: it’s too early to be thinking this hard. “Sweet! I’m ready to be impressed,” you jest. “Who’s going first?” 

“Me!” 

“I will!” 

They reply in unison, cutting each other off for the umpteenth time today. You chuckle and roll your eyes, which catches their attention. You don’t miss the way their eyes light up… or the way Mikey begins to smirk. He looks almost devious, although you suppose such a mischievous look isn’t an uncommon sight with him. 

“Leo,” he starts, “How about you go first?” 

He takes the bait with a grin, clearly unaware of whatever plan Michelangelo’s formed. “Why certainly!” He rolls his wrist around in an overexaggerated motion, beaming with absolute confidence. “As the eldest brother in the room, I’d be happy to show you how it’s done.” 

And with that, he’s off. His movements are as smooth as silk as he runs towards the nearest crate, grabbing it at an angle to flip himself over once. He lands on his feet with a loud “thump” against the concrete, but he doesn’t waste a moment as he runs towards the nearest wall. He runs up its length the moment he’s in range, this time using his body weight to spin himself during his flip. He’s fluid in his movements, years of practice and training shining through in this brief moment. This time he lands straight up on both feet, although he doesn’t take any reprieve. Instead, he kicks himself up and over, sweeping the leg to enter a combative stance. A final flourish in his display, you assume. And just like that, it’s over. The show only lasted a matter of seconds, but it’s still enough to leave you starry-eyed and in awe. 

“That was fucking badass, Leo!” You clap. 

“Really?” He smiles, “Uh, I mean, yeah! Thanks!” He fumbles with his hands for a moment before finding a spot for them. He rests them behind his head, shifting side to side on his feet. God, that’s so fucking cute. 

You beam: You can’t wait to see what Mikey does! “Think you can top that, Mikey?” 

He returns your excitement wholeheartedly, shining back with something that seems like… so much more than his typical positivity. In most situations, he radiates so much positivity that one could liken it to a lighthouse for the hopeful. But his attitude seems different from that usual beacon of light. He’s excited, positive, and confident, but that’s not what’s throwing you off. Sure, they’re competitive, but what’s the motivator this time? Ah, you suppose you’ll find out soon enough. You’re brought out of your thoughts by his cheers. “Easy!” 

And god, Mikey’s movements are so graceful that he makes Leo’s look inexperienced, like a giraffe crossing a tightrope. He moves like a swan through water, scaling walls effortlessly and flying through the air like it’s his second home. He starts his routine off strong, leaping at the first waist-high object he could lay his eyes on, performing an impromptu 720 rotation and landing on the concrete protrusion hands-first. He leaps off it as quickly as he landed, using his momentum to propel himself onto a nearby set of steel bars. He throws himself from one to the other with ease, spinning and adding his own flair to each and every movement. You can’t seem to take your eyes off of him while he leaps his way to victory. He uses any ledge possible to propel himself higher and higher, and his movements are so light and quick that they hardly make a sound. And before you know it, he’s standing at the topmost bit of the lair. He plops himself down, dangling his legs off of the precipice and swinging them back and forth. From this far away, you can barely see the way his grin stretches across his face, but you know it’s there. He raises one hand to wave at you and Leo, and the way he wiggles his fingers signals that he knows he’s won. And to be fair, he has. You giggle at the way Leo mutters “show-off” under his breath - where have you heard that one before? - before signaling for Mikey that he’s won and to head on down. And god, the descent is just as impressive. He laughs as he kicks and spins his way down, and despite the competition being over, he continues to shine and demonstrate his skills flawlessly. 

“One and one, baby!”

[heyheydidjaknow]

Okay, so I am just the worst. I'm very sorry for that. I will make an effort to stop being the worst. I'm already starting writing for the next chapter. It will be out next week. If it is not, please pester me until it is. If nothing else, the next chapter should be relatively interesting, so.

Chapter 15

“So then I was like, ‘Screw you, man, you don’t know me.’ Because he was being a dick.”

You nod, taking another sip from your straw. “So he was.”

“Well,” Casey continues, gesturing with his pizza slice, “that’s why he gave me a black eye on the ice. And now Annie won’t talk to me.”

With a sigh, you reach up, wincing slightly as the muscles in your back crack. “Well,” you smile tiredly, “that does sound like a predicament. Want me to try talking to her?”

“Nah.” He leans against his hand, taking a bite of his food. “It’s whatever. Didn’t like her, anyway.”

You smirk. “Bullshit.”

“Smartass.” He rolls his busted eyes. “How’s your boyfriend?”

“Nonexistent.”

“Bullshit,” he mimics. “Isn’t he all over you?”

“Hardly.” You wave your hand dismissively. “‘Sides, he doesn’t want a relationship, I bet.”

“You slept together.” He swallows. “You slept together and he didn’t make a pass at you.”

“What does that prove?” You take another drink. “Just because he or I want it to happen doesn’t mean that it should.”

“Bullshit,” he sings once more. “You’re just scared of commitment, I bet.”

Your face flushes. “That’s not it!”

“Then why not ask him?”

“Look,” you fumble for an excuse that was not ‘He’s a ninja,’ “he’s really busy, what with his sports and science stuff. I’m lucky he has time for me at all; what we have is fine until things calm down a bit with him.”

“So never.”

“Pretty much.”

Another bite. “If he’s so smart, won’t he be going off to Harvard or some shit? Shoot your shot.”

“Who are you to give me relationship advice?” You push him, placing your hand on the pizza box between you on the bench. “You just fucked up with Johanna.”

“Maybe the reason you two are still virgins is that you’re both smartasses.”

“We’re like fifteen!” You laugh. “What, you’re a lady killer now?”

“Hey, I’ve made my rounds.” He grins. “You know the blond chick? Jenny?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “She is completely out of your league, Jones,” you huff. “Know your place.”

“And she’s in yours?”

“Did I say that?” You take another sip. “No, I did not.”

He sighs. “I’m gonna set you up.”

You blink at this sudden change in subject matter. “Huh?”

“There’s this guy on the team who has a thing for you.” He takes another bite of his pizza. “I promised I’d try.”

“Out of the goodness of your heart?”

“Surprisingly, yes.” He leans back on the bench, head flopping back. “We’ve been buddies for a while.”

Your eyes trace the cracks in the pavement carelessly, weighing your options. “Where?”

“I’m looking for a yes or no.”

You fiddle with your collar. “Which guy?”

“Carter from bio.”

With bright green eyes, long black hair, you can hardly describe him as ugly. A bit pompous, but not irredeemably so. The idea of going on a date with another man-- another human, no less-- is hardly unappealing, especially given the fact that you are almost completely certain that whatever you have going on between yourself and Donatello is going to go exactly nowhere. It would be nice, you know, to go out to lunch or dinner with a pretty boy.

Your gut tells you it is a bad idea. Your gut also told you to go try and check out Shredder’s lair that one time, and now you could not walk.

“I’m down.” Why not? Life is about taking risks that do not result in your lack of motor functions. “You got his number?”

He nods, pulling his phone out of his pocket and texting you the contact. “He’s a good guy,” he promises. “He’s not gonna try shit, probably.”

“You sound certain.”

“Shut up.” He scrolls through his phone. “Who knows, though? Maybe you’ll like him more than your guy and you won’t have to keep pining over him.”

“And there’s the ulterior motive.” You cross your arms, setting the cup on the ground. “If I get stood up, it’s your ass.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He leans his head back forward, picking at his nails absentmindedly. “Whatcha gonna do? Fight me?”

You smirk. “It’s as realistic as you getting with Jennifer Barker.”

“And that’s my cue to leave.” He stands up, wiping his hands on his jeans and taking the box. “I’m taking this.”

“Have at it,” you follow suit, checking the time. “Don’t eat it all at once.”

“I will absolutely ignore your advice.”

“Obviously.” You wave. “See ya tomorrow.”

“See ya.”

The walk home is long, as always, but with every passing day, you get better at walking with one good leg. Having lost it in the dumpster with little more than reassurance that knowing whoever took it needed it more than you do, you have learned a thing or two about balance, and yet you still quietly long for your other leg. ‘It would be nice to be able to run places,’ you muse. ‘It would make me feel better about walking around at this time of night.’ With all the walking you have to do— you still do not have a metro card because you are foolish— you are still relatively strong, but getting places without hobbling and having the option to run away would be nice.

You unlock the door to your apartment. ‘Just a couple more days before I can walk properly again.’ You pull it open, kicking your shoe off.

Someone is sitting on your couch.

You take a shaky step back— ‘I can’t run’—, tripping on your feet and falling on your back in the hallway, your drink spilled on the floor. It is as if your body is struck with lightning, every nerve on edge as you crawl away, voice caught in your throat as you try and get as far away from the door as possible. Your body drags with you.

Too slow.

A hand grabs your ankle. It drags you back into the room with barely a grunt, and with a slam, the door shuts, and you are locked with a figure whose face you cannot see.

The door locks.

The figure lets go of your ankle, heart pounding in your heart as you try and reach for the doorknob, tears pricking your eyes. You can barely use your hands again, progress gone in an instant. ‘Don’t kill me.’ You pray to stop shaking. ‘I can’t die here. Not after everything that’s happened.’

The light clicks on.

“What the fuck is your deal?”

Your eyes snap open. A rush of embarrassment slams into you, a wave of shame making you hot all over as you become painfully aware of the fact that you look absolutely pathetic, clawing at the door.

You pull yourself to your feet shakily, turning back to look at Raphael. “You,” you mumble, opening the door and grabbing your keys from off the floor, not even bothering with the cup, “are the fucking worst.”

“You’re the one that’s all jumpy.” He rolls his eyes, sitting back on the couch. “Who did you think it was?”

You scramble for another answer. “I don't know,” you snap. “If you didn’t know, I’d like to introduce you to the concept of texting someone before you sit ominously on their couch.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely!”

He sighs. “Sit. We have to talk.”

You toss your keys onto the counter, shakily hobbling over to the kitchen, hands clenched still. “You talk.” Your voice starts to stabilize. “I’m going to have a drink and wish it was alcohol.”

“Do you remember the first month you were here?” He crisscrosses his legs. “A week or so in?”

You lean down, grabbing a drink container. “When Mikey almost got kidnapped? Yeah.”

“Do you remember what you said?”

“Do I remember what I said over two months ago? No, I do not.” You set it on the counter, reaching into the cabinet and pulling a plastic cup down. You consider a glass one but did not want to clean glass shards off of your floor again.

“Then let me remind you.” He leans back into your couch. “You said, and I quote, that Shredder doesn’t get close to murdering Master Splinter until season two, whatever that means.”

You nod, setting your hands on the counter until they stop shaking. “What about it?”

“Shredder gets close to killing my father.”

You sigh, dreading the ensuing conversation. “Look,” you reason, “it probably won’t get to that if we’re smart.”

“The first word I think of when I think about our group is not smart.”

“It’s one guy.” You lean against your hand. “So long as he doesn’t pull a Leo and martyrs himself—“

He cuts you off. “What does martyr mean?”

“If he doesn’t throw himself in harm's way for the sake of the greater good—“

“So my Leo throws himself in harm’s way?”

“Have you met your brother?” You try and grab your cup. “Of course he does.”

His eyes widen. “So you’re telling me my brother dies too?”

“I did not say that.”

“But you—“

“The point,” you snap, “is that so long as your father values his own safety, he will be fine. There are preventative measures that we can take to make sure he doesn’t kick the bucket, so for now, worry about how you’re going to survive.”

He gets up. “How does he go the first time?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Why?” He stands in front of you, staring you down. “Why won’t you?”

“Because you’ll kill yourself over it.” You pick up your cup, taking a sip. “If I told you what happened in the future, you’d pull something to try and defy that, right? Then we wouldn’t even know what it was anymore, and our one tactical advantage would be shot."

“But—“

“I only tell you,” you cut him off, “about certain things so you can prepare to face them, not to try and avoid them. There are very few exceptions to that rule.” You set the cup back down, staring back. “There are things we can do to prevent things from happening, but not right now. Right now, our top priority is to make sure the Kraang don’t kill us all.”

“How come you get to know stuff we don’t?”

“Because.”

He throws his hands up. “Oh, well if that’s the reason—“

“Do you have anything else you wanna say or are you planning on just being up my ass?”

He closes his eyes, hands together as he takes a slow, deep breath. “Yes, actually.”

“What?”

“Karai approached us today when we went to check our Donnie’s stupid signal thing.” He opens them again. “She wants to team up.”

“Cool.” Your voice softens. “That’s good.”

He leans against the counter. “Can we trust her?”

You take another drink. “Trust is a strong word right now,” you sigh. “Aligning with her is a good idea, though. Just trust her as far as you can throw her.”

“What does that mean?”

“Well,” you shrug, “you can trust her to get you things and give you access to stuff. Just keep your guard up is all. Be diplomatic about it and you’ll be fine.”

He nods. “Cool.” He smiles. “Donnie’s been very anti-Karai so far.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “No idea why?”

You shake your head. “Thought he’d like having a kunoichi on his side.”

“You’d think.”

“Well, he’s gotta get over it some time.” You take another drink. “Preferably sooner than later, though. Fucking with Karai…” you shudder. “She’s incredibly powerful. If we can stay on her good side, it would make our lives easier.”

“Ours, you mean.”

“I have a stake in this too, you know.”

He scoffs. “How?”

“We’re on the same planet.” You reach down, fixing your pants over your cast. “Plus, I’m a target of the foot by association.”

“You aren’t fighting with us.”

“Would you rather I did?” You look back up at him. “Because when I do it seems it’s in the wrong way.”

“It would be helpful if you weren’t useless.”

“But I am, so it isn’t.”

“I guess.”

You stand back up straight. “Is that all?”

“Nope.” He walks back to the couch, sitting down. “I’m staying here a bit. Leo’s being an ass.”

“How so?”

“Same way as per usual.” He leans back into the couch. “Thinks he’s better than everyone.”

“And you don't have a better place to hang?”

He shrugs. “My brother likes you well enough. Besides, I want to know the person who’s making all of these big decisions in my life.”

“So it’s because you don’t like me?”

“Kinda, yeah.”

You take another sip from your drink. “That sounds paradoxical.”

“So?”

“So,” you lean your head against your hand, “why would you want to talk to me if you don’t like me?”

“Because your brother likes you,” he repeated. “If you’re going to be hanging around a ton I might as well try to like you.”

You smile. “That is incredibly mature of you, Hamato.”

A scoff. “You can’t call us all Hamato.”

“Watch me.” You hum, taking another sip from your drink. “Can I get you anything, by the way?”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself.” You reach into your bag— luckily, nothing has fallen out— and pull out your phone. “I just need you out by eleven-thirty. It’s a school night.”

“Even without being involved in our fights,” he shakes his head, “you are a total pussy.”

“Suck me.” You grab it off the counter, carefully carrying your cup to your bed. “And keep the noise down. “My neighbors have been pleasant and I want it to stay that way.”

“Buzzkill. You clearly don’t spend enough time with Mikey.”

“You know,” you grin, pulling out your notes as you sit down, “your brother says the opposite. Donnie, I mean.”

“I figured.”

You glance over at the window as he fiddles with the remote. “How did you get in?”

“The window.”

“No shit.” You look back over at him. “Red button, but I lock the window."

“No, you didn’t.” He clicks the button. “It was unlocked when I got here.”

“Huh.” Another stream of electricity flows through your veins. ‘They know where I live.’ You swallow.

“Must’ve forgotten.”

You did not. You would not forget. There was no way you could have, or would have, forgotten to do something like that.

“Must’ve.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 14

Chapter 16

[beetlegoose01]

Frostbite (Chapter 2- Suspire)

AN: Chapter 2 is here friends! I appreciate all the kind feedback I received last chapter! Without further ado...

Previous Chapter: https://pepperimps01.tumblr.com/post/644922844412854272/frostbite-casetello-an-do-these-two-have-a-ship

~~~~

"So, can I go now?" Casey asked impatiently, trying to flex his arm. "I've got places to be, slowpoke."

Donnie glared at him, irritated. He seemed even more frustrated that Casey had made that semi flirty jab at him.  "Like where?"

"You know...around." He gave a toothy grin.

"Very specific, Jones."

"I like to think I'm very pacific."

"That's-"

"Actually..." Casey wiggled his eyebrows. "Red wanted to talk to me about something. Maybe a bit more than talk if you know what I mean..." He shrugged. "Can't exactly blame her. I'm a catch."

'We aren't there yet, Jones.'

'Is it about April? Because it's not my fault, she ...y'know likes me more.'

Donnie's heart plummeted, dropping the scalpel he was holding. It crashed by his feet loudly, but he didn't bother picking it up.  "You better go then." He said coldly.

"Are you sure? Because I wanted to tell you some-"

"Just leave!" He snapped. "Can't you tell I'm busy? I've got retromutagen to work on."

"Jeez, okay. Don't get your tail in a knot." The teen raised his hands in surrender.

Casey stumbled out of the lab, dazed and confused. His arm thankfully didn't hurt anymore, but he still felt a bit uneasy and sick to his stomach. He really just wanted to take a nap, forget about everything that happened and maybe never work with Donatello again. Couldn't that turtle take a joke?

He needed a distraction...

"CJ!" Mikey exclaimed, leaping towards him with a stupid grin on his face. Casey yelped, taken aback by the orange turtle's enthusiasm. At least that was a distraction alright.  "You won't believe this, dude!"

Casey smirked. "You know, I'm starting to think everything is believable at this point. What's up? Did you discover a new pizza joint?"

The smallest turtle looked about ready to explode with excitement. "Nope! Can't tell you yet, bro.  Come on, Leo's explaining everything at the dojo! I'm just getting you and Donnie! I'm ...Mikey the messenger!" And then he was off again, no doubt badgering Donatello.

Casey shook his head, laughing. Though he was somewhat curious about whatever the leader in blue had to say.

He entered the dojo, checking if Master Splinter was behind him. He trusted the old ninja master, and couldn't deny he was a big help...but that didn't stop him from flinching every time they made eye contact. Rats still gave him the creeps.

Raph and April were already there, chatting amongst themselves. Raph was currently practicing opening and closing April's tessen.

"I dunno, it just seems a bit..." He trailed off.

"A bit what, Raph?" April's eyebrows furrowed. "Go on, finish that sentence."

"It's not very sharp, that's all." As he said this, the tip of the fan poked his finger and he let out a squawk of pain.

"Not very sharp, huh?" April swiped the fan back. "Remember this from me: don't judge everything by its outer appearance."

"Touché." Raph waved at Casey, and the pair did an elaborate secret hand shake.

"What's this about anyway?" He folded his arms.

"Beats us." Raph shrugged. "All Mikey said was-" He changed his voice to a high pitched, cruel but accurate impression of his youngest brother. "Dudes you've gotta hear this! I'm gonna cry on the floor if you don't come to the dojo right this second!"

"It must be big if Leo wants to tell us." April said. "I mean, all Raph and I dealt with was the Purple Dragons graffiting a stop sign."

"It was a slow night!" Raph protested.  

"Maybe they saw Karai?" Casey suggested. That was really the only thing he could think of.

Mikey bounded into the dojo, followed by an extremely disgruntled Donnie, who made a big show of standing as far away from Casey as possible.

"What's all this about?" Donnie asked.

The single light bulb above them started to burn out. The team heard shuffling from behind the large tree, and a shadowy figure approached them, stepping into the dimly lit middle area. He dramatically raised his head, looking grim.

"You're probably wondering why I called you here this evening." Leo said, glancing at Mikey, who of course already knew and was wiggling with excitement.

"Well, yeah. Spit it out, already." Raph said impatiently.

Leo ignored him. "Mikey and I encountered something tonight.  Another mutant. We thought we caught them all or made allies with them but..."

"What?" His emerald eyes widened.

"What is it?" Donnie pressed.

"A dragon!" Mikey interrupted. "A humongous dragon! He had razor sharp teeth and claws!" He paused. "Actually he kinda reminded me of Leatherhead but way less friendly."

"Dragons aren't real, meathead." Donnie grumbled. "They're completely made up fictional stories."

"Have you ever seen a dragon before? Huh? Have you Donnie?" Mikey retorted, cloudy blue eyes filled with a sense of innocence that truly believed dragons were real- but also with a stubborn pride to prove his genius brother wrong. A common occurrence between the two youngest brothers.

"No but-"

"See?" Mikey looked triumphedley at Donnie, then turned back to Leo. "Continue,"

"Like I...and I guess Mikey was saying, we know it's some type of reptile. Not a dragon for sure, but something."

"Any distinctive features?" Donnie asked, snark evident in his tone. "There are over 8000 living species of reptiles, so you might need to be more specific."

"Ah, shut up Brainiac." Raph groaned.

"He's got a point though." Casey pointed out. "Not that I'm agreeing with him- I mean...there are like, a lot of reptiles out there."

"We didn't get a close look at it, I'm afraid. We had to retreat. Whatever it was, it was tough."

"And...kinda scary." Mikey said, hiding behind his oldest brother wearily.

"Fear is the path to the dark side, Mikey." Leo said firmly, patting his head. "Don't let your fear cloud your judgment. We can take it on. Just like we always do."

The group stared at the leader blankly.

"Did you really just quote Yoda?"  April said, covering her mouth to stop her giggles.

"Wh- nooo..." Leo blushed, leaning against the tree in a failed attempt to seem casual. "Why would I do that? That's totally ...lame." Clearing his throat, he continued: "Tomorrow we'll hold a stake out to find this mutant. I'm thinking they may have a chance to be an ally. Any questions?"

Mikey raised his hand. "Are you sure we can't have a pizza out instead? I'm not really a fan of steak and-"

"Any relevant questions?"

"Has it done any actual damage?" April tilted her head.

"It looked more scared than anything, actually." said Leo. "That's why I think we can convince it to join our allegiance."

"And if it isn't willing? Suppose it isn't up for prancing through a meadow with us and decides to kill us all?" Raph said. "Because our track record with friendly mutants tends to be a mixed bag."

"You didn't answer my question, did it do any damage?"

Leo chewed on his lip. "So...don't freak out but, it- she- he? Er- they looked very hungry and did attempt to spit on us. With acid. Or venom or whatever." He pressed on, despite the horrified looks of his peers. "It'll be okay! I have full confidence we can handle this as a team."

"So let me get this straight, Leo." Raph said, moving forward to his brother. "You almost got killed by this monster and your next course of action is: let's be friends! Are you out of your shell? That plan works just as well as Casey and Donnie baking cookies together!"

"For once I agree with Raph." Donnie said, earning a very disgruntled look from his brother.

"I didn't say friends, just figure out their motives." Leo mumbled.

"Whatever you say, Fearless." Raph pushed his brother aside roughly. "Good luck with that. I'm gonna check out Bloody Deaths III, anyone wanna play with me? Casey?"

"Sure," Casey felt his phone buzz. An anxious text from his twelve year old sister Riley snapped him back to reality. "Ah...actually can't. My little sister is getting worried. See you guys tomorrow?"

"Yeah, whatever."

"No worries. Older brother duties call." Leo nodded.

"Don't worry Raph, I'll play with you!" Mikey

"So will I." Leo agreed, happy to relax for a little bit. "How about you guys?" He glanced at Donnie and April, the last remaining members still inside the dojo.

"Just a moment. I'll be right there." April confirmed.

"Don't keep us waiting," Raph cracked his knuckles.

As they were leaving the dojo, Donnie felt a tap on his shoulder. Spinning around, he faced the beaming freckled face of April O' Neil.

"Hey!" She said cheerfully, blue eyes bright and curious.

"Er, um, hey!" He echoed, voice raising several octaves as puberty decided to betray him. He was grateful his brothers were in the other room, babbling about the video game Raph found in the dumpster. No doubt they would be teasing him about his failed attempt at flirting.

"I wanted to talk to you." April said.

"About the new mutant? Because I didn't get a chance to see it-"

"No, no." She interrupted, nudging his shoulder playfully. He blushed at the contact. "I meant about you and Casey. Everything turned out okay?"

Donnie fought the urge to groan. Of course it was about Jones. Instead, he bit his tongue, smiled sweetly and said: "He was...okay." he waved his hand vaguely.

April grinned, relieved. "Wow, that's way better than I expected!"

Donnie narrowed his eyes.

"What I mean is, you two are my closest friends. Seeing you two butt heads, act like you hate each other-  it hurts." She explained. "So it's nice seeing my two best buds get along.

'Best ...buds.' Donnie thought to himself, analyzing each word carefully. 'So maybe she isn't interested in him. That boy with his cocky grin and his stupid egotistical-'

"Casey mentioned you fixed his arm up too!"

"Huh?"

"His arm...he sprained it and you patched it up."

He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "Oh, that." He chuckled. "Wait...he told you?"  

"Yeah, he seems grateful but obviously too 'macho' to admit that."

"It wasn't really anything special."

"But it was, Donnie." April's eyes twinkled. "It was a really nice thing to do. I'm just...so happy you two are finally getting along. Thank you. I knew you would eventually!"

"Heh, well you know."

April chuckled, taking his hand as they walked to the pit.

Mikey sprung up from his beanbag chair. "Yuck, did you two kiss?" He gagged.

April rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't you like to know."

Raph pretended to throw up into his bowl of popcorn while Leo just laughed fondly.

"Take a seat you guys." He said. "We're about to start the game!"

"Actually I think I might call in early tonight." Donnie faked a yawn. "I'm so ...tired."

"You? Sleep?" Raph snorted. "If you didn't want to hang out with us, you could just say that. I don't think I've seen you go in your room since you were thirteen, Don."

"That's not true..." Donnie's cheeks flushed.

"Aw, leave him be." April said, grabbing a handful of popcorn despite Raphael's protests. "He needs his rest."

"Yeah, you do look significantly greener than normal, dude." Mikey pointed out.  "So to speak."

"Go get some rest." Leo said, raising a comforting hand to Donatello's shoulder. "That's an order from your leader."

"Well...goodnight then. Have fun." Donnie added an extra fake yawn for added effect, then retreated to the lab when they looked the other way.

~•~

Donatello checked his very messy notes, examining each point with precision. If he wasn't exact, weeks, heck, months of research would be a waste. He wasn't going to let anyone, let alone Casey Jones ruin his process. The lack of sleep already made his work sloppy.

"Add the dose of norepinephrine, stir carefully with the calibrated mutagen..." He mumbled under his breath. "Then wait ten minutes before..."

But he couldn't get that terribly charismatic smirk out of his mind. That no nothing, cocky little son of a-

"Focus Donnie. Don't think about him."

"Talking to yourself again I see."

"Gah!" Donnie yelped, practically doing ballet leaps as he grabbed the nearly fallen canister. He turned around to face his older, but significantly shorter brother. "Hamato Raphael!" He squeaked shrilly.

"Ooh using the full name on me." Raph snickered. "What did I do to deserve that?"

"How long have you been here?"

Raph shrugged, poking the bunsen burner. "Eh, long enough."

"Weren't you suppose to be playing that dumb game with the others?"

"Yeah, and we beat it." He said, piercing green eyes staring him down with a sense of judgement. "And I thought you were supposed to be sleeping. Shoulda have known you'd be back in your Nerd Cave." He flicked Donnie's arm.

"Why are you here?"

"Okay, twenty questions, is it against the law to see my baby brother?"

Donnie folded his arms. "Since when do you ever visit me for no reason?"

"Because I'm such a kind, caring brother?" He looked away guiltily. "Who simply wanted to check on you? Is that such a terrible thing, Donatello?" He leaned forward, dropping the act to return to his usual deadpan tone. "Also my motorcycle needs fixing."

"Ah, there it is."

"Watch the snark, I need it fixed soon."

"Fine, fine." Donnie sighed. "I will."

"Good, 'cause Casey and I are gonna hit the streets with that baby." He said smugly.

Donnie wilted. "Jones?"

Raph raised his eyebrows. "Yeah, Casey Jones. Human, dark hair, lots of missing teeth...this tall? Ring any bells? Oh, right. Forgot you and him had this thing going on..."

"It isn't about that." Donnie said quickly. "We...him and I..."

"You know, seeing you two act like idiots around each other isn't gonna help the team out. Even Mikey thinks it's stupid."

First April, now Raph? And apparently Mikey too...

"I don't care about what you and Jones do, it isn't really my business." Donnie cooled down, trying to tame his temper. "And we're trying, truly trying, at least I am to be civil."

"Hmph, yeah right."

"And ...I don't care if you two spend time together. Why should I? We aren't even friends!"

"Okay, okay." Raph raised his hands in surrender. "I'm going to bed. You should too by the looks of it. After my bike is finished, of course."

Donnie grunted.

"And Donnie?"

"Hm?"

"Who exactly are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

Donatello didn't have an answer.

~•~

Everything hurt. From the depths of her scaly toes, to her ferocious gaping mouth.What was she? She didn't know anymore. A monster? A freak? Any humanity she had left, was a clouded memory and there was no turning back. She struggled to move, still becoming accustomed to her new features. Four legs were harder to maneuver than two, but she made do.

She slivered across the murky water, pains in her stomach growling from lack of proper food. She couldn't recall the last time she had a warm meal. She lifted her head, silver grey eye slits opening. . In what she lost, her human form, her hair, and sense of a normal life- she had gained quite a few things too. A keen sense of smell, for one. Her eyesight had improved too. She had also gained an olive green tail, which helped with her balance.

'As long as I don't need those pesky glasses anymore.' She thought to herself bitterly.  Those horrid things were the cause of her harassment when she was a human. Now she would have the last laugh. They would cower in fear if they saw what she looked like now.

Her stomach grumbled again.

But yet...those turtles she encountered. So tasty looking...so delectable. They would satisfy her pain.

She stared at the mutant's reflection. It blinked when she blinked. It moved its tail when she flicked it.

This was her life now. She might as well make the most of being a monster.

She had work to do.

[qoldenskies]

Golden... I just came back from doing multiple laps around my house, chanting oh my gods, choking back tears, and sooo many "I'm gonna kill myself /j's" than I've done probably in my whole life in the span of 2 hours because I just listened to Sleeping At Lasts album Atlas: Enneagram in full.

...I'm gonna kill myself.

Listen, I knew you got inspiration from him. You even recommended finding fic titles through his songs, but I never, EVER, expected that this ENTIRE album had such a big role in making Donnie's character. Or was such a big inspiration.

Like, I knew that Two was just perfect, considering the perspective of his family. And I saw that you saved a few of his other songs to your playlist. But I still hadn't found the right time to actually listen to them. But tonight, I got curious. So I listened to the album from the beginning. And BOY, did it take me by suprise.

This entire time, I've been struggling to find the motivation to write his character. I had found a few songs that fit the feel I was going for. I finally found a title and everything. And then low and behold, Sleeping At Last was my answer this whole time.

Literally, every.single.song. is EXACTLY what I was going for. EVERY SINGLD SONG IS HIM PRACTICALLY JUST SINGING ABOUT HIS PATH TO HEALING AND IT'S JUST SO IRJEIWJEHEWJJEEJEJEJEJJEJEJEWOOW9SZHBQ9Q9Q!!!(@*,

INSPIRATION JUST FLOODED MY BRAIN LIKE A DAM BROKE AND WAVE AFTER WAVE CAME CRASHING THROUGH!!!

THANK YOU, Sleeping At Last, for being such a SENTIMENTAL TRAGEDY. And THANK YOU, Golden, for having such wonderful taste!

I don't even know what my main focus point is anymore. But boy, don't I have a resource.

AHAHAHAAAAA I FUCKING GOT YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SLEEPING AT LAST BELOVED

[keysszz]

Part of the Family

I wrote this a while ago, when Reparin the Baron first aired, but I still wanted to post it cause I like the story.

A ROTTMNT Fanfic

Mikey jumped from rooftop to rooftop, happily gliding as he went. It was rare when he got to be alone on the building tops of New York, and he enjoyed being by himself and having some alone time outside of the lair. He stopped jumping and looked down onto the city of New York, smiling as he gazed. The humans had looked so peaceful; though he did want to talk to them, he knew he couldn't do so.

He had to stick to the shadows, and he didn't want to scare the humans off. So he sat on the rooftop with his legs dangling over the sides. Just then thunder was heard, and Mikey jumped a bit. He knew that there was rain in the forecast, so he brought his umbrella just in case. Though he did want to enjoy his time a little bit longer, he didn't want to be caught up in the rain. He didn't know why Leo liked the rain so much, but Mikey hated how the rain felt on his scales. It made him feel slimy, and he didn't exactly want to feel like that on the way home. The box turtle stood up and walked away from the edge, making sure to look down once more to see how happy everyone seemed to be. He began to jump from the rooftops again when he spotted someone that looked familiar. He stopped on one of the roofs and looked down.

"Is that..." Mikey stared at the figure below. He gasped once he realized who it was. "Draxum?!"

Draxum was wrapped up in a brown cloth with a cardboard sign beside him. He looked to be shivering, and he wasn't too happy. Mikey stared for a bit longer before deciding to hop down and walk toward him. He knew that Draxum was a threat to them, but something inside of the box turtle told him to walk towards the enemy. He didn't know why, but he just didn't like seeing Draxum suffer, especially not like this.

Once Mikey began to get closer, it had begun to rain. He pulled out his umbrella and walked towards Draxum. The sheep man looked up and recognized Mikey, turning his head in the opposite way in response.

"Hey," Mikey said with a smile. Draxum didn't look up at him, but Mikey sat down beside him and held the umbrella over both of their heads. Draxum looked at the umbrella and back down at the ground. Mikey looked around at the scene in front of him, and he saw that the people around them were walking quickly. They didn't really like the rain either, and they walked to try and get out of it as fast as they could. He looked at the sign beside the sheep man and read what it said: "Will Mutate for Food". Mikey frowned slightly; he didn't like seeing his enemy like this. A couple of days ago, he was as strong as ever in the dark armor. Now, he looked all shriveled up and miserable. He just wanted to help him, but he didn't know how.

"Why are you here?" Draxum asked suddenly. He didn't look at Mikey when he talked, but the box turtle still smiled when he was acknowledged.

"Just wanted to help you out," Mikey said with a grin. "You looked like you needed company."

Draxum looked out from under the umbrella and into the horizon. Mikey knew it would take a while for him to talk, but something inside of him was telling him to stay. Mikey just needed a way to get him to talk more, but he didn't know what would motivate him. He then got an idea in his head.

"So," Mikey started. He saw Draxum glance at him through the corner of his eye. "How did it feel to create us?"

Draxum looked at Mikey and sighed. Mikey beamed at him, realizing that he got him to at least do something other than look at him.

"It was..." Draxum began. "An experience. You turtles weren't the easiest to mutate, but once I had gotten Lou Jitsu's DNA, it had its perks."

"Did you mutate all the time?" Mikey pondered.

"Yes," Draxum answered. "I guess you could say it was a way to express myself."

"I know how that feels," Mikey said. "I express myself with art all the time."

"I never expected for you turtles to turn out the way you did," Draxum said. "Especially Donnie and his inventions... They can be so deadly."

"Wait, you know our names?" Mikey beamed.

"I do hear you guys say each other's names," Draxum said. "I just never said them out loud to you."

"Huh," Mikey thought. He then smiled again. "Yeah, Donnie can be deadly with his weapons."

The two sat in silence for a while, listening to the rain. Mikey had begun to get cold, but he wasn't gonna leave Draxum alone, not until he could help him out.

"Hey, I got an idea!" Mikey said. "What if I found you a place to stay? Then you wouldn't have to sit in this rain all night."

"And where would that be exactly?" Draxum asked.

"I know of a place ," Mikey smiled. "Trust Dr. Positive."

Though he didn't really show it, Draxum did smile a small bit. "Dr. Positive?" he asked.

"Yeah," Mikey said. "He'll set you up with a great place to live. Now come on, we better hurry before it gets taken, and between you and me, I'm not really liking the rain that much. It's getting kinda cold."

Mikey stood up as Draxum did the same. They walked down the alleyways of New York, chatting softly as they walked.

~~~~~

"See, Dr. Positive sets people up in style!" Mikey said as he walked around the room of the apartment. He learned that a couple of weeks ago that someone was moving out of April's apartment complex, and thought that Draxum would love it since he didn't have a place to live at the moment.

"It is... rather nice," Draxum said as he walked in shortly after. "But why do you refer to yourself as Dr. Positive? I thought your name was Mikey."

"Because it's my cover name," Mikey replied. "But that doesn't matter right now. What matters is that we have to decorate this place to your liking."

Mikey pointed to the box of stuff in the corner of the room. "I found this stuff while we walked here, and I think it would be perfect for you."

Draxum looked over to the box and back at Mikey confused.

"It's not everything you'll need," Mikey began. "But it will at least get you through this week. Hopefully, I can find you a bed so that you aren't sleeping on the floor every night."

"Why?" Draxum said.

"Huh?" Mikey asked. "Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?" he clarified. "We're enemies aren't we?"

"Because..." Mikey didn't exactly know how to answer that. "Because we're family. You created us, and without you, we wouldn't be here. So, I guess I'm doing you a favor, and I kinda like hanging out with you..."

They both stayed silent as the rain fell onto the window sill. Mikey eventually started to move the items out of the box, with a little help from Draxum in the process. Since he didn't know if the sheep man had eaten yet, he decided to get some ingredients from a local store to cook him something. He returned as quickly as he left, and started to prepare his dish.

"You can cook too?" Draxum asked. "I thought you were just into art."

"I like to think of cooking as another art form," Mikey said as he heated up the stove. "It helps me cope sometimes, and it is a great time killer."

Draxum looked at Mikey as he sat down on the stool in the kitchen.

"So," he said hesitantly. "Since I know two things about you, tell me about yourself."

Mikey stared at Draxum in shock, then he started to smile. He had gotten Draxum to talk to him, and he didn't even start the conversation.

"Well," Mikey started. "There's so much about me that I could tell you, but it might keep you up all night. So I'll just start with the basics. I guess you already know my age, so I'll talk about what I like to do first."

As Mikey talked, Draxum began to get more interested in what Mikey was saying. He listened quietly, making sure to hear every detail.

"And I like to go with Donnie when he looks for stuff at the junkyard. There's a lot of cool stuff out there, and if I'm lucky I can find some art stuff that hasn't been completely destroyed. But man, you should see what Donnie can create with that stuff. He can make some pretty cool things, but most of them tend to be things to shred stuff. Also, he once tried to make us all smarter, but it kinda backfired because we became smarter than him. I personally don't remember any of this, but from the number of times he told us, I guess he hated it."

"I thought he didn't show his emotions?" Draxum questioned.

"Normally he doesn't," Mikey responded as he turned off the stove. "But he does care about us. He shows his true feelings every once and a while, but it's mainly when he's near me. He talks to me more than my other brothers, so I usually know what he's thinking first. Plus he helps me out all the time when I don't feel like myself, like when I get nightmares and stuff."

"He is a softshell," Draxum said. "I just didn't think his appearance would go into his personality so literally."

"Yeah," Mikey said with a grin. "He is a softy. Anyway, I finished making some soup, you hungry?"

Mikey poured the soup into two bowls and put them on the table in front of them. They ate as they talked, and Draxum began to feel more relaxed with Mikey. He started to smile more as well, but he tried not to show it. He even laughed at Mikey's jokes, and that was a big improvement. Mikey smiled as Draxum finished his food. Yeah, it was gonna take a while for Mikey to even consider asking Draxum to forgive the humans, let alone invite his family over to talk to him. But, Mikey felt like he had done a good job at helping the sheep man adapt to his new home. He helped out the guy who was formerly known as his enemy, but after today, he could call him a friend. No wait, he was even better than a friend... he was family. He could call him a part of the family now, and Mikey loved that he could spend time with his second father, especially because he wouldn't be fighting him, but instead talking to him like he knew him for years.

[roseyturtles]

more mikey angst yeehaw

welcome back to “oh lawd Rose is on their bullshit again” and this time I have writing done at 3am

So this requires a little bit of explaining. First, I’m using “Artist” as a nickname for 2018 Michelangelo and “Freckles” for 2012. Second, this is fast-paced. Almost uncomfortably so. You’ll have to suspend your disbelief enough to believe that talking to another version of yourself is more vulnerable than anyone else, and that all Mikeys are just that empathetic. Third: I’m not making excuses for wrongs on the part of 2012′s writers or characters, and I’m not leaving room for anyone else to do so either.

Tagging @brightlotusmoon in this as per usual because she’s my ultimate motivator in Mikey writing.

That being said, enjoy.

"Wait wait wait wait," the freckled turtle started, waving his hands in front of his face. "So. Your brothers DON'T smack you around when you're being obnoxious?"

"Wh--no?? What kind of brothers hit each other?!"

When Michelangelo---or, well, "Artist Mikey," as they would later clarify to try and discern between the two versions---first had this other version of himself arrive at his doorstep, he wasn't expecting this to become of it. The "rounder" turtle, a few inches taller and formed from a different base species entirely, but still very much a clone, had started out with bright smiles and a skateboard under his arm, ready to grind the sewer walls with his counterpart. And grind they did, both using their skills to perform impressive tricks around every bend and railing available, until they chose to mount on a surface rooftop for a breather. That's when real conversation started up, mostly about their common and different hobbies and the state of their worlds.

It was only when freckled Mikey mentioned off-the-cuff that he'd be smacked by Raphael for too many bad jokes that the artist realized that maybe they weren't so similar after all, and neither was their family.

"...uh. The normal kind?? What, are you guys all hugs and kisses?" Freckles asked, making a smooching gesture with his hands in a lightly mocking manner.

"Well, I mean, no," Artist started, "but like. Even when we get super mad at each other none of us get hit! And what do you mean by "annoying" anyways?"

Freckles seemed a little bit at a loss, brow furrowed and blinking. Whether that was out the same verbal processing disorder that Artist had or out of disbelief he wasn't sure. Eventually Freckles couldn't make eye contact, or even so much as look at Artist anymore, instead choosing to look away and scratch the back of his head, voice quieter when he spoke.

"Y'know," he tried to reconcile. "Stuff like…being too loud, or moving around too much, or talking about a video game all day."

Again Artist was horrified. That…was all normal stuff for him and his brothers both to do. Yeah, it was more him than them, but none of it was ever considered "annoying." None of it warranted violence. 

"I mean, I remember one time Leo chased me and hit me with a mop after I used his favorite comic as toilet paper, heheh. I was, uh, I was trying to snap him out of a weird mutant wasp trance after he got stung. Nnever--" Freckles suddenly went silent, and for a moment there was tension as he slowly pulled his knees up to his chest.

Then Artist spoke with rare but completely characteristic softness.

"Never thanked you for saving him?"

More silent tension as Freckles remained looking to the noisy city, trying to drown the storm inside his chest with other stimuli. Eventually, though, he 

nodded. Artist took a minute to process everything this implied. The fact that the major good thing Freckles did was overshadowed by the minor bad. The fact that a simple "thank you" or even an "I love you" was too much for that Leo's pride. The fact that nobody stood up for Freckles in that violence, and no one was going to, not without some sort of intervention.

…

Artist scooted a little closer to his counterpart and hugged his nearest arm. Freckles seemed shocked by the contact, and almost a tad uncomfortable, which made Artist's heart hurt more. Was he also never comforted in times of distress?

"I'm gonna be real honest here, Mike," Artist started, opting to use one of their assigned nicknames until they later figured out universal ones. "I don't think any of that's…good. I mean, bouncin' around and talking about stuff for hours is either teen stuff, ADHD, or both. For you to get smacked for doing normal stuff?..." He couldn't collect enough thought matter to say exactly what was wrong with it, but the heavy silence afterwards spoke volumes.

Freckles, too, remained silent after the speech. He had read about ADHD in one of Donnie's countless textbooks and found himself identifying with the symptoms, but never told anyone about it. He was already different from his brothers enough, why give it name and form that could be used as a stamp over his mouth? But something about hearing it from someone else, someone that didn't just know him but was him, made the concept somehow more real, like adjusting pronouns. And yet all of that was overshadowed in a split second by what exactly Artist was getting across. This…how his brothers treated him…wasn't normal. Wasn't okay, even. Another version of him, a fundamentally happier version, wasn't being hit and wasn't being called annoying and was being thanked by his brothers and wasn't trying desperately to appease them and was pursuing his hobbies fearlessly and---

Freckles looked at Artist with just the barest bit of hope.

"What's your dad like?"

"...Imperfect. He's got a lot of bad stuff in his past. But he loves us a lot, and he wants us to be us before we're ninjas. …and yours?"

A moment more of silence. Then, Freckles returned the hug, burying his face in Artist's shoulder. Artist couldn't begin to imagine what kind of a Splinter---of a dad---could normalize domestic violence and emotional frigidity. The best he could imagine was that their Splinter just wasn't there for them. The worst? That he was an active participant in this. Either way, his slowly wettening shoulder told the story loud and clear, and Artist's heart was squeezed by grief for his other.

His whole world, everything he thought he knew, had been shattered in an instant, leaving nothing but shards of rose-tinted glasses and ruinous truth.

It both crushed him and burned him alive to see this happening, and when Artist raised his head, his eyes were determined to set it right, and set it right together.

[oskea93]

Think of You: Part Five

A/N: Sorry it took me so long to get this part out. I went through a bit of writer’s block and didn’t feel that motivated. I appreciate everyone that is reading this story, it really means a lot to me! I don’t particular care for this update since it’s kind of a filler. The ending is the main center of attraction and from this point on will the story will start to pick up and dash into a whirlwind. Let’s just say that the party is about to start :)

The days passed slowly since my “date” with Nikki.

As Friday got closer, my thoughts on going to the concert changed daily. Mac of course wanted me to go but I kept thinking of excuses as to why I couldn’t. I had too much laundry and Friday was designated laundry day. I had to plan my lessons for the next couple weeks, you know just in case I were to get sick or something. I would miss an episode of Little House on the Prairie or Laverne and Shirley. The excuses were endless. Mac had already purchased two tickets for the show and basically threatened me if I didn’t go with her. She and Tommy Lee, who I remembered was the band’s drummer, had been seeing each other since the night I was introduced to Nikki. I was happy for Mac but she was the type to fall fast and hard way too quickly. Apparently, her and this Tommy guy had been spending every waking moment together and she was in love. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard her say that she was in love with someone. I just hope it works out this time, but my gut was telling me it wouldn’t last.

FRIDAY.

“I’m not going.”

I threw myself onto my bed, letting out a loud groan into my pillow. For the past hour and a half, I’ve tried my hardest to find something to wear but that was proving to be difficult. First of all, I didn’t know what would be appropriate attire for a rock concert. I had plenty of dresses but they were second grade friendly, not Motley Crue friendly. Secondly, it was close to 100 degrees and from what Mac has told me, the show was going to be outside. Don’t get me wrong, I love going outside but I hate to sweat. I don’t know if this guy is worth sweating to death over! Plus, how would even know if I showed up or not. I’m sure there were gonna be tons of people there and he would never know if I was out among the masses. The only thing was that I would feel guilty for not going. Part of me wanted to go and support Nikki and the other guys, but there’s that part of me who wants to stay far away from his kind. If I didn’t go, our dinner meeting the other night would probably be the last time I would ever see him. He would ultimately move on and chase after someone else. The question was, did I want that to happen?

“You look hot!”  

I looked at myself in the mirror. After much deliberation and some strong words from Mac, I decided to go to the concert. “You think it’s appropriate for a rock concert? I wore this to a church picnic last year.” I smoothed down the romper, giving myself a once over. I kept my red hair down in loose waves and my makeup light once again. I made sure to match my sandals with the romper. I also managed to paint my toes last minute, and I had to say they looked pretty good for once.

“You look amazing!” Mac exclaimed. “Nikki’s gonna flip when he sees you.” I looked at her through the mirror and then back to my own reflection. I couldn’t help but smile as I started thinking about how Nikki was going to respond to seeing me. 

“What about me; How do I look?” Mac asked, holding her arms out and twirling around. The yellow romper was defiantly a sight to see. It also left little to the imagination. “You look great, Mac.” I smiled. She really did look stunning. Everything that girl put on made her look like she was on the cover of Vogue, even on the days she looked like a slouch. Mac and I’s body’s were completely different when it came to what we could and couldn’t wear (in my case). Mac’s body was lean and athletic. She had a natural tan, while I had the coloring of Casper the Ghost. Everything that girl put on looked fabulous. Hell, she could put on a potato sack and rock it! However, I didn’t have that type of luck with clothing. Seeing as I wasn’t exactly a size 2 or have the skin tone of a roman goddess, I could only wear certain shades and clothing patterns. I guess that’s why I had the wardrobe of a boring librarian.

“SO-“ Mac began. “I spoke with Tommy this morning and he said to go around back and the security guy would let us through.”

I looked at her confused, “Don’t we need a special pass for that?” I’ve only been to a handful of concerts but I knew that you needed a pass of sorts to get backstage. I went to the Donny and Marie show when I was in the 7th grade and begged my dad to get me a backstage pass. However, they were too much money and it was a miracle in itself that I even got to see the show. I wonder how he would feel knowing that I was about to go to a rock show? It was a fight just to get him to let me see Donny and Marie!

“Tommy already talked to the head guy and said it would be okay.” She reassured.

I just nodded my head as gathered my bag and sunglasses. I made sure to later myself in sunscreen, making sure to put the bottle in my purse just in case I needed a touch up later.

“You’re such a square.” Mac began to laugh.

“I don’t want to burn, thank you very much.” I snapped back. She rolled her eyes as she exited my apartment. I quickly checked to make sure I had everything and that everything was shut off or unplugged. I was a bit hysterical when it came to double checking things. I glanced at myself once more in the mirror before leaving. My jumper was pressed and neat. My hair was perfect and what makeup I had on looked flawless. I let out a shaky sigh, “Here goes nothing, Caroline.”

“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”

I followed closely behind Mac as she pushed her way through the mass of people. I had to grab her hand at one point so we wouldn’t get separated. There were thousands of people here and they were all packed in like Sardines in a can. “We’re almost there.” I heard her yell. I could see the stage was getting closer but it seemed like more people appeared the closer we got. I could hear people muttering curse words at us as we pushed our way through. I couldn’t help but say sorry a few times as I bumped into random people. “There it is!” Mac exclaimed.

I almost fell as her grip on my hand tightened as booked it to the side of the stage. Within seconds, we were on the side of the stage. She quickly climbed the steps and disappeared behind the curtain, leaving me behind to find my way. “Mackenzie!” I yelled after her. I pulled back to curtain, finding her speaking with the security guy.

“Show me and I’ll let you back there.” The pudgy guy smirked as he looked Mac over. I could tell Mac was getting flustered. Her face turns a deep shade of red when she gets angry.

“What’s going on?” I asked. I looked between Mac and the security guy. He turned his attention away from Mac and looked at me. I couldn’t help but grow uncomfortable as his eyes trailed down my body.

Mac let out an aggravated sigh, “This asshole won’t let us in unless I show him my tits.”

My jaw dropped to the floor. I looked over at the sleazy security guard as he smiled at me. His teeth looked as if they hadn’t been brushed in ages and had pieces of his lunch stuck between the gaps. “I thought you said that Tommy guy talked with security?” I started to panic. “You said he had everything covered.”

Mac rolled her eyes at me. I could see she was trying to think of something but there was no way I was showing this guy or any guy for that matter my breast. “Okay-“ She turned toward the guy. “I’ll show you my tits if you agree to let us both in.” My eyes went wide at her proposition.

“Mackenzie!” I exclaimed. “Are you out of your mind?” I could not believe she would do that just to get backstage. I knew she was crazy but this was beyond

Mac ignored my question, continuing to stand her ground with the security guy. “What do you say, pal?” She asked. “My tits grant us access backstage?” The guy gave her a once over again, a smile still plastered on his greasy face. “Your tits grant you access and her tits grants her access.” He smirked.

Before I could flip out even more, a heavy-set man came walking towards us. “Mac and Caroline?” He questioned. The guy was dressed in khaki pants, a red shirt, and a blazer. His hair was slicked back, making him look professional. I looked over at Mac to see if she knew who he was but she had no clue.

“I’m Mac, this is Caroline.” She pointed to me. “Who are you?” The man let out a laugh excusing the security guard. He looked to be in his early 40s, maybe mid to be exact. He didn’t look like he belonged her at all but neither did Mac and I.

He stuck out his hand, “I’m Doc McGhee.” I watched as Mac shook his hand. “I’m Motley’s manager.” He turned toward me, extending his hand. I looked down at the hand and then back to his face. I hesitantly shook his hand, earning a smile from him. “You guys ready to see the show?”

“Boys!”

Doc’s voice boomed through the room, causing everyone in there to stop talking and turn to look at him. I looked around at the people in the room. Two of the guys were dressed in leather outfits and face makeup, while the other two had normal street clothes on. The one person I came to see was nowhere in sight.

“I’m so glad you made it.” I turned to see Mac hugging the source of the voice. He was very tall and scrawny looking. I assumed he was that Tommy guy from the restaurant. I couldn’t help but feel left out. I mean I was just standing there while everyone was interacting with one another. I didn’t know anyone in the room besides Mac and she was busy with Mr. Bones. I decided to take a seat on one of the many equipment cases. People were running around everywhere, dressed in stage clothes or normal attire. “Hey!”

I looked up at the sound of the voice to find the guy that I helped get into the club the night that I had met Nikki. He was dressed in jeans and a track jacket, sticking out like a sore thumb. “Hello.” I smiled as he made his way over to me. I couldn’t remember what his name was but I knew he worked for some record label.

“What are you doing here?” He asked. “You look almost as lost as you did the first night we met.” I couldn’t help but laugh seeing as he was dead on the money.

“I uh-“ I stuttered. “I’m here to see Nikki.” His eyes widened. I guess you could say he was surprised by my answer.

“Wow.” He stated. “So you’re the girl he’s been talking about nonstop.” My cheeks began to heat up at the mention that Nikki’s been talking about. “He’s crazy about you.”

Before I could reply, Nikki rounded the corner in his stage clothes. He didn’t see me at first but once our eyes connected, my heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest.

I slowly stood from my seat, “Hi.” I awkwardly waved.

A huge smile fell across his painted face as he stepped toward me. Before I knew what was happening, he engulfed me in his arms and lifted me off the ground in a bone crushing hug. I was stunned at first but my arms instantly wrapped around his frame. He smelt like alcohol and a cologne. “I can’t believe you came.” I felt his hot breath on my neck, causing goosebumps to erupt all over my body.

He placed me back on the ground but our bodies stayed connected. We stayed that way for a couple seconds before I slowly pulled away. “You look very rock-starish.” Really, Caroline! You could have said anything in the world and that’s what comes out of your mouth? I mentally kicked myself as Nikki let out a laugh, looking down at his outfit.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He whispered looking into my eyes. I stared back, not being able to contain the smile that was plastered on my face. “Me too.”

I didn’t know how much longer it would be before he had to be on stage, and I wanted to just sit and talk with him since a few days had passed between us. I was about to recommended we take a seat on the equipment boxes when the older man that let Mac and I through security gathered the guys up. The guy that I had spoken with before, the record exec, spoke with the guys first. Apparently one of the band members was missing, along with the record exec’s girlfriend. I found that to be a bit odd but thought nothing of it.

“So-” Mac trotted over. “I saw your and Nikki’s little welcome party.” A giant smile was spread across her face. “You like him and I know it.” I couldn’t help but shake my head, a smile forming across my lips once again. “You can’t deny it, Caroline.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I tried to reply with a straight face. Mac just looked at me, rolling her eyes because she knew I was lying. Was it that obvious that I was starting to feel something for him? If it was, then I was going to be in big trouble…

“Girls?”  

Mac and I both turned at the sound of a man’s voice. Doc McGhee was standing in front of us, holding two laminated passes. “These are for you.” He handed them out. “Wouldn’t want you all to have to go through that mess again.” His smile was genuine. We both thanked him, slipping the lanyards around our necks. “You girls can watch with Tom and I if you want, probably the best seat in the house.”

Mac and I agreed to follow him, leaving the band as they huddled together. I was so excited to watch Nikki play but nervous at the same time. I remembered Nikki telling me this was the band’s first big show out of the clubs. This was their moment to shine and show themselves to the world. I had faith in him, in his band.

Mac, myself, Tom, Tom’s girlfriend, and Doc took our places on the side of the stage. The announcer spoke to the crowd before introducing the next act.

“PLEASE GIVE IT UP FOR LA’S OWN, MOTLEY CRUE!”

The crowd began to roar as the guys filed by us. Nikki was last out. I had no idea what was happening until it was over. It was as if my brain shut down and my body went limp. Nikki had grabbed a hold of my waist from behind, turning my body towards his, and connected his lips to mine. The kiss was brief but it took my breath away. I couldn’t help but stand there stunned as Nikki ran out on stage. He kissed me. 

He kissed me and now I wanted him even more.

@triplehaitches @lauravic @sighsophiia @divaanya @fandomshit6000 @primal-screamer

If you would like to be tagged in future updates, please let me know :)

(Gif found on Tumblr)

[eye-raq]

Let’s Unwind

Adonis x Bianca 

Summary: Adonis and Bianca haven’t experienced any time to themselves lately because of their busy schedules. But tonight is the night for them to unwind with drinks, food, and good sex.

This was a fic request! I hope it’s just as fluffy as the person wanted it to be.

“Hey, Adonis?”

Bianca walked into their wide open living room, Adonis seated on the couch in front of their 86” LED Smart TV, watching Sports Illustrated. They were discussing the big fight he had just two days ago, the one where he came out on top, yet again. They all celebrated as a group with his team and his family. Rocky couldn’t make it, but he gave his congratulations and promised to visit soon.

Bianca held a sleeping Amara as she tucked herself in a comfortable spot on the couch. Amara cooed, stirring in her sleep before gripping one of Bianca’s fingers tightly, causing Bianca to smile before looking up at her husband.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah.” He turns down the TV, giving B his undivided attention now.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Adonis blinked twice before raising his brows in question.

“Thinking what B?”

“Well, we’ve both been pretty tied up with work and I’ve been thinking that we should make it a priority to do husband and wife things.”

Adonis chuckles.

“We don’t do that shit now?” He had a confused expression that made B want to mush his face.

“Married couples don’t just come home late at night from studio sessions or work out sessions to take separate showers and get in a quickie.” She says with sarcasm.

“So what you saying, that’s all we are?” He points an accusatory finger between them both.

“Stop it, D. What I’m saying is I want us to be more romantic. Let’s go on Friday night dinner dates, have picnics on the hood of your car, pop up at each other's work places with gifts or small talk, have risky sex, have family dinner, TRAVEL THE WORLD. Anything…”

Bianca has Adonis’s attention now, causing him to flick the TV off on a scene of him K.O.’ing a famous Mexican boxer.

“I’m listening B. I want all those things too, I want to keep our relationship romantic, fun, passionate, all that.” He was having trouble expressing himself. Bianca grips his hand, running a thumb over the scarring on his knuckles.

“Since we are both on the same page, why don’t you get dressed in something nice and make us a dinner reservation.” Adonis gives her a half smirk, before gripping her chin to kiss her soft lips. He loved the little humming sounds that escaped her mouth each time he would kiss her, her soft delicate hands running over his face, the rings on her fingers adding temperature to his skin that caused him to shiver pleasantly.

“I called your mom, and she said she would be more than happy to take Amara for the night while we enjoy ourselves. She said she’s a phone call away when we need time alone.”

Both Adonis and Bianca stared down at their sleeping beauty, Adonis leaning in to kiss her tiny feet causing Bianca to smile. Finally lifted from the couch, Bianca places Amara in her crib to get ready, while Adonis went to take a quick shower. He figured B would want to do a fancy steak house dinner, so he booked a reservation at The Capital Grille. Bianca wanted them both to dress nice for the occasion, so Adonis put on a tailored suit of his in a navy blue color with gold cufflinks and a white dress shirt underneath, not completely buttoned. He sat on his bed to tie up the laces on his dress shoes, watching his woman at her vanity applying some makeup. She went for a red lip, using the Fenty Beauty Stunna Lip Paint, her eyes smokey to bring out the big brown irises she had, her hair pressed straight, the strands clinging to the beautiful creamy skin of her back. She had on a backless black cocktail dress with a slit on the side to give a teasing view of her killer legs. Her feet were covered in Saint Laurent heels.

Adonis couldn’t wait to get back to their place so he could properly dissect his women with his tongue, and stroke her surface with his fingers. Bianca caught him staring, a goofy grin on her face.

“You like what you see?”

“Hell yeah, you lucky we have dinner first because I’d rather skip that and eat you.”

“So you’re a cannibal now?”

They both shared a laugh.

“Hurry up beautiful so we can drop Amara off.”

Bianca put on her last Tiffany diamond earring before grabbing her black clutch, smoothing her dress over her hips.

“Okay, so I think I have everything Amara needs. Her bottle cleaner, I packed extra breast milk just in case, her favorite pacifier, those new booties that keeps her feet warm, extra pampers…”

“Babe. It’s cool, aight?  My mom will be fine she can handle it B.” Bianca squeezes her eyes shut, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Okay...I’m overreacting. You ready?”

“You look so damn sexy tonight.”

Adonis drinks from the bottle of Champagne sitting on ice, watching Bianca sip her wine in a sexy manner, her eyes low and fluttery.

“You look just as good yourself Mr. Creed.” She pulls out a tiny mirror to check her lips, smacking them together.

“Keep doing that to your lips they’ll be staining this dick in a minute.”

Bianca couldn’t lie, she wanted Adonis to do the things he talked big about, but her stomach rumbled and she needed some food.

“Let me eat first I’m STARVING.”

Right on cue, the waiter comes over with their tray of food. Bianca ordered a prime rib with Parmesan cheese crust, creamed spinach, and a baked sweet potato with brown sugar maple glaze and butter. Adonis had a ribeye with caramelized mushrooms and onions, garlic butter mashed potatoes, and roasted broccoli with green peppers and onions. It was tender, savory, and juicy, each bite getting better than the last. Both of them could eat, and that’s all they did too, Bianca getting thicker all over. Donnie definitely took notice when she would walk out of the bathroom in her naked glory, rubbing herself down with her homemade whipped body butter. The voice inside his head begged him to calm the heat that began to brew deep within his skin, deciding on ignoring the erection that attempted to grow and ask his women about her music.

“Tell me about the studio sessions lately, how have they been going for you?” Bianca removed her napkin from her lap, dabbing her mouth delicately, before clearing her throat to speak.

“I’m not gonna lie, I may have hit a snag.” Bianca finally spoke with a sound of defeat in her tone.

“A snag? Where exactly?” Adonis ran his tongue over his teeth, his eyes focused on his women as her shoulders slouched, reaching to pour a generous amount of champagne into her glass.

“Well...for one I haven’t had the motivation. Every time I feel like I have a lyric, just a SPARK, something, it just falls flat.” Her silky tresses from the right side of her face slipped over her shoulder, causing her to stroke it back, exposing her creamy skin over her protruding clavicles.

“I’ve been thinking about Amara a lot lately, and the hearing tests, the pressure from everyone expecting more from me now that I’ve given them this gift, my music.” She lets out a breath that sounded strained.

“B. This is what I want you to do.”

Adonis took her hand in his, rubbing the surface with his thumb.

“When you walk in that studio, I want you to close those beautiful eyes of yours. Then, I want you to do what I see you do at home, just hum to yourself. Let that pretty little hum coarse through you like it’s awakening you. Stay still, and let the melody, whichever melody you decide to create, let it cloud your brain and let it get you into the zone.”

Adonis watched the downcast of her eyes, reaching across the table with his other hand to grip her chin softly, lifting her head, and making her look him in the eyes.

“Hey, like you always tell me before a fight, YOU GOT THIS. My girl did not get a record deal and become internet famous in less than a year for nothing.” Adonis playfully jabbed her chin, causing her to perk up more, taking that same hand to kiss it, leaving a matte red lip stain along his almond skin.

“You are the epitome of a man. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have you.” Adonis gives her a soft smile, a light chuckle escaping his throat.

“I should say that about you, girl. You and Mara, and my mom are the light in my life. After the entire Drago thing, I’ve grown and… I needed that.”

Bianca’s bright smile could have swoon the entire restaurant, her hand bashfully coming up to cover her face, her eyes on Adonis unwavering.

“You are something, you beautiful human.” She loved the allure in his eyes, she loved the way he softly smiled at her like she was the only one in that room. She loved how his fingers would caress her hand gently and without pause, making her woozy.

“Adonis Creed?”

Adonis’ eyes looked up and over at a young man who looked to be about 18 years of age, an excited gleam in his eyes and a broad smile.

“Yeah, how you doing man.” Adonis put his hand out to shake the teenage boys, watching as he reluctantly shook his hand with a nervous gleam in his eyes.

“I recognized you from my graduation dinner party and I figured why not take a chance and say hi.” The young boy reminded Adonis of himself when he was 18.

“Not a problem bro, you box?”

“Yeah! I’ve been doing it since I was 7.”

“You love it? Like enough to want to pursue it?”

The boy nodded his head rapidly, causing Bianca to laugh lightly.

“That’s wassup, what’s your name?”

“Calvin.” He stuttered.

“Listen, Calvin.” Adonis pulled out his phone, handing it over to the boy.

“Why don’t you put your cell number in there, and I’ll contact you about private boxing sessions with me, hows that sound to you?” Bianca looked at Adonis as if he were something to cherish as if he were a piece of heaven.

“For real?! MAN of course definitely. I would really appreciate that.” Calvin couldn’t stop giving his thanks, his smile still plastered and his head shaking back and forth in astonishment.

After he entered his number, Calvin said his final goodbyes to Bianca and Adonis, retiring to his family with more pep in his step.

Adonis took a sip from his glass, eyes gazing out into the street of LA, watching people cruise by and the palm trees sway. He could feel the eyes of his wife on him then, so he looked up to find Bianca with glossy eyes and a genuine smile on her lips.

“That was really fucking nice of you D.” She wiped at her eye quick, grabbing both of his hands.

“Thanks, baby, I saw something in him that reminded me of how I was. And plus, I love seeing young black boys involved in other things besides what’s happening on the block.”

Not wanting to let their food go to waste, the both of them continued to eat, silence hanging between them as the silverware clashed with the plates of food. Nothing needed to be said, just his presence was enough for Bianca and the same for Adonis. Peeking at each other, and the bare skin of Bianca’s leg rubbing against Adonis was just enough to spark heat.

—-

Her body stood in front of the ceiling to floor mirrors of their luxury loft, her hand pressed to the glass as one of her new singles, Midnight,  played softly in the background. The song drummed through her, causing Bianca to sway her hips, eyes closed as she took in the lull of the sensual instrumental and her soft voice singing about losing control to a man.

Creeping up behind her with unheard footsteps was her husband, both of his hands running up the length of her arms, up and over her shoulders, and then down her exposed back before resting at her hips. Bianca lets out a soft chuckle, her breath hitching softly as Adonis’ body pressed firmly against hers.

“What was going through your mind when you wrote this?” The drag of his voice when he asked her that had her body pressing further against him, her eyes closing against the cityscape of LA.

“I was thinking...of how close I wish you were with me. How being away from you, even for a second, has me itching for your hands.”

Adonis strokes his lips over her ear.

“Just my hands?”

Bianca quirks a brow, leaning her head back to look him in his eyes.

“And your mouth.” Adonis took no time to press his lips to her divine lips. Bianca melted against the moist cushion of his lips, her body automatically turning to face him as their tongues crashed like dangerous waves.

“Keep kissing me like that and watch what happens.” Adonis teases.

“You started it D. Now you gotta finish it. I’m horny husband. I want you to fuck me.”

Adonis’ lips paused over Bianca’s his eyes searching hers, taking in the heat that began to flare behind her pretty brown irises. He was certain that the heat looked just the same within his.

Adonis and Bianca kissed further, practically sucking each other's faces, the back of Bianca’s legs crashing with the arm of their black leather couch, falling crimson her back causing her dress to hike up. She giggles from the surprise change in position, causing Adonis to clamp a fist to his mouth, snorting laughter.

“Oh god, we couldn’t even make it to the bed.” She shakes her head, watching Adonis remove his jacket and shirt.

“Doesn’t matter what surface I fuck you on, just as long as I feel that good pussy I’m straight.”

Adonis took no time to rest his body over hers, kissing her further while his hands roamed. She moaned sweetly into his mouth, her heart drumming against his solid chest frantically, and her hands rubbing over the waves on his head.

The intense passion that they both still felt for each other was mind blowing and gratifying. This is what they both wanted, a marriage where even the slightest gesture makes them erupt in pleasure.

Adonis began kissing from Bianca’s temple, down her face, and to her neck, taking his tongue to trail spit after every kiss. She whispered a repeated yes into his ear like a soft echo, her back arching into his solid frame, causing him to take his hands, removing the fabric of her dress inch by inch until it pooled around her waist.

“I can’t get enough of you ma, I need you ma.” Adonis nibbles on her clavicles, his eyes staring up at her extended head, her eyes low and lustful up at the ceiling.

“Keep going, don't stop.” His mouth finally found one of her caramel nipples, taking his lips to latch around one, savoring the sweet skin. He noticed how her skin shimmers with glitter, his other hand coming up to cup her breast. She chokes on that home groan, her fingers itching to grip the leather of the couch.

One of her smooth legs runs up Adonis’ side, her toes trying to push his black slacks down his hips.

“Skin Adonis, I wanna feel more skin.” Donnie kisses in between her breasts, giving her a lazy lopsided grin.

“Okay, wifey.” Adonis lifts up, approach Bianca at the head of the couch, watching as she takes her dainty fingers, undoing his pants, allowing them to fall loosely, her fingertips taking no time to pull his Calvin Klein briefs down, revealing a smooth veiny shaft, that hung with a throbbing erection. Bianca lifts her head to kiss him on the tip, before licking him there slow, her eyes watching every move. Adonis brings a hand to her head, running his fingers through her pressed hair, gripping the silky strands as he rubbed them between his fingertips.

Head from Bianca was something Adonis could never get over. It always brought him back to the first time he experienced it, that look in her eyes and the way her mouth did tantalizing things had him hooked, even before he had sex with her. She gripped him tightly, wetting him up with her spit and squeezing him good with her lips. Adonis hisses, his eyebrows worrying and his lips attacked by his teeth. Bianca could stare at that list filled face for hours, causing her to bob her head quicker over his length, earning a low but slow fuckkkkk to escape him. She was addicted to her husband's dick, and with every suck, she felt him quiver or twitch.

“Shit B, damn B….fuckkk baby.” His head falls back, hand coming down hard to the back of her head as he came, a low cry escaping his mouth.

Adonis was on his knees now, gazing into the pretty peach that Bianca had nestled between her legs, the wet fruit begging to be licked and many other things. Adonis could never forget the way she tasted; like a sweet piece of fruit dipped in fresh honey from a honeycomb. Bianca had an obsession with eating honeycombs too, the taste was overly sweet and the texture sticky, like how her pussy was now. Adonis trailed his tongue flat against her, liking from her hole all the way to her clit. No more quiet moans escaped her mouth, her heeled feet pointed to the sky and her ring-covered fingers rubbing over his head. Bianca tilts her head, watching the light from the city and the moon reflect off of his face and that shiny tongue that battled to get a taste.

Her legs drew back further, and her face contorted in bewilderment, her man's eyes never leaving hers, the undeniable attraction so clear and so pure. He took those lips and latched onto her clit, sucking deep without retracting, obscene noises loud between them and her creamy thighs shaking.

“Ah, take it.” She moans. Adonis was proud that he still made her feel this way. He opened up wide, attempting to kiss her inner folds, his lips brushing over every surface with persistent need, her legs never clamping around his head. She wanted, needed, craved him.

“Keep that up and watch I cum.” The innocent way she spoke that had the primal nature within him growl.

“I guess I gotta keep going right?” He spoke into her pussy with a low voice.

He kept going and going with the same motions, now adding two fingers, curling them over her g spot. The leather grew sweaty from her perspiration, a repeated gasp escaping her mouth like a melody, causing her belly to tremble, and her legs to shake as she orgasmed without warning. Adonis chased her cum, still sucking her through it until he felt she had enough.

——-

“I love you.” She whispered into his ear before sucking on his earlobe. They were on their second position that night, Adonis sinking back into her tight pussy, Bianca’s hips bringing him closer, her face was buried into the carpet, and her body was arched off of the ground, her pussy quivering around him with each deep pound. His strokes weren’t rushed, it felt like he was trying to remember her this way like he wanted to map out how her pussy felt around him.

“I love you, I love this pussy.” Adonis ran his fingers through her head before gripping tight, his eyes enjoying the way her back looked. Her arch was deep, and her spin dipped in the middle, making him trail his thumb there, catching up the sweat.

“Fuck me, harder.” Whatever she wanted, Adonis would give her, his hips slapped into her ass swiftly, her fingers rubbing into the carpet with a tremble.

“Touch me more.” She could feel the palms of his hand's jiggle and pinch her ass, before trailing both hands up her slim waist, digging his fingers into her flesh. Adonis buries himself deeper, bending over to kiss her spine.

“Throw that ass back,” Adonis slapped her ass, watching as B, began grinding her hips back over him slowly, a moan leaving her mouth after every stroke.

“Look at you. So damn beautiful with this dick in you. Such a beautiful sight baby.” His eyes couldn’t leave the nasty way her pussy swallowed him repeatedly. He felt her clench him, a hiss escaping his mouth.

“I felt that too, cum on this dick B.” Adonis began thrusting to meet her strokes, her ass bouncing and her cries muffled by the carpet.

“AHHHHH.” Adonis lets out a growl so deep Bianca could feel it vibrating through her flesh. She couldn’t even warn him, her words jumbled as she came on him for the third time that night.

LA received a beautiful view that evening, Adonis pressing Bianca’s body into the glass window, her legs around his waist as she bounced over him with a slow, forceful jerk of her body. She had her arms hanging loosely around his neck, and her eyes closed in bliss, head smashed against the thick glass. Adonis loves the image of his wife on him, her skin flushed, lipstick smeared, hair curling in the roots, her eyes wet in the corners. She was so precious, the vision of her made him want to fuck her harder.

“Yes, Donnie, yes give it to me, fuck me, I miss this!” She brought a hand to the back of his head, her nails grazing his head.

“You feel so good, you always feel so good.” He whispers, bringing both of his hands around her to hold her up, bouncing her rough over him. His wife, his beloved, his beautiful black women, she was a sight to see.

“B, fuck…”

“Cum in me, give it to me.”

“Imma give it to you baby, I promise.”

“Yeah, ohmygod ohmygod.”

“Take it, girl, take this dick…”

“FUCK D!” She clenched around him, her head falling back.

“Damn girl.” Adonis smacked her ass, his body shivering from how sensitive he was. He walked back to the couch with her still around him, falling back against it while his women bounced on him, leaning forward to kiss and nibble on his lips with her his grinding deep and his hands buried into the flesh of her ass. Her hands crashed with the couch on either side of his head, her back arching and rolling. Adonis lay there stunned, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open. Bianca arched deeper before lifting from him with a swing of her head, her hair crashing with her face, bringing Adonis hands to grip her breasts.

“I’m fucking this dick D, this is my dick.”

She began bouncing, earning a slap to her ass, and a string of moans from him.

“This fucking pussy, GOT DAMN.” His head extended, eyes squeezed shut.

“This pussy is straight fire.” He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hips meeting hers, slapping skin loud. Bianca practically clawed his chest, her body shaking over him in another orgasm, drawing him on further.

“SHITTTTT!!” Adonis lifts from the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hips snapping up into her rough before finally, with a shake, cumming within her deep, shooting his cum against her cervix spurt after spurt. His lips latched to her neck, soft mumbling vibrating against her flesh. The hold he had on her was tight, and the loud thumping of his heart against her chest made her squeeze him tighter.

“If I told you, that this felt like the first time we had sex, would you believe me?” Bianca rubbed her nose into Adonis’s sweaty shoulder. 

“I would, but what if I told you that it was EVEN BETTER than the first time we had sex?” Adonis kisses her hairline, enjoying the way her body bounced in his lap from laughter.

“It’s probably because of how freaky I’ve grown to be with you.” Adonis hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad we did this B, it just goes to show how much we still care for each other.” His fingertips rubbed at her back, making her eyes close.

“Just keep loving me like you do, it’s the best feeling in the world.” 

@panthergoddessbast @whoramilaje @allhailnjadaka @vikkidc @erikismybitch @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @blackpantherismyish @trevantesbrat @bakaris-shorty @wifin-niggaz @killmonger-dolan @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongersgurl @killmongerdispussy @killmongerthirst @killmongersmistress @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @bartierbakarimobisson @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @vibranium-chakra @muse-of-mbaku @thiccdaddy-mbaku @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @laketaj24 @supersizemeplz @abeautifulmindexposed @blxckquiescent @thehomierobbstark @thehonorablekingerik @missmohnique @missumuch1918 @unfriendly-blk-hottie @blue-sunflowerr @youreadthatright @youcantkillamutant @marvelpotterlove @drsunshine97 @iamrheaspeaks @loosewindmill @janelledarling @purple-apricots @softnani @forbeautyandlife @deja-r @calitexastrillgoddess @wakandawinning @jozigrrl @halcyonscry @shesakillerkween @raysunshine78 @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @shookmcgookqueen @teheeboo @disneysdarlingdiva @hidden-treasures21 @alexundefined @thadelightfulone 

[tmnt-20xx]

Can you describe everyone's personality? (Casey, April, and Splinter included) Also, how did the guys meet Casey and April, and what were their initial reactions to each other?

Loaded question there, my dude. Gonna hide this under a cut since this is gonna get long. F for all the mobile users. This is gonna be very long! Even without this intro it got to 1460 words.

Leo's dependable and loyal. He's the kind of person you can definitely rely on. He's also very reserved. He doesn't like burdening people with anything he's dealing with. He feels he needs to remain strong and seem like he's got it all together in order to be an effective leader. No one buys that for a second, but it's hard for them to get him to open up. If he talks about his problems with anyone, it's with Donnie. He's definitely a fun guy to be around, though, but be careful about making puns around him. He's not exactly a fan of them (he's in for a shock when he meets other versions of him). Sometimes he can go non-verbal, but he usually likes to be alone during those times. He does quite a bit of echolalia, mostly with Star Trek quotes. He thinks they're motivational. Everyone else thinks he's a dork.

Donnie's a very kind person and does anything he can to help, even if his help isn't necessary. Other times he's very sarcastic and a deadpan snarker. He can seem kinda rude if you don't know him well. He doesn't get metaphors (but will try to make them anyway) and really needs people to be clear in order for him to get things. Surprisingly, he's the one making puns all the time. He loves to make people laugh. He's really hopeful for the future and wants to go to the surface normally, without secrecy and fear. He can get pretty paranoid and nervous about things because of his anxiety. He overthinks things a lot, but sometimes that's a benefit. He goes non-verbal rather often, but he makes up for that by being a good listener to anyone who needs someone to just vent to. He can definitely get a temper, though. His fuse is slightly longer than Raph's and he immediately regrets anything mean he impulsively says during a meltdown. When irritated (typically from people bothering him while he's working in the lab) he hisses and yells at them to get out of his lab. Donnie is not someone to piss off, as he's the one who controls the wifi.

Raph can come off as very aggressive and he doesn't have the most positive disposition... but he's mostly just got a grumpy expression and neutral mood by default. He's kinda chill, but is very prone to meltdowns and does not take well to insults. He can get cocky and taunts a lot, but it's all in good fun. Unless he's taunting an enemy, in which case he's actually hurling insults. He definitely has some anger issues, but he's doing his best to work through that and take out his anger on training dummies instead of people. When he says he'd kill for his friends and family... he might not be entirely exaggerating/joking. He gets really excited about his special interests and can talk for hours about it. If whoever he's talking to frequently tunes him out he'll talk less and less about it until he just stops talking about it with them, which puts a dampener on his mood when hanging out with said person. Thankfully, he has his brothers to talk to. However, he doesn't like talking about his emotions. He won't say why, but it's likely because he wants to appear tough.

Mikey is fun-loving and generally happy at all times. Not much gets to him, but if he's ever upset his brothers will not hesitate to hunt down whoever's the reason behind that (they try their best to not be that reason). He's very eccentric and not even his brothers understand his line of reasoning sometimes. He's pretty much free to do what he wants without fear of judgment, which is primarily why he's as carefree as he is. But he's still a skilled ninja, despite appearances and demeanor and he can totally kick just as much butt as the others, maybe even more since he's rather unpredictable. If you want a mood boost, he's your guy. He loves making things, especially artsy things, but also, unfortunately, food experiments. Don't try those, no matter how strong you think your stomach is. He doesn't seem too openly bothered when his brothers warn people about them.

April is wacky, goofy, and here for a good time, not a long time. She'll kick your butt and look good doing it. She's pretty cool and can be pretty reckless at times. She gets along with pretty much everyone. She also tends to get into a lot of trouble, especially since she likes snooping around places. She's a ninja-in-training, not an official ninja, but that doesn't stop her. Thankfully, she has the guys to back her up. She gets along with Donnie the best and they're really good friends. Despite all of this, she definitely takes no shit when people are acting like fools. She wants to be a hero, she wants to do good and make people's lives better. She hopes her training will help her achieve that.

If you look up reckless in the dictionary, you'll see Casey. He's definitely up there in impulsivity and falling off of rooftops is a common occurrence. However, he's superhumanly lucky, so he survives every time. If only that could counteract turtle luck. He's a force of nature, he's chaotic good, he's gonna bash in as many skulls as necessary to keep the city safe. He's good friends with all of the turtles, Raph and Donnie especially. He's ride or die and while he can be a bit brash, he's a good kid at heart. He just wants to do the right thing and the way he knows how is by being a vigilante. He doesn't listen to orders, usually, unless he really respects the person and thinks they're making a good call.

Splinter didn't expect to become the father of four turtle mutants. He didn't even expect to become a mutant himself. 15 years ago, things changed in the span of a few months. He's trying his best and he's very supportive, though he doesn't know what his sons are talking about most of the time. He is very secretive, reserved, and protective. He thinks distancing himself from the past and not telling anyone about it will be for the best. He wants to protect his family, which is the main reason why he's been keeping them away from the surface. He gets very nervous when they go on patrol, always worried they won't return. He's trained them as much as he can, he only hopes it'll be enough.

And now for the turtles meeting Casey and April! I know usually series just show that, but we're going pre-established for this one.

The turtles first went to the surface a few times when they were about 5 years old. This was just before their training and they were definitely not stealthy. This caught the attention of a certain 6 year old who was surprised to see four turtles climb out of a manhole in the alleyway right outside his window. This 6 year old was Casey Jones. After a few nights of observing them and making excuses to make sure people don't go there and see them, he eventually goes to talk to them and they all hit it off right away. Of course, it's at this point where Casey's mom comes out to investigate... and it doesn't go super badly. His family's seen weirder, though it's difficult to explain just what's meant by that. Since then, the Hamato family has been invited to the Jones' apartment frequently and they stay there during the winters since the lair doesn't have good enough heating when the temperatures become freezing and below. (This is inspired by @fire-fira's AU, which you can check out over here [x] [x] and you should totally check out jhur other TMNT stuff!)

When the turtles were 10, they decided to take a break on a rooftop. It was a few blocks away from Casey's place, they were having a good time, maybe getting a bit loud... and that's a human. Another 10 year old, a young black girl who surprisingly didn't scream when she saw them. Her name? April. She was and still is bright-eyed. She didn't tell her dad, she figured he wouldn't understand. Not like he's told her much. She's been very good friends with all of them and is typically the one to bring pizza. Speaking of, the nearest birthday the turtles had, she got all of them this group necklace with pizza slice charms, six slices that come together to make one big pizza. It's her most valued possession and wears it all the time. Donnie's the only other person who frequently wears his.

[heyheydidjaknow]

What is this witchcraft? Me? Not posting after midnight? I’m shocked to my very core. Anyways, this is one of my longer chapters. If you have any feedback, do not hesitate. As always, previous chapter (and next when applicable) is at the bottom.

Chapter 5

“Dude, hear me out here.” You are vibrating like a kid on pixie sticks. You slide your hands apart as if to display written words. “Lightsaber.”

“What’s a—”

“Donnie.” You put your hand up before he can continue. “Imma stop you right there. I am going to take your hand and kindly ask you to tell me that you know of, or at least have heard of, Star Wars.”

“I do not.”

“That is a fucking crime.”

You have been sitting with him for approximately an hour, watching him dismantle a “Kraang bot” as you register for school and start ordering supplies. You are quickly starting to realize his knowledge of anything outside the bounds of science is limited to whatever he read by virtue of his father, which consisted of one book on Greek mythology, one on the Italian renaissance, one on ancient Japanese history, and one on Japanese folklore, or anything he learned via the interests of his brothers. Because of this, he seems to know exactly jack-shit about things you consider common knowledge, such as the concept of foreshadowing or Poptarts or Hitler outside of a general association with the name and emotion of some sort, leading to interactions like the one you’re having right now.

“It’s not a crime,” he defended. “It's just I was never really interested in that kinda stuff.”

“But it’s Star Wars!” You throw your hands up. “How do you not know of Star Wars, at least?”

“Look, you’re saying it’s really good, right?”

“Well, yeah.” Your voice lowered.

“Why would somebody throw out a good movie?”

You sigh. “Yeah, that’s fair. But!” You point at him. “But I need to watch it with you, if only out of principle. Besides,” you settle down, “it’s a very… traditionally plotted story. I still have to give you that lesson.”

“Yeah, but after I finish this.” He pushes his laptop to the side, picking up the soldering iron and moving back over to the pile of metal you know will become Metalhead.

You nod in agreement, leaning forward in your chair to watch him fuse wires. “You know what?” You smile. “I may give you shit, but it is really cool watching your whole process.”

“Hm?” He looks up at you from his lean forward.

“Well,” you shrug, folding your legs on the chair, “I just mean that it’s cool seeing how you go about building all this junk that is just… what’s the word?”

“Untraditional?”

“Revolutionary.”

He has a funny look on his face. “You think so?”

“Oh, totally.” You nod eagerly. “I told you that I thought you were one of fiction’s greatest minds, didn’t I?”

“No, you didn’t.” His face is turning red.

“Really? I swear I did the day I met you…” Your eyebrows furrow as you try to remember.

“You said something about inspiration.” He smiled softly, voice airy.

“Oh, then I—well, it kinda is the same thing.” You rub the back of your neck, feeling your own face heat up. “Must’ve—uh—misspoke. I do that,” you trail off, “kinda a lot.”

“I think it’s cute.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. ‘Oh come the fuck on. Really?’ “See,” you hear your voice rise a register, “that is so not fair.”

“Huh?” The color drains from his face as he tries to remember what sounds just came out of his mouth. “What did I say?”

“You’re not allowed to just say shit like that.” You cover your face with your hands, feeling your heart swell. “You’re not my boyfriend or anything.”

“Wait, what did I say?”

“Nope. Shut up.” You try to calm yourself down. “You didn’t mean it, whatever it was. It’s fine.”

He blinks, very confused. “You sure?”

“Totally.” Your voice is tight. “One hundred and ten percent sure.”

“You can’t be one hundred ten percent sure.” He looks back down at his project, writing your behavior off. “It’s mathematically impossible

“You wanna bet?” You start looking around the room, prior embarrassment now replaced with a desire to win this artificial conflict. “Got graph paper?”

He scoffs. “You can’t be serious.”

“Do I look like I’m kidding right now?” You lean across the table, tilting his head up to face you properly, determination burning in your eyes. Your voice lowers. “I am going to show you one hundred and ten present sure right here and now as a matter of principle.”

He swallowed, face going red again. “One moment, please.” He fumbles around for a piece of paper and hands it to you, along with a marker.

“Thank you.” You smile sweetly, acting as if nothing happened as you start to sketch. “Give me a bit of time and I will show you one hundred and ten percent sure.”

He rolls his eyes, a smile coming back to his face as he calms down. “Sure you will.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Go back to your transformer while I blow your freakin mind, kay?”

“What’s—”

“Don’t even.”

“Gotcha.”

You chew on your tongue absentmindedly, remembering how much you love spacing out pixels when you hear a notification on your phone. You pull it out, read it, sigh, slide out of your chair. “I’ll be right back,” you promise, heading for the door. “I gotta make sure plot shit happens.”

“You know where to find me.”

“Always do.” You shoot him finger guns as you drag the door closed. You walk over to the brothers, currently engaged in their digital hockey match. You watch, waiting for Raphael’s inevitable victory— ‘Wow, my life is getting pretty damn predictable.’—before clearing your throat to catch their attention.

“So,” you smile, “what’s the game plan for tonight?”

They seem to not understand the question. “Yeah, Leo,” Raphael prompts, shooting a look at him, “what’s the game plan for tonight?”

He paused. “Is there some sort of sport thing happening?”

Your heart drops. “Leonardo,” you ask again, voice lowering, “you have a plan for the thing happening tonight, right?”

“What thing?”

You grab his shoulders. “The spill,” you clarify, voice quiet and sharp. “The mutagen spill. The spill I told you about three days ago?”

His eyes widen. “You said that was happening Friday!”

“Today is Friday!” You let go, throwing your hands in the air out of pure frustration. “That’s why I told you today is Friday! What, did you think I just liked talking about days of the week? That it’s my hobby to keep track of how many days I haven’t died?” ‘I mean, it is, but that’s not the point.’

“Well, it can’t be that important if you forgot about it.” Raphael leaned against the machine. “We’ll just go in and bust some heads. No problem.”

You groan. “Do you guys just have something against planning? I swear everything with you guys has to happen at the very last minute.”

“We don’t need the time to plan. I dunno if you noticed, Y/N, but our ‘plans’ aren’t exactly plan worthy.” He shrugged. “You just have to beat the Kraang out of them and that’s the end of it. It’d be like planning to raid a trailer home.”

You sigh. ‘They’re teenage boys. This is only episode six. Deep breaths.’ “Just… please try to heed my warnings in the future, alright? The last thing we need is for something to sneak up on us.”

“Alright, alright.” Leo focuses his eyes on you. “When is the mutagen getting spilled?”

“Tomorrow. The show wasn’t very specific on times, but some time tomorrow.”

“Then let’s air on the side of caution and assume they mean midnight. What’s the time?”

You pull out your phone. “Seven forty-five.”

“That should be enough time to get there, scope out the place, and be home before dinner.”

You feel the ground shake under you as a metallic clang pierces the air.

That is your cue to leave for fear of getting hit with a laser. “You can’t beat Metalhead. Also, Mikey calls him Metalhead.” You start heading out. “I’d stay and watch you guys waste time trying, but I haven’t eaten today, so I’m gonna grab food and meet you there.” You run out before they can ask any more questions.

If nothing else, all the running has been helping you get in shape. You are not typically the type to take runs, but you also are not typically the type to be pressed to see people. Loneliness is one hell of a motivator, as it turns out, and you were starving in more ways than one. You stop by the first place you see, grabbing some food item with a name you already forget—some sort of burrito, you think—and climb a fire escape belonging to a building overlooking the warehouse in question. You sit on the edge of the building, dangling your legs over the side as you wait for them to get here.

‘Do I like him?’ You pause at your question, mid-bite. ‘I mean, I had a crush on him when I watched the show, but this attachment isn’t romantic affection, is it? I’ve had crushes before, and I’m acting too suave for this to be that.’ You swallow, taking a drink out from your nameless cup. ‘Considering my emotional state? It’s highly likely I’m just latching onto him for lack of anyone or anything truly familiar in my life right now.’ You sigh. ‘But, then again, if that were the case, this feeling what be more familial, wouldn’t it?’ You conclude, whether you are attracted to him romantically or not, it is entirely unfair to both of you to pursue a romantic relationship with him unless he makes the first move. You have more faith in his critical thinking skills than in your own, anyhow. Besides, he acted irrationally enough around April as is; introducing a proper romantic relationship into the mix sounds a bit too risky, especially at such a vulnerable time in his development.

You hear the distant sounds of mechanical joints approaching. ‘Already liking this better than ninja silence.’ You spin around, hopping off the ledge and onto the roof proper as you go to properly admire the metal wonder.

It looks infinitely cooler than the show would have you believe, if possible. Each piece of its hull has a past and you can see it in every scratch, every dent. It wasn’t anywhere near perfect; you can easily see where Donatello had hammered out the shell of the artificial terrapin, where he had had to settle for using concrete, even the faintest ghosts of the pennies making up its chest piece. It was a glorious collage.

You run over, going down on your knees to look it over. “This thing is so fucking cool,” you gush, shuffling around it. “Like, totally fucking awesome!”

You can hear the pride in his voice, the excitement. “I know, right?”

You hop back to your feet, keeping yourself from jumping up and down for the sake of pride. “That is the coolest shit ever!” You grin, sitting back down and taking a drink from your soda. “You never cease to amaze, Hamato.”

“You think?” He sounds almost like a puppy, excited as he is.

“Dude, totally.” You sigh, feeling yourself mellow out a little. “But, more importantly,” you continue, clapping your hands together once, “we should be properly watching the warehouse in case they need backup.”

“Oh, right!” The robot stomped over to you, standing slightly behind you as you dangle your feet over the edge.

You take another drink of soda, feeling the excitement in the air dying down as you look out over the buildings. ‘It’s oddly peaceful up here. Must not have started the attack yet.’ You swing your legs back and forth as silence settled between you two.

After a moment, he cleared his throat. “I meant to ask you before,” he said stiffly, “but how did you know this was happening today? You never explained it.”

You silently thank him for cutting the tension, turning around to face him properly. “Well,” you start, lacing your fingers together around your cup, “remember when I said that the show Leo watches shows up a lot in episodes?”

“Yeah.” You are not exactly sure why he sounds so interested in a detail like this.

“And you know how you watch on cable?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, as it turns out,” you dig into your jacket pocket, “they release television guides, telling people when certain shows are playing, what times they’re playing, shit like that. So,” you conclude, admittedly smug that you had reasoned this part out, “as long as I know what episode is playing during that episode, I can accurately predict any actions that happen during the periods in which you guys have cable access.”

“So, you map out what episodes are scheduled to play on what days and create a timeline around that?”

“Exactly. Not a bad plan.” You pull up a document, showing him the timeline you’ve created with this information. “As long as you guys are on the grid, and as long as Leo sticks to watching that specific channel, I’ll be able to predict the movements of every major player in the series, which means I’ll be able to determine who we can and can’t fuck with based off how they act later down the line, and I’ll be able to give you proper foresight when the situation—”

Your plan is interrupted by a section of the ledge directly next to you to gain a new hole. You leap to your feet, quickly backing up and almost tripping on Metalhead as you regain your senses and hear Mikey’s panicked yelling.

“That doesn’t look good.” You watch the machine starts backing up. “I’m gonna go in and help.”

Something strikes you. “Donnie, real quick, be careful not to run into anything. The technology you’re using is susceptible to Kraang influence.”

“Relax. I got this.” Metalhead gives you a thumbs up before running and leaping off the building, crashing through the glass roof feet first.

You sigh, getting to your feet. ‘Theme of today’s episode is not to rely on technology. Granted,’ you muse, starting to climb down the fire escape, ‘this probably could’ve been solved by adopting a more intuitive controller and having a bit more experience, but I digress.’ You hop the last few feet down. ‘In any case, I’ve done all I can. If that isn’t enough, so be it.’

You hear the explosion as you start walking back to your apartment. ‘He should be coming here in about three or so minutes.’

If you did not know how this would end, you would be much more concerned. As it stands? You know the score before the game is even played.

You wave hello to the doorman as you walk to the elevator. You tap your foot absentmindedly to the elevator music, walk to your apartment, unlock the door, and step inside, picking a large box off the ground in front of it before locking the door.

You walk over and set the box down on your bed, walking back to the kitchen. You pull a Tupperware box from on top of it, pulling a red velvet cupcake from the container and setting it on the counter.

You had died the first time you had made cupcakes. When you had tried making them again from your mother’s recipe, you had found yourself surprisingly unintimidated as you slid them into the oven. Of course, you had sat directly in front of the oven and stared at it during the entirety of the baking process, but you were hardly going to let the worst experience of your life separate you and the most nostalgic, joy-inducing feeling there was. Who else was going to make cupcakes?

You dry your hands, not realizing you had washed them as you pick the confection off the counter. You peel off a portion of the wrapper, biting into the savory and sweet bundle of joy in your mouth. You moan softly in satisfaction, licking the icing off your lips as you walk back over to your bed, sitting down and reaching for the knife under your pillow. You slice the tape, sliding your baby out of its packaging with a soft smile. You reach back in, taking another bite as you pull out a smaller bag. You set the box on the ground, tossing the now-empty wrapper into it and wiping the excess frosting on your jeans, pulling the instrument from its packaging.

Your father had taught you how to play a couple of years back. You never thought you would get weepy over a musical instrument, and yet, here you are, cradling a hunk of wood costing a little more than one day’s allowance. You purse your lips, running your fingers along the neck as you check for any defects in its construction. You crack open the bag and, after about half an hour of fiddling and research, manage to get the strings onto the violin bass without snapping it. It wasn’t an exact replica, but it was close enough that you feel comfortable holding it, feel joy hearing it come in tune.

You play a scale. It sounds like heaven to you.

You put the rest of the trash in the box, laying down next to the first item you have bought. A stand for it would be arriving tomorrow. That makes you smile.

This is the start of something healthy for you. Ironically, it has started with you eating a cupcake, but, still, you have begun to come to terms with your situation. Granted, you have a long way to go; you still have not deleted your social media, wanting to look out for photographs and clips from the funeral, but this is a step in the right direction. You have to believe that.

One small accomplishment: you have kept your apartment sparklingly clean. It is not as if you have much to do, but none the less.

You find your fingers playing an almost lullaby. You stop yourself, not wanting to fall asleep before getting yourself situated. You set your instrument to the side, getting up to close and shelve your cupcake box for future use. You wash your hands again.

You slide your jacket off and throw it onto a seat, knowing you will likely need it tomorrow. You make it a habit to at least get outside once per day, now. You understand that, even if it is not vital, you need to establish a routine. You must keep moving, if only for your sake of mind.

You check to see the curtains are closed, strip, put your clothes in a hamper. You take a shower, comb out your hair, brush your teeth. You do these things consciously, now. You change into a shirt for sleeping, crawling into bed and turning off the light. Tomorrow, you will have to go down to the laundromat to wash your few changes of clothes. You will eat three meals. You will drink eight glasses of water.

You set your phone on the nightstand, plugging it in. You reach over, fingers curling around the handle of the kitchen knife as you slide it under your pillow.

You close your eyes, feeling your heart pang again tonight.

“Goodnight,” you call to no one. “Love you.”

Silence.

It is better than it was. You do not cry tonight, wrapping your arms around your pillow.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” you mumble, feeling yourself drift into unconsciousness. “Love you too.”

Table of Contents

Chapter 4 Chapter 6 part 1