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Dean's a nurse who moonlights saving people off the record who can't afford medical assistance any other way. One night he gets blindfolded and taken to help save a man's life. That man is the crime boss Castiel Dmitri. Dean's life turns interesting when Castiel decides he wants more from Dean.
Start reading the fic here!
#destiel#spn#supernatural#wip#slow burn#fanfic#spn fanfic#dean winchester#castiel#tj writes fanfic#nurse dean#crime boss Cas#saving grace
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IDs in alt
A fan-edit project of what an in-universe zine might look like. What would get passed around by all the little people trying to keep their Spartans going?
#:o)#Halo#Halo Fanfic#Spartans#my writing#this might technically be a wip but I wanted to share#Murphy is a fun character voice#my edits#TJ Murphy
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are we just going to ignore that 'when the drumbot misses his first beat' COULD BE ABOUT HIS HEART?? NOT HIS DRUMS????
had this revalation and had to write something about it immediantly, this is just the intro the rest is on a03
The drumbot knows exactly what it means when he pauses for a moment, breath hitched in synthetic lungs. He knows exactly what it means when he realises the absence of the ever present beat in his chest, the only thing really keeping him tied to his soul. It is only a beat, one beat, one second. Yet it is one beat that is missed. He knows he is dying, that his heart will slow, and in the end? He'll be left a metal husk, no longer even a shell of the man he once was, for he'd lost that long ago. It was only a matter of time really, all things must end. A heart can only take so much.
He considered the violent and fiery deaths that would become of those he called friends, their mechanisms failing them once and for all. Engineered lungs scorched by blackened fumes, wires ripped and torn from cybernetic wings, biomechanical heart pierced straight through, robotic eyes shattered, synthetic brain deprived of its precious oxygen, bionic arm ripped from its socket, wooden body abandoned by the soul.
All pointless, all inevitable. All deaths that amounted to nothing, and he was sure his would be the same.
#the mechanisms#the mechanisms band#the mechs#drumbot brian#death to the mechanisms#the mechanisms fanfic#TJ writes stuff
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Who wants to read Green Creek boys fic? I'll just put it here for yall these are both post brothersong
#brothersong#green creek series#green creek boys#tj klune#fanfiction#fanfic#werewolves#whump#whump writing
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I fuck myself over and over (1961)
stabbing, drug use
Darry walked into the cold evening, glancing around him to make sure no one was watching, before pulling out a cigarette.
Honestly, he wasn’t sure where he was going. Paul was busy with his parents, and Hudson had told him about this new girlfriend he had over today.
Darry looked over his shoulder when he noticed the car following him. It was a red mustang. A Soc car. Darry moved to the side of the road, wishing he had Paul with him. No one messed with him when he had Paul. The guys normally left Darry alone. It didn’t feel great, knowing they only liked him because of Paul, but whatever.
The mustang got closer, and Darry moved further. He didn’t have a good feeling about this. He grabbed the switchblade in his pocket, ready to use it if necessary. He looked behind him again when he heard the car speed up. Sighing in relief when it passed him, Darry loosened his hold on his switchblade. Glancing down to kick a rock in front of him, Darry paused when he heard the motor stop.
Looking up, Darry saw the mustang now ahead of him. It had taken a sharp right, blocking Darry’s way. Darry took a sharp breath, relief replaced with fear. 3 guys came out of the car, none of which Darry recognized.
He backed up, preparing to make a run for it. But before he could try, one of the guys had a hold of his arms, tugging backwards so Darry lost his footing.
Darry grunted as he fell, cursing under his breath. Darry snapped his eyes open, not noticing that they fell closed, when he heard the familiar sound of a switchblade opening. He doubled his efforts in fighting, trying to wiggle out of the guy's grasp or at least get his own blade.
It hit Darry that these boys weren't the ones from school, they were older. College guys. He could smell the booze on them, could hear the way they were slurring their words.
“Looks like we caught a grease.” One of the guys said, a sneer forming on his face. He was the one with the blade.
Darry glared at him, briefly thinking about spitting in his face. Another glance at the blade told him not to.
One of the guys grabbed his hair and pulled his head back. Darry gasped, clenching his jaw.
Now, with one guy holding arms back, one holding head, and the last one in front of him, Darry was completely vulnerable.
“Hit him, James!” The guy behind him said. James grinned at him, before reeling his empty fist back and striking Darry in the diaphragm. Darry gasped, body folding into itself. They finally let go of his head and Darry looked down, coughing. He barely got a glimpse of the blade before it was plunged into his stomach.
Sucking in a breath, Darry was finally allowed to collapse onto the sidewalk. The boys walked back to their car, laughing and stumbling.
Darry lifted himself up, groaning in pain. Sitting up, he placed his hand over the stab wound and pressed down. Gasping slightly at the new wave of pain the action brought, Darry closed his eyes and tried to figure out what to do.
He could go to Paul’s house and risk being kicked out. Or, he could go back home and risk worrying his parents.
Or he could go to Hudson.
Darry hated to bother him when he already does so much, but he didn’t seem to have a choice. His house was closest and Darry was losing a lot of blood real fast.
Inhaling, Darry used his free hand to push himself off the ground. He exhaled once he was standing up right, grimincing when he felt the wound start to throb in pain. Hudson’s house was about a half a mile away.
Taking another deep breath, Darry began the long walk (stumble) to the house.
After a tiring, slow paced walk, Darry finally got to the doorstep of Hudson’s place. Breathing heavily, Darry brought his fist to the door. Knocking, he heard the shuffling of feet inside, muffled voices of two people. Before Darry could change his mind and walk away, the door opened.
“Darlin’?” Said the southern accent Darry has grown to love. Darry couldn’t help it, he let out a low whimper, his body crashing down onto Hudson.
Hudson grunted under Darry weight, looking at him curiously before grabbing him by the upper shoulders and dragging him inside.
“Who’s the wet dog?” The girl on the couch asked. Hudson glared at her, hauling Darry onto the armchair by the door. Darry groaned as the movement agitated his wound. He turned to the side and finally allowed himself to throw up.
When Darry was done, Hudson left to go get some cleaning supplies. Darry groaned in his spot on the chair, turning his head to cough up what he hoped wasn't blood. Though judging by the sound the girl made, it probably was.
Breathing heavily, Darry took in the girl. She had brown hair, blue eyes, and clearly high out of her mind. Darry traveled his eyes to her arm and saw that she hadn’t bothered to take the belt off it yet. She was pretty, a clear Soc girl. The thought made Darry's stomach turn.
“Fuck you staring at, mutt?” She sneered. Darry averted his eyes.
“Nothin’” He mumbled, praying for Hudson's return.
And as if God was real, Hudson turned the corner to the living room. Darry perked up, glad to not be alone with the girl.
“You gonna puke anymore?” Hudson asked, bending down to clean up the mess. He paused at the sight of blood, before going back to the task on hand. Darry groaned, coughing.
“No, but I'm still bleedin’ out.” He hissed. Hudson looked up, raising his eyebrows. Seeming to finally notice the wound, Hudson started cussing.
“Shit! Why didn’t ya mention that?!” He yelled, startling both Darry and the girl.
“I thought you knew!” Darry shouted back, startled by the change of events. Hudson abandoned the cleaning, running to get first aid.
“Damnit kid, thought you knew better than that.” Hudson was muttering, walking back in. Darry didn’t get the chance to reply when Hudson came to him and yanked his shirt up.
“Shit!” Darry swore, throwing his head back. Hudson muttered an apology.
Darry kept his eyes on the mystery girl the entire time Hudson spent stitching him up. He tried not to grimace or let the tears fall, and she was nice enough to keep eye contact with him.
“Alright darling, all done.” Hudson said, standing up. Darry breathed out a sigh of relief.
Collecting the medical materials, Hudson walked out the room.
“You okay, kid?” The girl asked. Darry let his eyes focus on her before nodding and allowing his head to fall back. Hudson came back holding a small bag.
“Take this.” He instructed Darry, handing him a small tablet from the bag. Darry blinked up at him.
“What is it?” He mumbled, reaching out for the pill.
“Just put it in your mouth.” Hudson said, rolling his eyes and sitting on the coffee table.
“Not the first time you’ve said that.” Darry grumbled, forgetting about the other girl. He put the white tablet in his mouth and swallowed it dry. “You gonna tell me what it is now?” Darry asked.
“100 milligrams of Fentora.” Hudson deadplanned, moving to stand up.
“What?!” Darry yelled, sitting up. He barely registered the pain in his side.
“Lay back down!” Hudson said between gritted teeth, snapping his fingers and pointing to the couch. Darry obeyed.
It wasn’t often Hudson got mad at him.
#darry curtis#the outsiders#fanfic#tj writes#sodapop curtis#ponyboy curtis#steve randle#johnny cade#dallas winston#paul holden
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Hey milk-crater, for you fic prompt I would like to Request TJP and Francesco Akira and the Tarot Card was the wheel of fortune.
Thank you :)

Thanks for the prompt! Sorry the fic is short, but I hope you like it.
Akira had assumed his life would forever chart upward: he was a fireball, after all, shooting into the sky.
Life did not turn out that way. Instead of uninterrupted glory, every win was followed by a downfall. He’d win tag team belts with TJP only to lose them soon after. He gained a friend in Dan only to have the bastard turn traitor.
But if life were a mix of dizzying highs and deep dark lows, at least he had TJP. TJP was so solid, so strong, so steady. He’d never change.
When Akira saw TJP’s monstrous hand reach out from the coffin, only then did he realize that TJP was just as mutable as everything else in this world.
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Mirrored Memory [catboy ue fanfic]
Ok so, TJ is looking for a warm place to stay the night, and some bougie show breeder's house happened to leave one of the windows open so lil teenage kitty scurries in
And accidentally finds himself in the kitty nursery
And little Akira is like, newly adopted and separated from his litter for the first time so of course he's home sick and can't sleep
And at first TJ thinks the place is empty but he spots Frankie and they make eye contact and he's like "ohhhh shit I'm busted"
He expects Frankie to start crying or something and then the owners are definitely calling hybrid control and he'd be in BIG trouble for "attacking a house cat"
But Frankie is really curious about this cat, cause he's never seen anyone like TJ before, he's never seen a stray before
It's not hard to think he's young enough to have never seen another hybrid outside his litter before
So he bounds right up to him because who's ever heard of self preservation? Not Akira that's for sure
And he starts asking questions to TJP, like
Who are you? Where'd you come from? Why'd you come in through the window, you're supposed to use the door? Why do you have scratches all over you? Why are your clothes so old? What breed are you?
And the whole time tj is standing in the open window, it's like mid-winter so he's wet from the waist down from melting snow and there's a sharp wind from behind him that makes him shiver real bad and Akira finally notices his teeth chattering
So he sneaks TJ down to the rest of the house, careful not to wake the owners, and they throw TJ's jacket in the dryer, and then go to the kitchen where Akira struggles to make him some hot soup
The next morning TJ wakes up in Frankie's nursery, buried in blankets with his tummy full and warm for the first time in months
Akira left him a poorly spelled little note and a half eaten plate of breakfast. The note says that he had to go to training today and he left TJ half his breakfast in case he was hungry again, and that he doesn't know where TJ came from but he's glad he has a friend now because this place is big and empty and he hated being alone
TJ reads the note as he eats, and when he's done he grabs his jacket and scampers back out the same window he snuck in and never looks back.
Because as kind as Frankie was to him, staying here is just too risky. The owners will find him and kick him out, or some stray he has heat with see him prancing around with a show kitten and that would make Akira a target, or hybrid control would recognize his face and lock him up. Too many things could go wrong
Years later TJP is tentatively staying in a hybrid foster home. Despite the others all having checkered pasts like him, he still feels like an outsider. Which might be why he's laying awake in the rafters when he hears the quietest *tink!* as someone slips in the window.
A little homeless Akira is fresh on the streets and he's starving.
Luckily he's welcome to stay (after the scare of TJP pounce tackling him from the shadows and interrogating his intentions)
The two don't recognize each other from that one night when they were both kids, and maybe they never will
But Frankie still likes to share his breakfast with TJ ❤️
Bonus: young tjp and akira designs

#this is my first time posting fic stuff I'm sorry if it's formatted weird!!!#admin pep#tjp#francesco akira#catch 2/2#njpw#fic#fanfic#fanfiction#writing#the catboy agenda#catboy au#pls send asks if you wanna hear more catboy lore 😅😅#tj perkins#united empire
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Writing Patterns
Thanks @suseagull04 for tagging me! This was fun :)
List the first (optionally: and last) sentence of your last 10 (or less) ao3 works. My ao3: glasshouses_and_stones
From newest to oldest:
▪︎why don't we kick it up a notch? (let my hands give it a shot)
(hockey rpf, Jamie Drysdale/Trevor Zegras)
The adrenaline from the game is still buzzing under Jamie's skin when he and Tregor bang through their front door, a trail of equipment bags and tossed dressed shoes forgotten in their wake.
He kind of wants to die a little.
-
▪︎a place they still put sugar in their iced tea
(RWRB, Alex/Henry)
Henry thinks he's going to die.
He was wrong.
-
▪︎i'll do everythin' i can to help you through
(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)
It was a shitty game.
They don't have any reason to stay awake after that.
-
▪︎How to Spring Clean
(How to be a Normal Person, Gus/Casey)
It’s that time of year again!
Whatever.
-
▪︎rough on the surface, but you cut through like a knife
(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Dylan Strome)
He’s annoying.
"Now, how about some pizza?"
-
▪︎why celebrities should NEVER look themselves up
(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)
Mitch thought it was funny at first.
Mitch just huffs sleepily before he's drifting off into a dream-less doze.
-
▪︎want
(original work, f/f)
The candles have almost burnt out.
I think I feel something press into my forehead before I fall under.
-
▪︎Suddenly
(Watcher Entertainment rpf, gen)
It's eight in the fucking morning—too early for Ryan to be up, but he doesn't think he got any sleep last night anyways, so what's the point of just laying there?
Suddenly, sure, but it happened all the same.
-
▪︎the potential of us
(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews/William Nylander)
It’s a quiet night in.
"I guess it was always you two."
-
▪︎pink camellias, heliotrope, and morning glories
(hockey rpf, Mitch Marner/Auston Matthews)
Honestly, Shakira is such a queen (Hips Don't Lie is a banger, for real), and Mitch is about ready to bow down at her feet because she is doing God's work.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face.
-
This honestly all over the place, lmao. I start most of my stories off very choppy with a short sentence, and my next sentence usually elaborates on it. I think its supposed to be a hook, but who knows? I like it.
Tagging anyone who sees this and who wants to do it! Please tag me in it if you do it. I'd love to read yours :)
#tag game#tagging game#hockey#writing#ao3#fanfic#fanfiction#hockey rpf#rpf#mitch marner#mitchy mouse#auston matthews#atm#william nylander#willy styles#1634#163488#watcher#ryan bergara#shane madej#rwrb fic#rwrb#alex claremont diaz#prince henry#ao3 fanfic#how to be a normal person#tj klune#jamie drysdale#jamie baby#trevor zegras
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Comment on old fic people!!!!
Been having a shit few weeks and I got comments on fics that are 10 and 5 years old. Lemme tell you that made my whole damn day. Y'all don't understand. Like it literally turned my mood around.
Also I stay forgetting what I write so it was fun going back to read old fics. Soooo
COMMENT ON OLD FICS!
#tj writes fanfic#fanfic#fanfiction#ao3#ive gotten in the habit of also commenting reread on fics#that way authors know why the hits go up but kudos don't#comment on old fics#if its your first time reading it kudos#old fics deserve love too
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ive always believed azami should be able to get out of the daze. NO it makes no sense. but it could hang out with mary and theyd be a family and bond and both be weird abt the modern world and thered be peace and love on planet earth
#ots 1am but just yoy wait til i write a post abt how azami would get along with everyone#UGH I COULD WRITE SOMETHING LIKE THE KENJIROU FANFIC BUT WITH AZAMI AND THEN WITH RIN AND TJ#sorry. i got excited.#kagevinnie
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Patching Wounds

Fandom: Baa Baa Black Sheep
Pairing: Jim Gutterman/OC
Rating: T
Word Count: 3,468
Summary: While patching up a newcomer to Vella la Cava, Nurse Laura Tate discovers the man he was fighting is a face from her past.
A/N: Comments appreciated.
September, 1943
Laura smiled playfully at the blond-haired lieutenant in front of her, watching his eyes light up at the attention. He wasn’t the first young pilot she had seen who was doll dizzy, but she had to admit he was one of the cuter ones. He had sky-blue eyes and a curved, interesting mouth that lent him a sweet, innocent look. She had a feeling he was anything but.
“TJ Wiley, ma’am,” he said. “I’d shake your hand, but I wouldn’t want to get blood on you.” He indicated his hand, which had a split knuckle and definitely some drying blood.
“I’m a nurse, Lieutenant,” she replied, keeping an easy smile. “A little blood doesn’t scare me. What worries me is you not being able to walk straight in here.”
“It’s nothin’ serious,” he said. “I just got a bit of a headache.”
Laura grabbed a small flashlight and aimed it at his eye. His pupil didn’t contract as quickly as it should have, and she gave him a sympathetic look. “On your feet, Lieutenant.” She took a few steps away. “Walk over here.”
Wiley set his jaw and glared at her, then stood and started walking, He instantly began to weave slightly, and she saw the determined look on his face shift to concern before another flinch of pain furrowed his brow. “Am I doing all right?”
“You’re just fine, TJ,” she said, reaching out to catch his elbow and lead him back to the bed. “It just looks like you got your bell rung a little bit. We’ll have to keep you overnight.”
Wiley’s face fell, and the other pilot across the room laughed. “That’s what you get for puttin’ a burst in me, Wiley.”
Laura’s heart skipped a beat as it always did when she heard a Texas drawl, but this time she couldn’t help but look in the direction of the speaker. He looked nondescript from the back, a typical Marine pilot with short hair and dirt and blood on his uniform. But for a moment, he’d almost sounded like…
It’s not possible.
“I said I was sorry!” Wiley burst out next to her. “It was an accident! I don’t know why you don’t believe me!”
“It ain’t that I don’t believe you’re sorry!” The other pilot twisted around. “It’s that I don’t think you should be flyin’ if you don’t know how to keep your thumb off the damn button!”
Laura saw him before he saw her, but it was only a second’s difference or so. In glaring at Wiley, the other pilot’s eyes flicked to her. A stony mask of confusion furrowed his brow, and he turned away, but in those brief moments where she had a full look at his face, she had an intimate and terrible understanding of just how cruel and ironic the war…and the world…could be.
It's Jim.
It took her far too long to realize that both Heather and Wiley were staring at her, no doubt wondering why she’d frozen in place. Even worse, she realized she had to cross over by Heather and Jim to get a bowl of saline water for Wiley’s split knuckle. She forced herself to head for the sink beside Heather, doing all she could not to look at the man the other nurse was treating.
As she walked back over, however, her peripheral vision caught a hold of him. He was looking at her, and he still had a curious, confused look on her face. Her stomach twisted. Did he not remember her? Was she wrong? Was it possible that wasn’t Jim Gutterman sitting there? It had been a long time since she’d last seen him. He’d only been a teenager then, skinnier and more floppy-haired. Maybe she was wrong.
She reached Wiley and set down the water bowl. Wiley had a slightly sad, pouty turn to his mouth now, and he barely looked up at her when she gently took his hand and began to clean the split knuckle. He flinched as the salt water entered the wound.
“Sorry, Lieutenant," she murmured.
“It’s not your fault,” he murmured softly.
Laura ducked her head until she got in his field of vision. It was obvious the comment from the other pilot had really cut deep. She could have sworn Wiley looked like he was trying not to cry. Once she managed to get his eyes on her, she offered him a warmer, more inviting smile. He instantly smiled back, though she could still see pain in his eyes. Empathy warmed her heart and she gave his fingers a tiny squeeze. “Your name’s TJ?” she asked.
“Yes ma’am.”
“All right.” She set down the towel and picked up a bandage, carefully curving his fingers so she could affix it firmly to his wound. “TJ, since I’m about to ask you to take your shirt off, how about you drop the ma’am? My name’s Laura.”
Across the room, the other pilot jerked and twisted around again. Although Laura tried to put all of her concentration on looking at Wiley, her peripheral vision again caught the expression on the other man's face. Moreso, she saw him reach up and touch his mouth, rubbing his fingers over his lips and jaw, and her heart rate tripled at the familiar motion. It was Jim. She felt herself grow dizzy as her mind struggled to process the implications of his presence, and she briefly wondered if this was all a strange, amazing dream. Jim was here. In an instant, she remembered so much about him. So much she’d never really forgotten but hadn’t chosen to think about because…
Because of what had happened the last time they’d seen each other.
Reality crashed through her shock, and on its heels came Wiley’s voice, firmly grounding her. “That’s a nice name, Laura. Where are you from?”
“Take off your shirt and I’ll tell you.”
Oh…that had been the wrong thing to say. Laura cringed as Heather shot her a reproachful look across the room. She'd been too focused on improving Wiley's mood after Jim had snapped at him. She remembered all too well how the right words from Jim Gutterman could cut someone open. For goodness's sake, Laura, she thought, be professional!
Wiley hopped a little too eagerly off of the bed and unbuttoned his uniform shirt, tossing it behind him. Across the room, Heather was back to fixing whatever was wrong with Jim’s face, but she could see his hands clenching the bed. Did it hurt, what Heather was doing? Or did he want that badly to turn around and look at her?
She refocused on Wiley. He was a tall, thin man with muscles in the right places, but nevertheless a little more fragile-looking than a typical Marine. Laura supposed she might have found him attractive if he’d been less eager to strip down. Young pilots always had one thing on their minds when it came to women and Laura had never really been one to play around with a new one each night. Still, Wiley’s bouncy, puppy-dog attitude was a little endearing, and she rewarded him with a warm smile before starting to look over his figure for bruises.
“I grew up in the military,” she said. “Pa and I moved to a lot of different places.”
“Ever been to New York?”
She shook her head. “No. I always wanted to go, though. I wanted to go everywhere when I was younger. I loved seeing new places every few years. But…well, then high school happened."
“Well, what happened in high school?”
She found a forming bruise on Wiley’s lower chest and began to inspect it. “My mother died. Pa left the military, and we stayed in one place.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
“It’s all right. It was a long time ago.” A slight heaviness weighed on her chest and her words. She had felt it before, always when she turned her thoughts from Amarillo and everything that had happened there. Everyone and everything that had died there. She felt around the bruise and Wiley cringed. “Does that hurt?”
“Not a lot. I don’t think anything’s broken. It sure doesn’t feel good though.”
She continued probing, gauging his reactions, and then nodded. “You’re right. I think you have a bruised rib. I'll have the doctor look at it. In the meantime, you're staying here."
“Are you sure I can’t fly? I feel fine. Maybe a nap or something?”
Laura shook her head. “I wouldn't advise sleep, Lieutenant. Concussions can get dangerous if you sleep. Now hold on while I go get Doctor Reese.”
“Before you go,” Heather called, “can you help?”
Laura blinked, looking confusedly at Heather. “What do you need?”
“Just come here.”
With a smile at Wiley, Laura walked quickly over to Heather, realizing belatedly that Jim had his shirt off as well. Her eyes briefly lingered on the spread of freckles across his back and noted that he had developed broad shoulders and muscle as he’d grown. By the time she got in front of him, however, she was doing her best to avoid looking at him at all. Staring at his chest would have been inappropriate, but looking him in the face was still worse. “What’s wrong?”
Heather looked at Jim. “You said you’ve got a headache?”
Professional concern instantly overrode personal discomfort. Laura looked and saw that he was holding his stomach with a bandaged hand. He had a split lip, and his brown eyes were carefully looking everywhere but at her.
“You see how he came in here?” Heather asked. “Just the same as the other pilot. Can you check his eyes? I think he has a concussion too.”
Laura felt a blaze of anger sizzle through her as she realized what Heather was doing. Putting her temper in check, she answered. “What’s wrong with your flashlight?” The words were short…she wasn’t able to hide her annoyance completely.
Heather held up her flashlight, clicking it on and off. No light appeared. “It’s not working," she said innocently.
Laura suppressed an urge to sigh deeply. Instead, she gave Heather a full on Glare, letting the other nurse know she was on to her. Then, steeling herself, she turned to Jim. “Can you look at me please, Captain?
He didn’t move and she wondered briefly if she was going to have to duck to get into his vision the way she had with Wiley. But then, he sighed deeply and lifted his eyes until they met hers, and if she had any remaining doubts about who he was, they were instantly washed away. She saw a multitude of expressions cross his face as the moment lingered, and she broke the gaze first, lifting her flashlight to inspect his eyes.
Heather was right. He had a concussion, too. Laura gave him a sympathetic look. “I’ll get the doctor in here to confirm, but it looks like you’ll both be here tonight.”
“I’ll get the doctor,” Heather said immediately, and headed for the door before Laura could argue. Jim quickly began putting his shirt back on, and Laura moved away from him back to Wiley, who smiled again at her presence.
“I guess if I’m stuck here, I’m in good company,” he said.
“Don’t bet on it," Laura felt her lips pulling up again. Wiley's smile was infectious, it was hard not to smile back. “My shift is over in an hour and another nurse who isn’t familiar with your flirtatious comments will be on duty. She might not be as nice as I am.”
“No, she might not. So, what do you do when you’re off duty?”
Laura tapped her lips. “Nothing you’d find interesting, I’m sure.”
“I find that hard to believe. Come on, give me something!”
“Give it a rest, TJ,” Jim grumped.
Wiley ignored Jim, keeping his eyes on Laura. Laura shrugged, still smiling. “I like to read. I like to dance. I like to swim.”
“You like the beach?”
“I love the beach. You’d think growing up in the Navy, you’d get tired of the water. I never have. Even living in Amarillo, I just found the closest river or lake and I’d spend as much time as I could there.”
“Well, when I’m out of here, maybe we can take a walk on the beach.”
Laura's eyebrows went up.
“TJ!” Jim said sharply.
Wiley ignored him, and Laura opened her mouth, genuinely wondering what she was about to say. But before she could reply, the door opened and Doctor Reese and Heather came back in. She focused on them as Heather gave a quick rundown on Jim and Doctor Reese looked him over.
"You can answer me later,” Wiley whispered. "I'll be here all night." He grinned.
Laura nodded, realizing she really didn't know what to say.
Doctor Reese came over and checked Wiley. “Yeah, we’ll keep him overnight too. Take him to a private room, I want to make sure that bruise isn’t anything worse than what we’re seeing.”
“Yes, Doctor,” Laura replied.
Heather leaped in as Doctor Reese left. “I can take him.”
Laura stared fiercely at her and shook her head. Heather stared right back and nodded so forcefully her hat almost fell off. Then, she offered support to Wiley. “Come on.”
“I’ll see you later!” Wiley called to Laura.
“Get some rest, Lieutenant!” she called back.
And then she was alone. With Jim.
She moved to the other side of the room and turned down a bed, then returned to where he was sitting. “Captain Gutterman, if you’ll come with me, please?”
He sighed deeply and stood up, wobbling. She instantly reached out to steady him and he pulled away quickly, then moaned and sat heavily on the bed. He muttered a curse, and whipped around, vomiting hard into the bin on the floor. Laura stayed next to him until the heaving stopped, then quietly got him a cup of water.
“Sorry,” he muttered as he took the cup from her.
“I’m a nurse. I’m used to it. At least you didn’t do it on me.”
He snorted but didn’t quite make it to a smile. “Wouldn’t that be just what I deserve? First time I seen you in eight years an' that’s my hello.”
Laura offered her arm. “Come on, Captain. There’s a quieter bed in the back where you can rest.”
He didn’t take her arm, instead fixing her with a Look. “What are you doin' here, Laura? This is a war.”
Laura lifted her eyebrows. “What are you doing here?” she shot back. “Alice’s last letter said you were going to a correctional institute.”
He blinked and reeled back, then narrowed his eyes at her. “Alice…wrote you?”
“Her last letter was Christmas of 1935. I wrote back but she didn’t answer. I believe your family had moved to Borger by then.”
He stared at her, then laughed. It wasn’t a pleasant laugh. He leaned forward and took her arm and suddenly he was closer to her than he’d ever been. Rattled and dizzy from the proximity, she shifted sideways, trying to put some distance between them and still keep him from falling over. Slowly, she moved him towards the bed in the back.
“West Texas Correctional Institute. It was either that or the Marine Corps,” he said.
It was killing her not to ask what he’d done. The most she knew was that he’d run away north. Alice’s letters had been full of erase marks, and she’d always suspected they’d been censored to keep her from really knowing what was going on.
“Why are you here?” he asked. “People are dyin' here.”
“Not if I can help it,” she replied. “It wasn’t ever a question for me. I turned eighteen and went to nursing school. I joined the Navy as soon as they let me. I grew up in the military, Captain, and I wanted to go back to it.”
“You would have been safer in Amarillo.”
Fury pricked at Laura’s eyes and she was grateful they had reached the bed because she unceremoniously let go of him, letting him slump down onto the sheets. He rolled to his back and threw an arm over his eyes.
“I wanted nothing more to do with Amarillo,” she snapped. “I left there as soon as I could.”
He slowly drew his arm off of his eyes to look at her. When she saw realization dawning, she nodded. “Yes. After you left, I did too.”
His face twisted. “Aw, now don’t put that on me!”
“I'm not! Not all of it. But you did have a hand in it and I'd be lying if I said otherwise!” she argued.
“You were always gonna leave and go be a nurse!”
“But maybe not a military nurse. Maybe I would have come back to Amarillo after school! I would have spoken to you about it.”
“You would have spoken to me about it?” he echoed, sitting up slowly.
“James Gutterman,” she said, her voice shaking, “were you or were you not courting me before everything happened?”
He stared at her for a long time, long enough that she began to feel a sense of panic in her chest. There was no way she could be wrong about this. His words that day had been so clear. But now, as time passed with no reply, she truly began to wonder if somehow she had dreamed the whole thing.
And then…
“I don’t believe we officially started courting, but it was my intention. Yes."
Laura poured strength into her legs as the fury in her eyes began to turn into something else. She would not cry. She would not cry. She had to get through this conversation without crying because she had no idea when or if the two of them would ever mention this again.
“Then I would eventually have spoken to you about my plans to become a nurse,” she replied evenly.
“So, I messed up your life, is that it? Ol’ Jimmy Gutterman lettin’ another one down?”
“Don’t you do that self-pity act!” Laura snapped. “It might have worked when you were seventeen but not now! You hurt me, and you hurt me good, Jim. You cut me out of your life. I knew you were in pain but I also knew you. I knew it wasn't just your father or the ranch that was hurting you. But when I tried to help you and to be there for you the way you’d always been there for me, you treated me like a complete stranger!”
“Well, I told you, didn’t I? That last time we saw each other, I told you I was different and you didn’t wanna hear it! You were hangin’ on to some dreamy notion of you an’ me an' thinkin’ everything would be roses…”
“No!” Laura shouted, and the two of them froze, staring at the door, waiting for someone to come barreling in. A few seconds passed…no sound of running feet…and so Laura continued. “I wasn’t dreaming that day, Jim. I was awake. I was scared. I was losing you and I was begging you not to go. But like you said, you were different. You didn’t trust me anymore and worse, you were acting like I meant nothing to you at all. Those things you said to me? They shouldn’t have ever come out of your mouth. Not to me.”
He stared at her again, silently.
“I’m not going to let you say you let me down,” she said. “I’m not going to let you add me to a list of failures. Because we’re here now, Jim. If you decide you want to trust me again, I’ll be here. And in the meantime, don’t go to sleep or the concussion might kill you. Then you would be letting me down.”
He didn’t answer, and Laura turned away. She was halfway across the room when he called out again. “Laura!”
She turned around.
“You’re right.” He struggled to his feet and fixed his eyes on her. “Those things I said. I shouldn’t have said them. Not to anyone. But especially not to you. I’m sorry, I…I really am. I won’t ask your forgiveness, but I want you to know that I’ve lived every day knowin’ what I said to you an' regrettin’ it.”
It was Laura’s turn to stare. He held the gaze, open and honest, and she could feel herself melting. She felt her insides tremble and the urge to throw herself into his arms actually twitched her fingers. But that was all that moved until she forced herself to nod. “Thank you, Jim.”
He nodded once, and slowly sat down. On the other side of the room, the door opened, and Heather came back in. Without saying another word, Laura turned and continued cleaning up the aftermath of Wiley and Gutterman’s visit.

#baa baa black sheep#black sheep squadron#jim gutterman#jim gutterman/oc#oc#original female character#writer#writing#author#fanfiction#fanfic#james whitmore jr#lynne frederick#tj wiley#robert ginty
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WOAH GUYS LOOK I WROTE ANOTHER FIC HOW CRIMINAL OF ME. anyway the TMA hyperfixation has set in guys prepare for more of these, anyway here mroe about the fic
Like Real People Do -- G -- 4954 words -- Complete
“Statements huh?” Martin said with a small noise, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh, “Even when you're sick? You do know what a break is- right Jon?” The archivist opened his eyes, shifting in his position into an awkward pose so he could look at Martin, “Despite popular belief, I do in fact know what a break is.” He went silent for a moment, before continuing, “I think- I’ve been away from them for too long, it’s taking its toll. I thought if I-” “You thought if you could read a few it would make you feel better?” Martin finished for him, voice kind, “That Ceaseless Watcher needs to calm down, you’re sick and can't help it.” --- OR Jon is a little sick, has statement withdrawals and is overall the most pathetic man in existence. Martin comes to check in on him
#TJ writes stuff#jmart#jonmartin#tma#tma fanfic#tma fic#the magnus archives#magpod#the mag pod#teaholding
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I had the pleasure of zooming with the author TJ Klune who writes queer books (most notable The House in the Cerulean Sea), he said that he had started his writing career writing fanfics. Just more proof that it is a valid point of writing and everyone needs to start somewhere. Even if you don’t go anywhere big with writing, you are still a writer because you write beautiful words that you put effort into. ❤️
Psst hey!! Over here!
Fic writers and original story writers are the same!
Writing fanfics doesn't make you any less of a writer!
Yall are just gatekeepers. Stop being assholes. There's room for everyone!
#fanfiction#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction writer#author#ao3 author#fanfic authors#writer#novel writing#creative writing#writerscommunity#novelist#TJ Klune
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@evaiskindaweird
This ship so fucking funny I love it, I have a fanfic idea but currently I cannot write because my sibs have the computers
I have dubbed it Botsford Cheese
Headcanons:
Sally & Tim have started dating Dr Two Brains after Rhyme & Reason and when I say after, I mean it: the next day they had started dating
Tim & Sally definitely told the kids that they both have their eyes on someone before; and when they started dating they were really excited to tell the kids, but the person in question wanted it to be private even to the kids for a bit they can meet after a week. Kinda like we are seeing if this would even be compatible type thing.
When Dr two-brains comes over for the first time TJ & Becky flipped out. Becky was telling her parents why HIM? and basically scolds them (she got scolded for that later) and TJ was like my parents are dating the number 1 supervillain!?
Dr two-brains would definitely flirt with Sally during trials which others brushes off for them just doing his own thing because he does it a lot. Sally would probably not react because first, it's private and people would get really confused if she started responding and second, she is in the middle of a trial she has to stay professional.
Bob will be really and I mean really confused and a bit terrified because now squeak will find out their identities quickly (squeak has not... yet)
Dr would sing & dance with them a lot, though two-brains realized that he had not sung or danced in a while so Sally & Tim sweeps the floor with them.
That is all I have for these idiots!! :>
#wordgirl#wordgirl villains#wordgirl headcanon#wordgirl shipping#becky botsford#dr two brains#tim botsford#captain huggyface#tj botsford#Barbarian yapping#botsford cheese
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HI im writing a doodleworld fanfic (embarassingly)
first chapter is out now!! its about doomed quincy/TJ as well as Quincy learning about the strings and being like ??????? yippeeeeeee
inspired by @chronofluff 's String Theocracy fic !!!! Its super good please go check it out
(sorry for the tag KDVSJDBSKND)

#doodle world#player doodle world#quincy doodle world#quincy x tj doodle world#suzie doodle world#tj doodle world#roblox doodle world
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FINAL CHAP!!!!!!
once again on Wattpad and AO3 <3
{ used some prompts from: @urfriendlywriter @dumplingsjinson @novelbear and @floweredhat <3 }
1, 2, 3 also want to express that I am. So sorry for the end I’m so tired and really tried to find a good ending so I hope it’s ok it’s at almost 4k words and didn’t know what else to add
“You’ve fallen for the biggest idiot in the world.”
Raph slinks into the lab as soon as Casey and April leave, Donnie having his nose in a book and a mug of tea in hand as the door shuts behind him. He would grin if his face weren't stuck that way already.
"What'd April tell you?"
The scientist rolls his eyes as his older brother takes a seat across from him.
"That he's into you and apparently can only tell when he has romantic attraction to girls."
Raph snorts at that.
"Seriously!" Donnie retorts, causing his brother to laugh a little harder.
"I believe you," he says after a minute, smile finally fading—his face was beginning to hurt. "Casey basically said he's into me, he just seemed so...calm about it—almost like he didn't realize he said it."
Raph props an elbow up on the table they're sitting at, sitting his chin in his hand and staring wistfully in the distance as he continues to speak.
"We were slow dancing together," and the ear-to-ear grin returns, though he tries to hide it behind his hand to keep the moment a little more serious, "and it was, like...the way he looked at me, I guess, it seemed different afterwards, so I can only guess that maybe he's started realizing."
Hiding the smile, of course, didn't do much to help the mood of the room as Donatello smirks.
"Sounds like you had a nice night."
Raph slams his head against the table—Donnie picks his mug up as his head goes down—as a blush covers his face, folding his arms over it to try to hide more.
"He was so gentle," the shorter gushes, causing his taller brother to laugh a bit. "He held my hand and kept me close, and someone was playing this really sappy love song in the park while we were out there," and he punctuates his rambling with a mix of a groan and a sigh as he picks his head back up to stare off into the distance again.
“It was perfect.”
“Sounds it,” Donnie retorts with a light snicker. Comfortable silence falls upon them, Donnie picking his book back up and taking a sip of his tea.
"How was yours?"
The question startles him a moment, choking slightly on a sip of tea before removing the mug from his lips and marking his page again. A blush creeps across Donnie's face thinking about April being a little closer to him than usual.
"Nothing special," he admits, looking at the floor rather than the wall. While he's distracted, Raph takes the opportunity to steal the mug from his brother to take a sip before putting it back—green tea with lemon, he concludes the flavor.
"Really?" the hothead challenges, smirking as his brother's blush grows slightly.
"Yeah," comes the shaky reply, Donnie beginning to fidget with his hands, "just...April was standing a little closer than she usually does—leaning on me, touching my hands—"
"You're sure it wasn't an accident?"
"Don't be mean, Raphael."
Said brother snorts another laugh, taking another sip from the genius' mug. Donnie sees him this time, though doesn't feel a need to stop him.
"Any news on whether or not she likes you, though?" Raph inquires, placing the mug back down. Donnie merely shakes his head with a solemn sigh.
"No. I didn't want to ask, or make any hints—I really don't wanna mess this friendship up."
Raph looks off again while he mulls over his brother's words. After a moment or two, he gets an idea.
"How about we go through with this anyway? If she says no, we just leave it at that."
Donatello rolls his eyes with a slight scoff.
"Even Michelangelo could've thought of that."
"Yeah," Raph retorts, "but when a machine doesn't give you the result you want, you can toy with it until it does. You can't do that with people."
"I don't—!"
"You do," the hothead interrupts, grabbing the tea that now sits between the two. "I know you don't mean anything by it, it's just a thing you do—probably because you're so used to working with machines."
Donnie's rendered speechless as his older brother takes another sip. He hates, more than anything, that he's wrong like that; at least it's something to grow and learn from, now that it's out in the open.
"So," says Raph suddenly, disturbing his brother's internal crisis, "we teach you to get your shell together to actually tell her, and go from there."
There's something in his eyes that Donnie can't place a finger on, though isn't unfamiliar, and he feels like it's a silent reminder that he's not alone in this. Raphael has his fist outstretched above the table with a soft smirk gracing his features, and he smiles back at his older brother as he bumps his fist with his own.
"Sounds like a plan, older brother," Donnie confirms, picking his book back up. This time, when the other reaches for his tea mug, the genius smacks his hand away.
"Go get your own tea!"
~*~
The following day, April joins Donnie on the couch as soon as she walks in while Casey scours his bag before pulling out a pair of headphones and plugging them into his phone.
"You have to hear this song, dude," says Casey to Raph before anything else, handing the headphones to the turtle before scrolling through his phone. They're already on the terrapin's head by the time the song is pulled up, and Casey grabs his hand to lead him out of the room as he presses play; his shorter counterpart tries hiding his face from his brother and their friend as a blush rises to his cheeks. April, who'd been watching their whole interaction, can't help but smile while she watches them leave. It's only then does Donnie realize she hadn't been paying attention to what he'd been saying, feeling a slight surge of jealousy he tries to ignore.
"What're you smiling at?"
Luck is on his side at the fact that the question didn't sound as bitter as he was expecting. The redhead nods after the pair, watching them until they're out of sight.
"Raph," she responds bluntly, smile never fading as she turns to the brainiac. "I've never seen any of your tails wag before. Do you all do that?"
Don tries to pretend his face isn't heating up as he rubs the back of his neck with an awkward grin.
"Yeah," he states with a slight chuckle. "It's not too often, though—except for Mikey, who's just excitable enough it could happen whenever."
April hums contemplatively, turning her head back to where Raph and Casey were just standing. After a moment or so of the lull in their conversation, she turns her full attention back to the genius in front of her.
"There's a project you wanted to tell me about, isn't there?"
That's the only thing needed to pick up Donatello's enthusiasm again, grinning wide as he stands and begins rambling. As he leads her to the lab, he's unaware of her staring at his wagging tail the entire way there.
Outside, Raph hands the headphones back to Casey as he tries to hide his blush.
"Good song," he says dumbly, not too sure what else to say. It's not every day that his best friend, the guy he's got a huge crush on, plays a love song that matches them perfectly and only tells him he'd like it.
"Isn't it?" the other says excitedly, seemingly ignoring the lame response from his friend. "One of my friends at school showed it to me, and I just had to show you."
"You mean one of your teammates?" Raph teases with a playful smirk, to which Casey sticks his tongue out at him immaturely.
"Doesn't matter," the hockey player grumbles childishly, pouting a little. "Same thing."
"Whatever you say, Jones," the shorter chuckles. "Whoever it is, they have good taste."
"Yeah," Casey chuckles back, leading to a comfortable silence between them for a minute or so.
Raph is about to say something else, turning to face his friend again, and apparently Casey as well, which only then did the turtle realize how close they're sitting.
Their lips are maybe an inch or two away from each other, and whatever either had to say died upon them.
Both feel their breath hitch in their throats, staring the the other's lips as their minds and hearts race a mile a minute trying to put any of their million thoughts into a coherent sentence and try to figure out what's happening - whether they make a first move or stay where they are and not risk anything.
Unfortunately, Casey sends every one of his neurons on break as he snaps his own trance from his friend's mouth to look him in the eye.
"How about a movie?"
.+.
Donnie and April have been sitting in near silence the entire time they've been in the lab.
While the redhead finds it comfortable, it's the opposite to the terrapin's internal screaming.
You've got to say something, the genius scolds himself. At least try to play it cool.
"So," he starts lamely, going against his own brain, "how's school?"
He didn't even have an idea what to say—he'd doomed himself just by opening his mouth. She seems unfazed, shrugging solemnly as she keeps her eyes on the project in front of them.
"Awkward," she replies just as solemnly. "With Casey and everything, it—I didn't even really wanna face him. I don't think he wanted to see me, either."
Donnie can't help but snort, causing a small grin out of the girl as well.
"I'd imagine," he says before thinking. "Getting rejected sucks."
April glances at him then, grin turning to a smirk.
"You've been rejected before?"
"If we wanna get technical," and suddenly he sounds snarky, defensive, even as he wants to keep the lighthearted tone and his voice feels out of his control, "we all have. You did the first time you saw us. That's really the main reason we live down here in the first place—us being rejected by society can mean dire consequences. Splinter can't afford that when we're all he has left."
With her smile gone, and, miraculously, understanding that he's trying to keep the tone, she shrugs nonchalantly.
"You make a fair point."
Silence falls between them again, and Donnie feels worse for opening his mouth than when he didn't. Furthermore, now the atmosphere is tense for both parties rather than just one. Donatello spends the next few minutes beating himself up for it, then turns to April to apologize for—well, speaking, he supposes. When he looks at her, however, she's already looking at him in a way he's all too familiar with, just not on her face. He swallows hard, and his mouth is once again moving faster than his brain.
"Why are you looking at me like that?"
The ginger raises an eyebrow as she cocks her head. She didn't realize she was looking at him a particular way.
"Like what?"
He swallows hard again, throat dry as a desert and it's too late now to take it back.
"Like you want me."
April's face softens as Donnie's doesn't change, his voice soft and almost melancholy and it sort of breaks the girl's heart. She can't help but feel that he just took a huge risk, and maybe he did, and now her lack of answer as the wheels turn in her head make this feel so much bigger than it did just minutes ago—
Suddenly, they hear Raph and Casey's loud "play" arguing from the lair entrance, both instinctually rolling their eyes at their obnoxiousness. They glance at the door simultaneously, then share a look, one they both understood it's time to put the project away before the other two accidentally cause a disaster. They'll talk later, they silently agree. As the other pair gets closer, they can hear more of what they're saying.
"All I said is that it was cute!" Casey exclaims, sounding somewhat amused.
"And I told you to shut it, Jones!" Raph retorts, clearly aggravated. "There's no need to talk about it!"
Quiet falls as Donnie and April head towards the lab door, soft footsteps replacing the other's voices for a second or so. The door opens, and they see Casey make his final step right in front of Raph. Immediately, they freeze, now feeling like this is something they're not supposed to see.
"You gonna make me?"
Casey's voice is soft, teasing, and he has a Cheshire Cat grin on his face while Raph's is a nice shade of rouge by now. They watch training instincts kick into the shorter turtle instantly, and he roundhouse kicks the hockey player in the chest, sending him flying half across the lair.
Donnie immediately starts howling with laughter, grabbing his stomach and leaning back as April bites her lip to stifle hers, trying to appear more concerned than she is. He plays hockey, he's faced worse than this, and that doesn't change that he got slammed into concrete and is hurt either way.
"What'd you do that for?" she called over Donnie's laughing fit, which is loud enough she has to yell over it.
"I was defending myself!" the other responds in a panic, just as loud. "He dared me to shut him up!"
"He didn't mean to attack him!" April shouts back. In her peripheral vision, she sees Casey slowly sit up, grabbing his head.
Beside her, the scientist is now doubled over from laughing so hard, kneeling on the ground with a hand still pressed his plastron. Raph almost fears he's going to actually throw up from his own laughter, which is now reduced to snorting giggles.
"What were you two arguing over, anyway?" the girl continues after the slight lull, allowing Casey to regain his composure as Donnie calms down a bit further.
Raph turns his head away slightly as he feels his face heat up, going to help Casey up off the floor as the other teen smirks.
"Nothing," Raph says quickly, hiding his face closer to the other's chest as he's hauled from the floor.
"He's embarrassed I saw his tail wagging," Casey informs, leaning on the shorter turtle beside him. Said turtle's face is as red as his mask, his temper picking up again as he glares at his friend.
"Shut up about it!"
"It's cute!" Casey argues, smile never fading. "Besides, April asked! Blame her!"
"Alright," the redhead interrupts, as much as she agrees with the other human's statement, "enough. We'll drop it—it's not worth the energy tonight."
Casey smirks down at Raph again, who has his head turned away while his blush fades.
"Anyway," says the hockey player, picking his weight off the turtle next to him while keeping a hand on his shoulder for balance, "we're gonna watch something if you two are interested."
The two previously in the lab look to each other, silently conveying: "I will if you will."
"Sure," they say in sync as they look back to the other duo. Both bite back a smirk at themselves.
Casey lets go of Raph entirely, albeit still being a little unsteady. He leads the small group to the couch, both reds watching him cautiously as they see him trying not to stumble.
~*~
Everyone fell asleep at varying points throughout the movie, and April and Donnie are the firsts to wake up around ten o'clock.
April gets up first, having fell asleep on Donnie's shoulder and sees him still sleeping sitting up. Beside him is Raph, with Casey lying in his lap. Given the time, she immediately starts packing her bag—all too happy now that it's a Friday and she can do homework tomorrow—to get ready to go home. Donnie awakes seconds after she gets up, the sudden cold on his shoulder from the lack of heat upon him.
"Leaving already?" he croaks, voice groggy with sleep.
The redhead smirks at him as she finishes packing, then shows him the time on her phone.
"It is late, Don."
He squints at the screen, leaning closer to see it better.
"So it is."
She giggles at him, pocketing her phone and swinging her bag over her shoulder, quietly bidding him a goodnight as she approaches the exit. Before she leaves, right after hearing the scientist return her wish goodnight, she pauses, figuring now can be a good time to chat with the other privately.
"Actually," she says, seeing his brown eyes light up slightly as she turns back towards him, "I wanted to ask you something real quick."
The terrapin swallows hard as he stands up. Not knowing someone's intentions is the worst feeling.
"Sure," he says anyway, making his way beside her. "May I walk you home?"
The wide smile and head gesture to follow her is the only response the turtle receives.
They're a little deeper in the sewers, making sure to be out of earshot of the lair, when April speaks again.
"Are you okay?"
Donnie can't hide his shock at the question. That's not at all what he expected her to say off the bat.
"Yeah," he says questioningly, surprise etched in every feature of his face. "Why?"
The redhead shrugs.
"Maybe I've just been more in my head today. I just can't help but feel you've also been a little more...off today."
They now arrive to the sewer cover, Donatello leading the way to push it off and help the other up.
"Don," she continues when on the surface, "I...it took me maybe too long to realize, and I'm sorry for that, so...."
She can't quite figure out how to phrase what she wants to say, stopping when they make it to the rooftop.
"You can talk to me," she continues, turning to face him, "whatever it is. I'm listening."
Donnie feels his heart stop and his face turn pale. He feels like he's just walked into a trap, like if he does say whatever he wants to that she'll punch him in the face and say she never wants to see him again.
"I don't think I can," he whispers, fear hitting him hard. April doesn't back down, however, stepping closer to him and grabbing his chin lightly to have his eyes meet hers.
"Please," she whispers softer, seeing tears well up in the other's eyes, "say it."
It seems to be enough of a pep talk, Donnie trying to bite back tears either way as he feels remotely safe now.
"I like you, April," he spits out before allowing himself time to chicken out. "Like, a lot, and I don't want to ruin the friendship you and I developed and the relationship you have with my brothers and—"
Soft lips are against his before he could even register, and his shock is subsided for just enough time to kiss back for a mere second.
April's smile is brighter than the moon above them, and she feels the same about his dopey, gap-toothed grin in return. Within the half hour, he brings her home with them continuing to chat and giggle with each other, and she gives him a peck on the cheek when bidding him goodnight again. Donnie finds himself unable to sleep later just thinking about the night.
Around two hours later, about midnight, Casey wakes up, who quickly realizes his head is lying on someone's lap—likely Raph, as he's the only person next to him, and he can feel his legs dangling over the arm of the couch.
His head feels bare, meaning his bandana is somewhere not where it usually is, and he can feel three thick fingers running through his hair.
He remains silent with his eyes closed, trying to keep the impression that he's asleep. Apparently, there isn't much you can keep from a ninja.
"How're you feeling?" the turtle asks softly, fingers still threading through raven hair.
"Better 'an before," Casey grumbles, still half asleep. He thinks he recalls one of the brothers mentioning how breathing patterns change during unconsciousness, and maybe that's how his friend realized he's awake. He'll have to ask him about it later.
"How long have you been awake?" he continues, opening his eyes now to meet Raph's gaze.
He shrugs, adjusting the hand not in Casey's hair to hold his head up from the cushion behind him.
"Maybe an hour or so. Don had just gotten home—said he walked April home."
He leaves out the part of his wolf-eating grin and everything his brother told him about the night, knowing Casey still has feelings for the girl.
"Brought her home?" the human panics slightly, sitting up quickly as Raph removes his hand from his head. "What time is it?"
"Late, I guess," is the nonchalant answer, Raph pulling his phone out to get an exact answer. "Seven after midnight."
"Shoot," Casey hisses, dramatically flopping back down on his friend. "Angel's gonna have a cow. She always stays up waiting for me when I'm out past ten."
Raph can't help but smirk at the other's reaction.
"Doesn't seem important enough for you to move."
"I'm comfy," Casey whines, stretching out the last vowel and resulting in laughter from the shorter. A lull in conversation falls between them, and Casey feels filter still failing to work as Raph's facial expression remains the same.
"Y'know," he says suddenly, "no one's ever looked at me the way that you do."
The turtles breath hitches in his throat, his face flushing. Casey smirks despite his embarrassment; he's never been so shy around a guy—around Raph—before.
"Shut up, Jones," the other pouts, turning away from him. Unexpected to the turtle, Casey tries to keep his composure, putting a hand on the back of his head and gently bringing him down to a mere inch above his own.
"Or what?" he teases, smirk growing with the other's blush. Raph finds himself torn, if he should risk it all or pull away and pick on him to further protect himself. As he's staring between his eyes and his lips, Casey makes the decision for him, releasing his head and standing up.
"Well," Casey says nonchalantly, trying to hide his smirk, I should get home. Angel's gonna kill me."
Just as he's expecting, Raph stares at him wide-eyed and completely flushed. The hockey player swings his bag over his shoulder, hiding his smirk and disguises it as a genuine smile as he reaches the exit, and he turns around to bid the other a goodnight.
"Case," Raph calls before he can even get another breath in.
Turning around as planned, he sees the shorter now standing, staring at him as his chest heaves in a deep inhale. He steps forward, walking quickly towards him and grabs his shirt in both fists to yank him down in a kiss.
Casey smirks into it, cupping the other's face in both hands and feeling his friend swoon a little.
They pull away, both now sporting sincere smiles. Before they release each other, Casey gives him a light peck with Raph's grip lessening on his shirt.
"Goodnight, Red," he says softly, and Raph can almost swear he could see stars in his eyes.
Hey btw the scene Raph kicks Casey is inspired by this one + the song at the start is "I Think We're Alone Now" by Billie Joe Armstrong
Are there any Raph/Casey fics where Raph goes to Don for help and Don's like " Yo, I can get Casey off April if I help you" and shenanigans ensue
#casey x raph#raph x casey#rasey#april x donnie#donnie x april#apritello#fanfic wingmen#tj writes#2012 rasey#2012 apritello
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