#winter x turtle x blue

[sombrathedragon]

Whats your fav ships/rarepairs?

Oooo okay !!

I honestly love most ships (except the incest and pedophilic ones) but here are some of my favorites !!

I LOVE WINTER X TURTLE X BLUE (or wintur blue as I call it) I also love it separately (winter x turtle, winter x blue, blue x turtle)

@yellow-computer-mouse introduced me to some new ships: Tsunami and Io (technically this one was @/wofconfessionsblog) Moon x Lynx, and swordtail x riptide !! :D

Even though I don’t talk about it much, Mangrove x Orchid holds a very special place in my heart <3

And that’s about it :)

[yellow-computer-mouse]

[yellow-computer-mouse]

WinTur Blue!!! I think they'd go on walks and throw stones into rivers :)

Reblog with your fave WoF rarepair + their ship dynamic!

I mean like the craziest ones you have. (Nothing like illegal or creepy but other than that, go wild.)

[maypl-syrup]

Wof shipping requests from over on insta Doing this made me realize I haven't drawn a large amount of canon characters in forever (or like ever)

I am very proud of all of these, I think my favorites are fathom and indigo, and thorn and stonemover

In order: (top to bottom, left to right)

Fathom x Indigo Winter x Qibli x Moonwatcher Blue x Cricket Sundew x Willow Clay x Peril Thorn x Stonemover Turtle x Kinkajou

[xaviergalatis]

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

More of my rarepairs.

Sundew x Willow x Tsunami x Peril

Sundew x Peril

Umber x Pineapple x Jambu

Umber x Hailstorm

Luna x Kinkajou

Kinkajou x Winter

Qibli x Blue

Blue x Turtle

.

[yorshie]

Burnt Out

Bayverse Leo x Fem reader - Part 1

Part two

summary: SFW, After confessing your feelings for the Leader in Blue, he makes a decision that challenges your relationship with all four turtles. (warnings for relationship based arguments, yelling, and an altercation with some drunken men) set in 2023 so turtles are 24-25

You paused on the stoop to the employee’s entrance, hand dipping automatically to palm your phone in your coat’s pocket. It was dark, far darker than you expected. You gave yourself a little shake at the instinctual hesitation, annoyed that you didn’t factor in how fast night fell in the winter before taking this last-second shift.

But you needed the money, and walking at night had never been a problem before… well, before you could always count on someone waiting for you, because you always let someone know your schedule. But now-

You huffed, annoyance seeping deeper as you weighed your options.

You didn’t necessarily feel unsafe, walking home at night but… 

Maybe it was always hearing about the crimes being committed and thwarted through your friends’ grapevine, but something about being alone seemed a little more ominous tonight.

You pulled out your phone, tapped the device awake, and pondered the short list of contacts on your favorited screen.

April was working. Casey was on an away trip, training for his new promotion. Vern was-

Vern was a no go. 

You were stalling. You knew you were, but you still grimaced, bit your lip as you read over the last four names. They should’ve been your first choice, would have been your first choice, if things didn’t still feel stilted whenever you thought about him.

You purposefully skipped over the first name. Shuddered  away from the echo of shame and the low pang of sadness that came with the memory of your last conversation, and went stubbornly to the next option.

Donnie was probably working on the shell-raiser. Last time you’d called Raph, he’d been in the background while the red brother had been tinkering with his motorcycle. You could clearly recall not only his excitement, but the non-stop barrage of information he was dumping into the conversation he’d butted into, ecstatic about some new fangled what-cha-ma-call-its and doo-hickey-ma-things that he was apparently installing. 

So, no on the Donatello front.

Raphael was in the ha’shi, which meant no phones. He’d taken the time to let you know at least, earlier in the day, and while you had hinted for a reason why, he kept whatever he’d done silent. Getting sent to the ha’shi wasn’t new, but it was odd that only one brother was being punished, and usually Raph would at least give you an overview on who was to blame for the sentence.

Which left Mikey. You knew he would make time for you, he always did, but it still felt like running away. Still felt like you were creating- being- a problem. Your finger hovered over his name, letting your lip escape your teeth before you breathed out and hit the button. 

It rang twice before he answered, singing the last few words of your personalized ringtone before breaking off to greet you, “well heeeeellllloooo, babycakes! What are you up to on this fine evening?”

You smiled despite yourself, caught up in the shine that glinted off him even over the phone, and took a step away from the stoop, heels clicking in time with your words. “Hey Mikey, not much, just wanted to talk while I walked home from work.”

He made some low sound at that, half confirmation and half question. “Didn’t know you were working a late shift tonight- Need me to come get you? I can give you a lift home?”

You shook you head, already at the corner, mentally counting down the streets until you were home. “Naw, it’s alright, just- will you talk to me for a bit?”

“Sure thing, babes. I always got time for you.” He sounded like he was parked in front of the tv. You could faintly hear the rolling music of that new game he had gotten, likely paused while he entertained you. Beyond that however, it sounded like the Lair was relatively silent, and you felt a stab of curiosity if he was listening in to the conversation.

Best not think about that.

“Tell me what’s been going on? Has Don got the shell-raiser up and running?” You asked to distract yourself.

“Dude, he’s made the biggest mess in the garage. It’s a good thing sensei never goes out there, because he’d have a conniption over it. Leo’s already had to remind him to clean up twice.” 

You gave an annoyed hum, heart spiking at the mention of the someone, but you squashed the feeling, “yea, bet Dee just let that go in one ear and out the other.” 

Mikey snorted. “You know it. And now that Leo and Raph are both in the ha’shi, Donnie’s got free-”

“Hang on,” you interrupted him, foot scuffing the sidewalk as you jerked to a stop. “Le-They’re both… in the ha'shi?” That- that made it sound like they were fighting again.

But- surely Raph would have mentioned tension with his brother? Between you and April, it seemed like at least one of you knew when the two were butting heads, and as far as you knew it’d been quiet on that front.

I… guess not?

“Uh… Yeah?” Mikey sounded a little further away, like he was looking at the phone instead of speaking directly into it. You got the distinct impression he felt he had said too much, and hurried to try to get a read before he could clam up:

“Raph wouldn’t- he didn’t say-”

“Yeah, neither of them are in the mood to explain much.” That didn’t sound like something Mikey would normally say, and you were about to push him on that, make him explain, when suddenly the hair on the back of your neck stood straight up, and you stiffened.

“Um.”

Mikey sensed the change immediately. “Woah, what’s up, angel? You ok?”

“Um.” You repeated the word, fighting the urge to glance around, wincing as you heard a commotion at the end of the street. A small group of drunken men spilled out from a bar, and normally it wouldn’t be cause for alarm-

But they’d straightened at the sight of you, had gone from stumbling and leaning against one another to a pointed fixation that did not bode well.

You could hear Mikey on the other line as you abruptly turned and crossed the street, fighting to blend in and not draw anymore attention to yourself. You heard a clatter over the phone, something yelled, then Donnie was on the line, voice clipped high and tight:

“Where are you?”

“Um.” You repeated the word for the third time, voice tightening and pitching up, trying to make out the street sign at the corner, but it was too dark, and you were too panicked, opting to speed walk past instead of slowing. The lights of passing cars and the blinking neon hum of signs melded together, overlayed with the drunken whoop not far behind you. 

More clatter over the phone, the distinct sound of something being knocked over followed by a frazzled cuss word. You could tell Donnie still had the phone, because he was breathing heavily into the speaker, too preoccupied to regulate his breaths in what you assumed was a mad dash to his computer.

You turned a corner, dodged across another street, flinching as a rock skipped past your ankles, obviously thrown. You knew now, without a doubt, that you were being pursued.

You could hear the click clack click clack of Donnie’s keyboard, and your phone chirped in your hand, informing you he was pinging your location. Your relief was short lived however, when a heavy arm looped over your neck.

You gasped, feeling the bite of whatever buckle was on the side cut into your cheek, and the man next to you drew you upright, until your spine protested at the movement.

“Babes, take the next right, we’re on our way.” Mikey at the phone again, but you could only whimper, hoping he understood.

A second man took your phone, terminated the call, and you had half a beat to wonder how you hadn’t heard them get closer, loud as they were being now, carousing and laughing as though you were a part of their group. 

You couldn’t see your phone anymore, but the tight hold on the hand that had been holding onto it kept you from looking too much. A touch low on your back made you up the number of people surrounding you, as the man with your head still pulled close to him jerked his head into your space, tone slurring:

“Hey beautiful, how ‘bout we buy you a drink?”

You didn’t bother replying. You dug your nails down into the meat of the hand holding your own, while simultaneously biting into the jacket pressed against your face, determined to put up a fight.

Hindsight was flashing in your mind’s eye next to the scant self-defense information you’d let Leo drill into your head. You hadn’t taken the lessons very seriously, too preoccupied with keeping your budding feelings under leash. His calm tone washed over you now, but the words were garbled, proof you’d been too busy staring at him to pay attention.

Always create space, if you can.

You rocked a foot backwards, seesawing in their grip, dropping low and jabbing an elbow to the side in order to create some space. You counted your blessings that your coat was unzipped, as you pulled your arms through the holes, dropping your purse in the process. 

Forget your purse/bag, it’s not more important than you.

Only one man still held on, but you realized halfway through pulling your clasped hands through your bulky coat that you were, in fact, holding onto him. You let go at the revelation, pushed your coat into his face, and pivoted, taking off in a run down the street. 

If you can get away, do so. Fighting is a last re-

A hard grip on your arm brought your internal dialogue short. You were moving too fast to stop, barely bringing your hands up in time to stop from slamming head first into the wall you were pivoting towards. Your palms scraped against the worn brick, and you hissed at the pain. 

The three were ringed around the opening to the alley, and you almost flinched at the echo of another night, another time you had to be rescued.

“You really don’t want to do this.” You promised them, voice breathless, and the closest one laughed.

“All we wanted to do was buy you a drink, but I guess you’re too good for-”

His words were cut off, something big and bulky dropping from the roof to land between you and your attackers. He hit the concrete with a low thud, and you sagged in relief, taking in the chipped blue paint across the shell suddenly facing you.

Slowly, Leo straightened, and the growl coming from him rattled your bones, the sound all but drowning out the thumps of the other brothers cutting off the mens’ escape.

“I think there’s been a misunderstanding here.” His voice was low, dangerous, and you almost shivered in sympathy for what was about to happen. “When a lady says no, she means no.”

You covered your eyes, knowing it wasn’t going to be pretty, having no stomach to watch the men be apprehended. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was bad enough, though you were relieved to not hear the hiss of steel being drawn. 

You stayed against the wall, counting to drown out the wait, until a soft hand touched your arm, and you dropped your arm. 

Mikey peered back at you, concern crowding his sky blue eyes. “Hey, babes. You ok?” 

You shot to him, hitting his plastron hard, pulling a puff of air from him before his arms wrapped around you. You shuddered against him. He held you, one hand smoothing up and down your back in a rhythmic motion as he cooed into your hair:

“Hey, you’re ok, you’re alright, don’t cry-”

It took you a few moments to become aware of your surroundings, sounds filtering back in slowly. Donnie was on his hologram, co-ordinating pick up with police, hands moving fast as he tracked over vitals and communications. You became so dizzy at the small glance towards the scrolling data that you burrowed back into Mikey’s chest before another noise pulled you back up.

Raph was cursing low under his breath, sulky and frustrated. He looked up from where he was securing the men to a heavy metal dumpster, and something complicated chased over his expression. You pulled in a breath, knowing you were crying, knowing he hated it when you did, but his mouth compressed, eyes all but darting to the side as though begging you to follow.

Your eyes flitted in the direction he indicated, caught on the sway of swords over shoulders, and you stubbornly returned to the red banded brother. You knew your face was pale, set in a scowl, but he matched it, jerking his chin at you in clear reprimand.

You took in a deep breath, turned away, clung to Mikey as though that would dismiss the problem. But the problem was still growling, the sound low and ominous, a rumble at the bottom of your auditory register that wouldn’t let you settle, that kept you on edge.

It was getting closer, and you felt your shoulders tighten, Mikey’s hands coming up to give them a squeeze before he shifted you back.

“Are you alright?” Came the question, and you turned to stare at Leo's plastron, watched it rise and fall underneath the straps of his harness. The little camera across his chest winked at you, and you reminded yourself that Donnie recorded everything.

“I’m fine.” You whispered the answer, conscious Mikey was moving away, giving you space. The tightness in your shoulders doubled as Leo swayed closer.

Apparently your answer wasn’t good enough, because a strong hand cupped your cheek, tilted your head back until you met narrowed blue eyes, crystal clear and angry as he smoothed a digit over the imprinted divot on your cheekbone.

Leo’s other hand engulfed on of  your wrists, held it upwards to take in the scraped skin, and with his head bent over your hand you had a vivid flashback to the last time you two had talked.

His words from then buzzed in your ears, professional and precise, calm and confident in his verdict. Faced now with that same bowed position, an echo of that nauseous feeling bubbled up, and you closed your hand without thinking.

Leo looked up, eyes locking on your own, and whatever he saw ticked the frown deeper across his face. His hands lingered, his eyes catalogued, and you saw the exact moment his need for control won whatever silent argument he was having.

“Mind telling me what happened?” He dropped your hand, stood to his full height, and you felt the retreat as keenly as you did the last time, the hand at your cheek suddenly cold.

“Yes.” You answered, tugged your face from his grip, watched as the appendage fisted in mid air before he let it drop to thump against his thigh twice. 

“Why’d you hang up?” He tried again, and you relaxed a little in the face of a question you had the patience to answer.

“They took my phone.” You gestured the mime with your hand and he jutted his chin towards Raph, silently ordering him to preform a pat down and find the stolen device. 

You lifted that same hand to your temple, feeling the beginnings of a stress headache start. His hand raised in tandem, fingers gliding against yours before you pulled your whole head away with a jerk. 

That growl spiked with the movement, and you saw him stiffen, hand falling once again.

You sidestepped to face him, squinting as the sound didn’t dissipate. “L- Are you growling?”

He blinked, surprised for half a beat, before his fist pressed to his plastron, and you watched in real time as he processed something. The growling dropped off, a bare thrum of sound, until he took a deep breath and seemingly wrestled it back under control.

You watched the entire time with wide eyes, but when you went to ask what the hell that was he beat you to the punch:

“We’ll take you back to the lair, let Donnie patch you up-”

“I’m literally three streets from my apartment.” You interrupted him, conscious that it was something you would normally never do, but he only turned expectantly towards you, eye ridge up in a firm contradiction. 

And anger flared up at the I know better clear in his eyes. You admired his ability to command attention, to lead his brothers, but the order in his gaze rankled up your spine in such a way that you couldn’t contain your next words.

You jabbed a finger at him, before turning it to sweep up and down your person. “You don’t call the shots for me, buster.” Defiance, words unspoken: You made it clear you didn’t want responsibility for me.

That growl kickstarted up again, though this time he seemed aware of the noise, snout curling back over his teeth before he forced his lips flat.

A hand appeared at your back, Raph softly pushing you to the side and away from Leo. “C’mon, sweetheart, just come hang out for a bit. Let Don fuss over you, let us call in pizza. I’ll even carry you.”

“I’ll carry her.” Leo interjected, and you sensed a different tension in the quiet that followed, silence thick enough that you stepped back all on your own.

The two brothers were clearly not getting along, and the fact made you even more wary of going with them. “I’m not going if you two are going to be at each other’s throats.”

Leo jutted his chin towards his brother, clearly a challenge, and you watched as Raph scoffed, held his gaze for a long minute before letting his gaze slide to the side in acceptance.

Leo tilted his chin up. “Move out, Raphael,” He ordered, swinging his head toward you expectantly, hand held out in what would have been an instinctual move to scoop you up a month ago.

“Mikey can carry me.” You said it low to him, kept your voice calm and even, as you passed his outstretched hand. The last thing you needed right now was his arms around you, and he was being weirdly territorial. 

Maybe it was just to get under Raph’s skin. Maybe it was his odd way of trying to make up for the distance he’d imposed. Either way, you really weren’t in the mood. 

[rallentando1011]

about donnie making fun of Rom coms. What happens if s/o like them, but in a way where they watch them to make fun of them and it makes them and Donnie reflect on their own relationship without meaning too? 😂 . “It’s so bad. This love triangle. I gotta see how this trainwreck ends! All 3 are terrible and deserve each other”. “Geez I would hate that if a guy did that to me”. “Oh! He deserves better”. S/o does openly swoon over really sweet gestures sometimes though. “Oh. He gave her a library and fixed it up 😭 “.

The song is Nothing - Bruno Major, it does mention alcohol in like one line as well as making out but those are NOT in the story at all - just wanted to preface this with that (thanks for the request btw! I am working on all of them still I promise-)

Nothing

(rise Donnie x gn reader)

“Track suits and red wine

Movies for two

We'll take off our phones

And we'll turn off our shoes”

The evening opened at the lair.

A breezy night, the wind feather-light and warm, the sky had been dim and earth damp with a fresh rain, the frigid conditions of winter thawing into a complacent spring.

Below the concrete confines of the sewers, the weather was just as drippy, the continuous drips and drops of water trickling with a postnasal quality, drumming peacefully throughout the lair.

A dreary morning had bled into a dreary day had bled into a now dreary evening. With the dispelling weather, you had found it drudgery to even perform basic tasks like getting out of bed and dressing yourself and eating. But you had to. And you did.

After getting through the necessities and chores of the day, you had bound to the lair, renewed from your climatory blues with the expectation of good company and no obligations. Sounded good to you.

What you hadn’t anticipated was walking into the lab to see your “company” sitting, hunched over his desk, busy at work, with webcore music playing over the speakers and a rom-com, of all things, playing on his PC.

“Psh,” you half-laughed, the energy behind your amusement not completely convincing. You worked your way beside him and leaned against his desk. “What’s going on here?”

“Oh,” Donnie, just the man you’d been looking for, startled and slowly, as if trying to avoid detection, moved a hand to shut his screen. “Hey, I didn’t see you there.”

Before the computer screen could shut, you nudged it back up. “You like these movies?”

Donnie paled, sitting up straighter, lips pressing into a flat line. “Absolutely not. They’re just good background noise.”

You hummed. If his posture and lack of alertness was anything to go off of, he’d been at this a while. He could use some R & R, and honestly, you wouldn’t oppose.

“Well, in that case, would you like to watch some ‘background noise’ with me?”

He slumped back down in his chair and looked at you blankly. “I am quite obviously in the middle of something. I think we both already know the answer to that.”

“And how long have you been at that?”

There it was: guilt.

You nudged his shoulder, flashing a grin at him. “Come on. We’re getting snacks and taking a well earned break.”

“But-”

“No sir, none of that. We’re going. Projector room. Now.”

“But-”

“First one there chooses the movie.”

That impetus was enough to spur both of you into motion.

“We'll play Nintendo

Though I always lose

'Cause you'll watch the TV

While I'm watching you

There's not many people

I'd honestly say

I don't mind losing to

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

Unsurprisingly, he beat you to the projector room. Sure, he was a genetically enhanced mutant turtle and the odds were stacked heavily against you from the get go, but you were still salty about losing your own bet.

Not as salty as you were about his choice of “movie” not being a movie, instead being playing Super Smash Bros.

And especially not as salty as you were about getting irrevocably obliterated.

Round after round of the game, you had been infuriatingly greeted with screen after screen declaring your loss and all but screaming how terribly you sucked. Normally, you got the one up on him at least once, but with how drowsy your motor function was today, not to mention how you kept getting caught up in how invested he was but that was irrelevant, the game was not gaming.

Furthermore, you tried to pin your inopportune streak on S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N., who had taken up residence on your lap after retrieving your and Donnie’s snacks and drinks of choice from the kitchen, but Donnie had disproven that theory. By holding his controller higher to simulate the space the drone took up and proceeding to desecrate you again.

You groaned and slumped down the couch as he once again laughed victoriously, boisterously. Seriously, his ego needed to be humbled.

“Another round,” you demanded, half-dead on the couch. “I got, uh, distracted.”

Donnie halted his gloating, tilted his head down at you and the little drone, though the smug grin had yet to clear his face.

You knew what was next, probably your favorite and least favorite part of your dynamic - banter.

“I know you’re only looking at me to have some semblance of an excuse to lose, but I’ll take that as a compliment of both my rugged good looks and superior gaming skills.”

You feigned injury with a hand over your heart. “Man, that is a harsh accusation. I am wounded. Mortally wounded.”

“Your Yoshi will be the wounded one after I annihilate you in this next round of Smash.”

“Oh, you are on.”

“Dumb conversations

We lose track of time

Have I told you lately

I'm grateful you're mine

We'll watch The Notebook

For the 17th time

I'll say ‘It's stupid’

Then you'll catch me crying”

After a few more times of crushing you in Smash, it apparently became boring. Either that or your pouting convinced him to hand the reins over to you and let you pick a movie.

Finally, you could relax.

Head on his shoulder, his arm around you, a plush blanket resting on your laps, a borderline unbearable romantic comedy on the projector, it was blissful.

“Hmm would you look at that?” you commented on one particular scene. You felt Donnie shift next to you, raising an ever so slightly judgmental eyebrow. “The love interest did something wrong and then compensated by making a library. And spending time with them. And apologizing.”

He stared at you.

You stared back. “Looks like someone could take notes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Donnie blinked, and you smiled.

“Oh, nothing.”

“We're not making out

On a boat in the rain

Or in a house I've painted blue

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

“I would die if you ever did that to me.” You shuddered at the absolutely foul scene unfolding on the television and sunk a little closer into his side, second hand embarrassment seeping into your bones. 

“Good connotation or bad connotation?” he pondered, all too genuinely. It made you want to gag.

“Good or bad?” you asked, incredulous. “Like, the worst connotation. I mean, if you showed up to my work like that I would actually spontaneously combust. Deceased. No hesitation.”

You plopped unceremoniously sideways onto his lap, the back of your hand dramatically resting on your forehead.

“That’s what spontaneous means,” he deadpanned, the arm that had been over your shoulder slowly slinking back to his side.

“I don’t need called out on my redundancy right now,” you jabbed an accusatory finger at him, looking up, “I just need you to promise to never do that.”

“Okay, okay,” he conceded with a content grin. “I’ll try not to show up to your work with some overly pedantic display of affection.”

You scowled.

“So shut all the windows

And lock all the doors

We're not looking for no one

Don't need nothing more

You'll bite my lip and

I'll want you more

Until we end up in a heap on the floor”

The room had grown dim, illuminated only by the faint blue on the projector screen. You blinked yourself awake from a half-asleep stupor as you realized the movie had come to a close. 

“Hey, are you still up?” you whispered groggily, noting his closed eyes and shallow breathing.

“Unfortunately yes.” His eyes peeled open begrudgingly.

“And you’re not working on anything?”

He seemed visibly more awake at that observation. “Huh. That is correct.”

“Hehe. I finally got you to be unproductive.” You poked his cheek jestingly, still lightheartedly.

“Yep. I concur - you got me.”

“And I finally got you to have a good time.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You sat up, incredulous. Sure, it hadn’t been an eventful night by any regard, but it had surely been enjoyable.

“Just that all of the characters are stupid,” he elaborated with a gesticulation of his hands. “Just- all of them are total dum-dums.”

“Well, yeah,” you agreed with a shrug. “That love triangle was destined to fail from the start. They’re all horrible people and deserve everything they got.”

“And watching that is enjoyable for you?”

“Yeah, it just makes me appreciative of what we have.”

Donnie paused, reflected at that. “Huh. That’s… an incredibly introspective view.”

“So, you enjoyed the movie?”

“Don’t push your luck.”

“You could be dancing on tabletops

Wearing high-heels

Drinking until the world

Spins like a wheel

But tonight your apartment

Had so much appeal

Who needs stars?

We've got a roof

But there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

Busy personalities beget busy schedules, and who would want to be anything but? If the choice is between being mundane or multifariously vibrant, isn’t the choice obvious?

Yet sometimes the hustle and bustle and pressure build up, workloads stack up, a devastating fatigue sets in. And the best thing to do together is absolutely nothing.

“No, there's nothing

Like doing nothing

With you”

[afreakingdork]

Soft Spot - Chapter 12

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Donnie has been gifted an incredible treat in this week's chapter art by @grumpytheunicorn 🤭

Rated: Explicit

Warnings/Tags: Romance, Established Relationship, Married Couple, Married Life, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Villain Donatello (TMNT), Love, POV Second Person, Babies, Pregnancy, AFAB reader, Vaginal Sex, Rough Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Happy Ending, Fertility Issues, Pregnant Sex, Pregnancy Kink, Reader-Insert, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Cum Eating, Turtle Noises (TMNT), I have a Biology Degree and I’m Using it, Menstruation, There WILL NOT be any Miscarriages

Synopsis: First comes love. Then comes marriage. Then comes the next step about as smooth as the others arrived. The baby-oriented sequel to Weak Spot.

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

“So then Jackie sends me a Slack screenshot of Tina asking if a blatant error on the file is wrong or not.”

“A mistake you made early on in your new position.”

“Exactly! So I immediately own up because why not and Jackie is like, ‘Why didn’t Tina fix it herself? It was obviously a mistake. Why even ask if it was wrong or not?’”

Donnie’s brows rose knowing what came next.

“So I get to say, ‘Tina has always been like that!’”

“The first to gossip in the new department.”

“We finally got one!” You lifted a commiserating fist and then tapped Donnie with it. “That dance to see who’s chill among my new team is so stressful. We’re all bound to hate upper management and each other so let’s just get it out of the way early.”

“Workplace politics I will never understand.” He covered your hand and then brought it down to his side to hold it.

“No, you just scare your work force into submission.”

Donnie gave a bare roll of his eye. “There’s respect as well.”

“Of the ones that haven’t shit themselves.” You snickered.

Donnie shrugged.

You let out a sigh. “Dang, lines really taking a bit.”

“Weather has finally improved.”

“Good point.” You looked up toward the sparsely dotted sky. “Winter never really let go of spring this year and it’s already almost summer…”

“What was the rodent’s prediction?”

You had to think for a moment and then laughed. “Punxsutawney Phil?!”

Donnie stared at you with a dull expression.

“Oh… What did he find out? I can’t remember now!”

You got your phone out to look it up.

“You ever wonder what it’d be like if he was a mutant? Like would Phil embrace it?”

Donnie chuffed.

“I bet he’d be more accurate. He’d be that region’s best meteorologist.” You shook your head at the answer. “’Punxsutawney Phil said we would have an early spring this year.’”

“Show me the table.” He leaned down over your shoulder.

You scrolled a bit. “Yellow is early and blue is six more weeks.”

Donnie hummed lightly. “Rarely early.”

“Right? I’m surprised.”

He reviewed the list a few seconds longer before flashing inward to nip at your ear.

You chomped down on a squeal and giggled away from him. “Hey!”

He churred where he was still bent over.

“Frisky with the weather…” You did a quick check to make sure no one was too annoyed before returning to him for a quick kiss.

He churred agreement.

“Your heat was delayed from the cold so are we thinking you’re gonna to start signaling soon?”

“Perhaps.” Donnie huffed. “Fickle season. A pain.”

“As fickle as the weather, that heat of yours.” You sang lightly.

He was amused enough and straightened to look out.

The line still hadn’t moved and you rolled your neck.

While you felt the pressure to come up with another topic, you were in no rush.

June’s weather was balmy and pleasant.

It felt like ages since you last enjoyed being outside.

After you got your food, you had already picked out a great place where you were going to lean against a wall and eat while bathed in the sun.

You could almost feel the warmth in your hand from the paper tray along with the rays caressing your cheeks.

You were drunk on a daydream when you heard a breathy, “Excuse me…”

You looked to see a heavily pregnant woman addressing the line and almost specifically you since she was right beside you.

“I’m fine.” She huffed out with irritation as if you were bothering her. “I’m just dizzy and I need a spotter.”

“Of course!” You blurted out before anyone else could.

The woman almost glared at you, but her gaze didn’t have enough focus. “Stay there.”

“S-sure…” You tried not to hover.

She took a deep breath that didn’t seem to make it into her body before she pivoted.

The woman in front of you hesitated to leap out to help.

The pregnant woman got her foot down hard and hoisted up against her belly before making a relatively safe line to the wall beside the door. There she stood for a single swaying second before she got her shoulders to the wall. With the tip of her body, she tucked her hands under her stomach for a little heft before she spread her legs out. It gave her a sturdy stance and she let her back press heavy into the brick to share the weight. “That’s the stuff…”

“We just keep an eye out?” You asked.

“Yeah, in case I pass out.” The pregnant woman groaned.

“You’ll pass out!?” A man behind Donnie piped up in horror.

“No!” She cracked one lid open. “I mean maybe, but don’t freak everyone out. I’m fine. It’s just hot.”

The woman in front of you shuffled.

“Stop it.” The pregnant woman zoned in on her. “I’m fine! Ugh, I hate this. I hate that it’s some delicacy thing. I’ll fuck you up, baby or not. I just need a second with this damn heat!”

“I thought the weather was nice.” The man behind Donnie tried to whisper to his companion.

“Hey, pal!” The pregnant woman shot upright with an enraged finger. “You wanna talk to my hormones?! Do you know how much more blood I got pumping through my veins right now!? Don’t fucking tell me it’s nice or not! I’m hot! I’m cold! I think I fucking know how much I-!”

For a single second she was dead silent.

You were in motion before the others.

Her pupils swam and she stumbled one step by the time you caught her shoulders.

“’M fine!” She slurred.

“You are.” You led her back to the wall.

“Pinched nerve. Still here. Dark.” She stunted out. “Walking sucks.”

“Yeah?” You followed along her arm to get her hand and press it to the cool brick.

She groped at it, garnering strength.

“Where were you walking to?” You tried.

She couldn’t snort, but she wheezed on a little breath. “Nunna business…”

“Not at all. Just making conversation. Helps you stay with us.” You moved away from where she had a grip on the wall and supported her other side.

She relented for a long moment before she leaned into you. “Hungry.”

“Cravings?”

Her skin looked pale and her bangs clung to her temple with latent sweat. “Is’hot…”

“What are you craving?”

“Ice cream…”

“What kind?”

“It’s hot.”

You signaled Donnie with a flick of your eye.

It was all it took for the line to move.

The woman who had been in front of you talked her way into the restaurant.

The man behind you turned to calm the others and talked of calling an emergency.

“No ambulance!” The pregnant woman barked.

The man relayed that.

Donnie met your side and produced a handkerchief.

“Got water?” You asked him and took the cloth to blot the pregnant woman’s brow.

“I do!” The woman from in front of you came out with that and a towel.

You fisted the cloth you had and together with the other woman from the queue got a wet towel prepared.

The moment it touched the pregnant woman’s skin, she came alive. “No, wait, this is the stuff.”

“Much cooler.” You agreed.

“Like ice cream!” The woman from the line confirmed.

“Ice cream…” The pregnant woman was wistful and pulled from you to lean against the wall again. “There’s that place…”

The woman from the line perked up. “Where?”

“Up the road with the… Can I have that?” The pregnant woman pinched at the towel pressed to her cheek.

“Of course.” You passed it off.

“Stuffed?” The woman from the line wondered.

The pregnant woman covered her whole face with the wet towel and spoke through it creating a comical bubble. “Yes!”

“Never been.” You added.

“Ugh!” The pregnant woman was sounding more coherent. “The smell makes me puke, but I’ve been eating their durian ice cream by the pound.”

“Durian?” The woman from the line was horrified.

“Cold dulls the smell! I need that nasty fruit and Stuffed delivers.” The pregnant woman tugged down her shroud. “I hate being wet, got a dry one?”

You unfurled the handkerchief from your palm.

She snatched it right up. “Hate needing help.”

“I bet. It drove my sister nuts when she was pregnant.” The woman from the line gave a lopsided grin. “Sometimes, you just need to-”

“I’m gonna stop you there.” The pregnant woman wiped her face. “Don’t give me that ‘sometimes you need to lean on others’ crap. My mom popped me and my brother out alone. My grandma did the same with her and her sisters. If I want ice cream at 2pm, I’m gonna get it. Teddy doesn’t know shit. I’m pregnant, not feeble.”

“Ted…dy?” The woman from the line blinked.

“Hey, is that a turtle with 3D glasses?” The pregnant woman pointed to Donnie with his own handkerchief. “What? Can’t you see in our dimension?”

Donnie’s lids lowered the slightest amount.

“That’s my husband.” You told her. “He is a turtle and the glasses are a style choice.”

“To what?” She scoffed at you. “The 1980s?”

You rolled your eyes in jest.

Donnie sent a minute amount of betrayal through your wedding band.

You brushed him off knowing full well you’d hear all about how the colors helped the many settings.

The pregnant woman got the cup of water from the woman from the line and gulped it down. “Alright…”

“You’re-?” The woman from the line went on high alert.

“I’m fine!” The pregnant woman hissed and tested standing as straight as she could.

You all watched to make sure she was stable. 

When she was satisfied, she gave a curt nod and looked at you. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

The woman from the line looked betrayed.

“You need to chill, but thank you too.” The pregnant woman turned on her.

“Good luck with your ice cream.” You gave her space.

“I’m getting two pints now.” She gleamed a ferocious smile at you.

The woman from the line’s eyes darted.

“If you follow me, I swear to God.” The pregnant woman rose with ire and slammed the wet towel and empty cup in the woman from the line’s hands.

It dampened her shirt and she held the soak in dismay.

“Who’s is this?” The pregnant woman flapped the hanky.

Donnie held up a hand.

“It’s gross. Good luck…” She passed him the cloth and gestured over him. “... getting back to the future, McFly.”

Donnie’s beak scrunched up in confusion

She laughed and clapped him on the shoulder both to share the joke and to get herself in motion.

Donnie rotated to watch her go.

“She’s referencing a movie.” You offered from behind him.

He returned with the wrinkled hanky in his open palm.

“Wanna throw that out?” You nodded to it.

He didn’t say anything, but had a put out nature as he pocketed it.

You chuckled and walked back to the line where the woman in front of you had already reclaimed her spot.

She was still looking down at the dark spot on her torso in dismay.

“Two more!?” Someone from a distance growled.

“They were in line before they saved a lady! You got a problem!?” The man behind you snarled.

“Maybe I do! I didn’t see that! I saw them cut!”

“Buddy!” The man behind you threatened and shoved his sleeves up.

A few other voices chorused for everyone to calm down.

The anger disengaged and the line finally took a step forward.

You sighed and shook your head.

“She really got so hot she almost passed out.” The man behind you started up to his companion. “My cousin, Gus, you know from the party, he once passed out from heat stroke, you think it’s like that?”

His companion didn’t seem to know.

Donnie looked up the line once before he turned his head. “It was as she said.”

“She did? When?” The man tilted his head.

“Increased blood flow.” Donnie noted.

“Oh yeah…” The man nodded with an oblivious tone.

Donnie reviewed him once before a spiteful air caught him and he launched into a dissertation.

The man, who you deemed to have a good heart, tried his best to keep up though the science that baffled him. Their conversation soon became a Q & A and you could tell the others in line were listening in. It helped pass the time as Donnie rattled off information you had once both rammed into your heads.

Getting pregnant was now a concept that was comfortably seated in the back of your mind. It didn’t nag you and instead tallied up with the usual daily thoughts. When your period came it did so as it had done prior to trying. When you were ovulating, your husband prompted you if he was so inclined, but it wasn’t a guarantee. You had both finally accepted conception’s fickle nature as much as anything else.

The idea of Donnie’s heat had been coming up in conversation since May. His starting window had never been exact and had a chance of occurring anywhere within his species’ season. Over the years, he had settled, just as you had now, into the concept of his heat and it was something of a normality. You both had become apt at dealing with it and you never minded the fuck fest of a vacation it granted you.

It was during one such conversation that you had wondered about Donnie’s birth control overdose. He had once theorized there was danger in impregnating you because his heat caused him to spout excess sperm. Now, however, he didn’t seem as convinced that there was a higher chance of you conceiving during the rut. All your newly gained knowledge about pregnancy had changed his perception. The only new conclusion you came to about his heat was a correlation. 

While the starting time frame appeared as random as the weather, there was a seemingly obvious kick-off point. The month of signaling that led up to his heat seemingly sunk up perfectly with your ovulation cycle. While you didn’t actually have the data of your menstruation from back then, you had it now and with it could give relatively accurate estimation of the past. Donnie felt comfortable enough in the data to say that one of your ovulations readied his body before the next started his heat proper. 

Donnie was more than a little miffed that his alter had figured out how to track your cycle before he consciously had.

The line moved you inside by the time your mate was listening to the man behind you’s companion talk about his wife’s pregnancy. They had gotten onto the topic of cravings and whether or not they correlated with vitamin deficiencies. The man behind you was staunch about it relating to the child’s personality and the other two men were furious each time he brought it up. You thought he might have been trolling them had you not been listening to the rest of his half baked ideas about mothers.

“Next!”

You had to tug Donnie’s elbow to get his attention.

The other men waved him off with especially good tidings.

“Did… you tell them we were trying…?” You asked right in front of the purveyor.

“I deemed it appropriate.” Donnie looked over at you coolly.

His wedding band gave away his giddiness.

“Ahem!” The employee’s head lolled.

“Sorry! The burrito and… the SPB?” You checked with your husband.

He nodded.

“Got it.”

You paid and were told to wait off to the side.

The woman who was in front of you had predictably run off to the restroom after ordering. She emerged just in time to get her food and the two men who had followed Donnie now gave him space as they were debating something new. You leaned against your mate and took in the smells trapped in the smaller building. You felt heightened to them when thinking of the pregnant woman and her durian. You wondered how you would deal with morning sickness when your order was called.

You grabbed it and headed out to that sunny spot.

As you stood facing the light like a flower, Donnie prepared your orders. He expertly swapped half of his wrap and your sandwich between boxes so you could try each other’s. You were an extra set of hands used as a table while he sorted the many condiments. He openly wondered about how to best dole out the four sauce cups and you didn’t particularly care what went with what. It was all going to mix into something delicious and eventually you were given a go ahead.

Your husband had opted to use lids to divvy up dressing and you scooped up your burrito with the intention of pouring some over it. It took some finagling with one hand while the other held the box. You were sure the innards of your dish would fall no matter how exact a bite you took. You dipped down and grabbed a mouthful for an explosion of flavor. You hummed deliciousness to your mate who was half way through his sandwich already. You smiled at him through a drip down your chin.

He chuffed lightly at your mess and juggled his box to pass you a napkin.

His own sauce cups flicked a drip out at his hand and he had to use another. You wiped your mouth clean to chide him, but you had a blowout from the bottom of your burrito. In a comical back and forth, there were just enough napkins to cover the course and you both leaned back in the light while digesting.

The sun was beaming.

You’d been in its direct clutches for a little too long as dampness followed your hair line. You reached up to test if the moisture there was real or imagined and came away with some shine to your fingertips. Donnie watched you and reviewed how he only had soiled napkins in an empty boat. On autopilot, he went for his pocket and produced the equally dirty handkerchief he had gotten back from the pregnant woman.

“We’ll wash it.” You urged him. “Don’t you have another?”

He nodded and handed you his trash. You stacked the mostly empty containers while he searched his coat. He got hold of a newly folded handkerchief and you blotted over your head with some imagery of southern gentlemen. You were just missing a linen suit and a cane, you mused to yourself. A boater hat might complete the look, but you wondered if that would only make you more sweaty. You came away having barely made a mark on the square of fabric.

“We are not built the same.” You joked.

Donnie made a curious noise.

You held your tidy handkerchief up in comparison with the wad of the other.

He made a noise of agreement. 

“Was that just the water?” You were close enough to smell it. “Oh… Eugh! Actually, wait…!”

He had probably smelled it the whole time. “She had especially active sweat glands.”

You held up your hanky as if to block your nose. “Is that just her or…?”

“A possibility, but pregnancy seems likelier. An attempt to keep her cool. Increased blood flow leads to higher basal temperature. Sweat is then produced in excess as balance.”

“But bacteria makes you stink, I thought.”

He juggled thoughts. “There’s some distinction with the hormone balance.”

“Can you smell that she’s pregnant?”

“I don’t make it a policy to sniff pregnant women.”

“That’s a good one to have.” You nodded.

You watched him stall for exactly three seconds before he lifted the dirty handkerchief up to obviously scent.

You pretended your hanky was a notepad. “What do you detect?”

He flicked you a rueful gaze. “I can’t correlate.”

“Name one thing.”

He looked at you expectantly as he had just explained he couldn’t.

“No.” You pursed your lips. “I meant name a hormone she could be producing. From what you know about pregnancy.”

“She was far enough along that corticotropin might be released.”

“Which is that?”

“For stress, aids in onset for labor.”

“Okay, so I definitely don’t have that.” You held your handkerchief out to him. “Mine’s the baseline, how are they different?”

The slight upturn of his smile scolded you. “The bacterial flora on your two skins widely differs.”

You shook the cloth in hand.

“I smell scallions.” He told you playfully.

“I’m trying to train your nose.” You joked in return.

He sighed as if it were a big effort and was particularly delicate in whiffing your handkerchief.

“And back to the tester.” You told him.

He was amused enough to turn his beak the other direction to take another sniff.

He snuffed a few extra times.

Your head tilted.

He went back to your handkerchief.

“Don…?”

“Just… just a moment.” He caught your cloth and pulled the two close for a back and forth comparison.

You cradled your trash in both hands and you watched him sniff the two handkerchiefs with increasing uncertainty.

He then stopped abruptly to glower down at both objects.

You dipped your head to catch his eye.

He looked at you with a staunched expression. “I would like to go home.”

You made a small sound of surprise and gave a tight nod.

“It’s not nothing. It’s not something.” He turned to leave.

You sensed he was about to set a fast pace and readied yourself.

He took a large step forward and you immediately had to jog to keep up.

He wove in and out of people and you were forced to draft behind him.

“It doesn’t make any sense.” He tossed both for himself and over his shoulder at you.

You didn’t bother prompting him.

“We’ve proved time and time again. Humans do not have pheromones. Scent does not dictate internal mechanisms. You can test its make-up! These factors do not have a smell!”

He turned a sharp corner and you stumbled after him.

“Are there some studies!? Yes!” His hand lifted in irritation. “As with all pregnancy literature there is asinine study. Human babies have excellent scent capability. Examinations have found they recognize how to breastfeed by picking up smell from their mother’s armpits. That is not pheromones. There’s no signal. They know the scent of their mother and armpits are repertoires of olfactory pungency!”

He continued at a certain speed before he suddenly stopped.

Instead of allowing you to crash into him, he caught you and steered you into a bodega. “An asinine comparison regardless.”

You were led straight to a cooler and he plucked out your preferred brand of bottled water.

“This?” He offered it to you.

“Sure…?” You looked on owlishly.

He nodded once and swept around an aisle to the register. “You wouldn’t be anywhere near producing prolactin.”

You didn’t dare let yourself think anything on that as you watched him pay for the bottle.

“Drink, please.” He handed it off to you the second the transaction was done.

“Walk a little slower.”

He looked for a moment like he might sob, but he relented with a nod.

“Keep going.” You opened the lid and took a swig.

He waited for you to gulp it down before moving again. “There’s mounting data. Contrarian data!”  

You were drinking the water as you moved.

“One’s forehead! There’s moisturizer! Sunscreen! Hair care products! Make-ups! That woman had mascara on!”

You were getting closer to your apartment as Donnie rattled off every single thing that could skew the smell. It took him into the territory of false positives in pregnancy tests which by proxy spooked him. You walked a few blocks in complete silence until he heard you finish the bottle.

“I could have given you too much… Excess liquid…!”

“We didn’t have drinks with the food or before that.” You reminded him.

“Salt content offset…” He rambled off what sounded like nonsensical math to you, but they were numbers you were sure made sense to him.

You got to your building and were the first through the door as Donnie was caught in a calculation storm. He sorted out what he could quantify and deemed your urine concentration okay before he reviewed the new options between stairs and elevator. He sent you one desperate gaze before you held your limbs out for him to take you. In one smooth rotation, you were hoisted into his arms and he took entire flights of stairs in single leaps.

You were gently set back on your feet at your door and Donnie’s hands shook as he reached for the knob. You resisted settling his wrist for him and he flexed angry fingers before he could get it open. He didn’t bother taking his coat off as he rushed straight through to the bedroom. You followed after, just barely kicked your shoes off, and found him already in the bathroom. He was washing his hands and you kept out of the entry for when he finished.

The moment his hands were dry he flew out the door and you took his spot at the sink. The water ran warm and you scrubbed into your palms with latent thoughts about how you once hadn’t cared about sauce. If you hadn’t  gotten any then you wouldn’t have spilled. If you hadn’t made a mess then you wouldn’t have used all the napkins. If you hadn’t used all the napkins then Donnie wouldn’t have gone for his handkerchief. If that woman hadn’t used it then you would have never thought to compare.

It was a million tiny chances that you could have missed and you were limply holding a washcloth when you felt Donnie appear behind you.

You turned to find his arms stuffed with pregnancy test boxes.

“The water…! Are you-!?” One slipped and he adjusted the load to keep it upright.

“I’m ready. You’ve got duplicates.” You pointed them out. “Lay them out on the counter.”

He nodded miserably as he sorted the boxes by brand.

When he had only one set of each test, you moved to pull your pants down. Donnie opened each box and methodically read through the instructions. You sat on the toilet and he passed you the first stick for you to start. It was a back and forth process of wetting each test, but you soon had them all piled up again amongst a myriad of phone timers.

“Three minutes to fifteen.” Donnie pointed down the line as he had also apparently organized them by time they would take.

“’It’s not nothing. It’s not something.’” You repeated. “But…?”

“You heard all I’ve said.”

You nodded.

“You and her had a similar scent marking. Could be anything.”

You nodded again.

“Could be nothing.”

“Could be something.” You added

He took a shaky breath and the first timer went off.

Donnie had also folded the instruction atop each box so their results key was visible.

Together, you both looked.

Two lines appeared.

You looked at the key.

You looked at Donnie.

Another timer went off.

You moved to the next in line.

Donnie pointed to the similar two lines.

You nodded.

Another beeping signaled.

One by one.

Two dark lines.

Two bold lines.

Mark after mark.

Ticks of a clock.

Comparisons to paper.

All seven tests were taken.

All seven results were read.

You leaned against the far wall in your bathroom.

Donnie had a grip on one half of the sink and the door jamb as he poured over the tests.

His head moved as the only indication he was reading them again and again.

“Morning sickness.” You whispered out from behind your hand.

“We don’t know the timeline.”

“It starts at four weeks.”

“We don’t know the timeline.”

“My ovulation.”

Donnie was silent.

“We don’t know the timeline of conception, but we do know my cycle.”

Donnie’s finger twitched against the counter.

“My last ovulation.”

“Just over two weeks ago.”

Your eyes widened. “My period?!”

Donnie’s head lifted.

A calendar appeared in your face.

He turned to look at it.

You saw his visage through the faint lines and numbers.

You both traced obviously to the projected timeline.

“I’m six days late…” You spoke it first.

He flipped back a month on the calendar.

You held up a haunted finger to where your last period was projected, but no actual dates were logged.

Donnie usually marked those.

He dotted each day you bled with an all too obvious correlating red dot.

The calendar was missing the marks. 

He hadn’t done it last month. 

Your mate appeared pale through a wall of purple neon.

“I’m… 30…? Something… days… late…”

His pupils shook.

“Donnie…”

“Blood test and evaluation.”

“Donnie.”

“I will get you scheduled tomorrow.”

“Don.”

He swiped the calendar away and searched obviously.

You knew he was looking for his phone and caught it from beside the sink before he could.

“Y/N.” He spoke with a voice that was both stuffed and empty.

He couldn’t chance that hope.

Even now.

Even as he stood in front of seven positive pregnancy tests.

Not yet.

He needed something more concrete.

You hugged him.

He stood stoic for one moment before his arms slipped around you.

You felt the fragility and squeezed him tighter.

His hands quaked as they pressed into you.

You crushed him with all your might.

He finally returned the hug.

First with a small hold then a turning coil.

His knees buckled and he went down with you squatting to keep him close.

You tumbled forward so he was on his back and you fell against his plastron. You shared one watery look where a split second smile crashed lightning on Donnie’s face before you kissed.

💜 NEXT 💜

Tomorrow is the last day of my endless eight vacation, but you know I'm always thanking my betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 You would think they'd get a more of a break from me but I'm out here plotting 50+ page outlines for a fae concept cause I stay silly. They are MVPs!

[senqv]

FOLK OF THE GREY WAVES.

blue lock ! mermaid au featuring : alexis ness , michael kaiser , kurona ranze x gn! reader

warning(s) : kaiser tries to kill you once purposefully and once accidentally ( what’s new ) , biting , dead fish rip , lmk if there are more !

a/n : can you tell i was an ocean loving child

alexis ness !

prolly a dolphin mercreature … you know how the media portrays dolphins to be cute little angels but actually they are wild. yea

he has a curious nature as a dolphin, but also, as we know, incredibly intelligent

he can’t speak too much, but communicates with little thrills and chirps <3

you learn his name after he draws it out onto the sand, he really likes how you say his name !!

alexis also likes to ‘study’ you, as you say, and he is extremely fond of wrapping his tail around your legs — he doesn’t have them, after all, so he’s really curious on how they work !

he always leaves some gifts for you by rocks for you, like shells and clams with pearls in them <3 sometimes he finds some weird human contraption that was dropped into the sea and brings them to you as well

you bring your own gifts for him too ! he’s quite fond of flowers; especially lavenders, the sweet smell really appeals to him. he’s kinda sad that he can’t bring them underwater though :(

a regular bottlenose dolphin is about 2-4 m ( around 6.7 - 13.1 feet ) in length, so he’s quite big — bigger than you at least.

despite his large size, he’s very gentle with you, brushing his face over your palms and examining your legs with apt fascination. his fingers are nearly floating above your skin, because you’re so small compared to him that he really doesn’t wanna hurt you (*⁰▿⁰*)

he’s always mimicking you smiling. it’s his favourite expression !! it gets a little unsettling sometimes because you can tell that something has angered him but he’s still like :)

and then suddenly some people who have bothered you have develop a fear of the sea and refuse to go near it and you hm

splashes water on you to express his displeasure. and then he nudges you down when you try to tackle him as revenge … and somehow he is surprised you went down so easily ??? like huh have you not seen the size difference

overall really cute 10/10

michael kaiser !

if dolphins are bad this guy is an orca. the worse subspecies of dolphin fr they r such menaces ( but also my favourite ocean species LAWL they r too cute )

probably tried to kill you the first time y’all met ??

orca LOVE to play around with their prey. he definitely tried to flick you into the air but then decided that he was quite fond of you and now you’re his human. like um .ok ?????

really likes shiny things ! tinkers around with the bracelets and rings you wear, it’s cute how his pupils dilate a little when a glass bead reflects against the sunlight just right

he would really like for you to swim with him, but the sea is horrendously cold during the winter …

he doesn’t really understand that concept, so he tried tugging you into the water once, and you could barely submerge half your body you froze up and had to get out :(

kaiser refused to let you go afterwards for a long time, wrapping his arms and tail around you, a grumbling sound from his throat and warm breath against your neck <3

his fins twitching and his huge tail slamming on the deck nervously as he massages your arms to get the blood flowing again

he can’t let his favourite human die too fast yknow :( but the asshole attitude returns after he knows you’re fine. mf

he brings you his catches; huge fish, turtles, sometimes even smaller dolphin species as ? gifts ?? and lowkey gets offended when you explain how you can’t haul all those back to your house

again — he is huge. male killer whales are about 6 - 8 m ( 19.6 - 26.3 ft ) in length !! sits you on his lap as he marvels at how tiny you are compared to him

after thorough observation, he mlems at you face and you can’t tell if the grin he sports is him telling you that you’re going to be his next meal or something else

really likes it when you trace the patterns on his tail <3 he hides his face in his arms so you can’t see his expression but his tail is thrashing really wildly !!

possibly a 10 when he’s not trying to kill you

kurona ranze (黒名 蘭世) !

do i even need to say it ??? shark boy <3 i’d say hes a lemon shark mercreature !! omg i love lemon sharks they r the cutest

just putting it out here that lemon sharks are possessive of their humans and get jealous when they give other sharks too much attention LOL

kurona wraps his tail around you when he wants your attention and just in general when you’re near him !!

like ness, he is really curious of your legs. tried biting them once or twice — it doesnt hurt, but the occasional bite marks on your calves and thighs are hard to explain to your friends

his teeth are really cute to look at tho !! very spiky, and he grabs your hand so you can feel the groves of his triangular teeth and his tongue licking at your finger-pads

really likes swimming with you — you don’t even have to tread water cause he’ll just hold you by the waist and swim like that !! strong boy

kurona knows a lot about the ocean (since he practically lives in it ..), he brings you to see tiny glowing jellyfish at night and little bioluminescence plankton in underwater caves !! he gets really happy when he sees you excited over them

his eyes dilate … like a lot. they get huge when he sees you cause he loves you <3

really enjoys getting pets ! he’s not too expressive but you can always hear some gentle purring when you run your fingers through his hair

brings you small coral and pearls as gifts <3 sometimes he feels mischievous and just spits out some kind of fish at your feet just to scare you _:(´ཀ`」 ∠): wtf kurona !!

loves laying his head on your lap to hear you muse about the stars and constellations at night <3

deadass tries to lean his near 3 m ( 11 ft ) self on you like . hello

really likes stars a lot, his tail was practically wagging when you gave him a bracelet strung of star-shaped beads !!

he brought you a really pretty starfish afterwards as thanks

kurona automatically starts licking at your wounds if you have any, and he’s really careful not to get saltwater on them

doesnt like it when you’re hurt in any form :(

10/10 sea puppy bf

now i lowkey wanna sketch mermaid au blue lock adjdjhsjasjsj

[sombrathedragon]

When your boyfriends fall asleep on you because they can’t stand the summer heat..

Winter x Turtle x Blue save me… I call it WinTur Blue 😈😈😈 erm I blame @yellow-computer-mouse for this he’s converted me 😔😔😔😔

Reblogs mean more than likes!

[yellow-computer-mouse]

What are some of your favorite unpopular wof ships

SLAMMING MY FIST ON THE TABLE THANK YOU!!!!!! FOR ASKING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

blue x winter

winter x turtle

turtle x blue

^ IT'S A POLYCULE!!! QUEERPLATONIC!!!! it's called WinTur Blue (name by @sombrathedragon :3)

[plain text: @/sombrathedragon]

moon x lynx!!!!!!!!! THEY'D BE SO CUTE SOBBING

erm. OUGH that's all i can think of NO

SHOUTOUT @wofconfessionsblog for introducing me to the idea of tsunami x io btw!!!!!!!!!! (sorry if you don't wanna be tagged!! /gen)

[plain text: @/wofconfessionsblog]

that's all (actually this time) tysm for the ask!!!!!!!!!!!!! :DD

[yall-hate-kids-tourney]

Y'all Hate Teens Tourney Bracket

(Bracket updated through Round 2c)

76 teens who are unfairly treated by the fandom for being teens. Who has it worst?

We tried our best with the matches, but sifting through several unique submissions does get to us... We apologize for any unfavorable matchups.

Please let us know of any name corrections. For Japanese names in particular, we denote long vowels and put given name first.

No guarantees on when the tourney starts, but we'll try to get it started within a week. We'll start by setting up the propaganda posts, which will be separate from the poll posts this time around.

Round 1 and 2 matchups under the cut. Color-coded schedule here; undescribed. Note that the listed order is not the same as the schedule.

Round 1

Alicent Hightower (House of the Dragon) vs. Abigail Hobbs (Hannibal)

Amy "Panacea" Dallon (Parahumans (Worm/Ward)) vs. Orihime Inoue (Bleach)

Lady Kenna (Reign) vs. Lisa "Tattletale" Wilbourn (Parahumans (Worm/Ward))

Kokichi Ouma (Danganronpa V3) vs. Scott McCall (Teen Wolf (MTV))

Daphne Blake (Scooby-Doo) vs. Sophie Foster (Keeper of the Lost Cities)

Breezepaw (Warrior Cats) vs. Winter (Wings of Fire)

Gamzee Makara (Homestuck) vs. Yanqing (Honkai Star Rail)

Vriska Serket (Homestuck) vs. Haru (Beastars)

Dirk Strider (Homestuck) vs. Xander Harris (Buffy the Vampire Slayer)

Wednesday Addams (Wednesday (Netflix)) vs. Sylvester Ashling (Epithet Erased)

Yukine (Noragami) vs. Sayaka Miki (Puella Magi Madoka Magica)

Yukio Okumura (Blue Exorcist) vs. Soyo Nagasaki (Bang Dream! Girls Band Party!)

Round 2

Dawn Summers (Buffy the Vampire Slayer) vs *1

Marcy Wu (Amphibia) vs. Fatespeaker (Wings of Fire)

Sansa Stark (Game of Thrones) vs. Charlotte Pudding (One Piece)

Olly (Game of Thrones) vs. Penny Carson (Bojack Horseman)

Azula (Avatar: The Last Airbender) vs. *2

Mai (Avatar: The Last Airbender) vs. Peril (Wings of Fire)

Katara (Avatar: The Last Airbender) vs. *3

Steven Universe (Steven Universe) vs. Gohan (Dragon Ball Z)

Adrien Agreste (Miraculous Ladybug) vs. *4

Marinette Dupain-Cheng (Miraculous Ladybug) vs. Sakura Haruno (Naruto)

Muu Kusunoki (MILGRAM) vs. Misa Amane (Death Note)

Chloé Bourgeois (Miraculous Ladybug) vs. Candace Flynn (Phineas and Ferb)

April O'Neil (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012)) vs. *5

Gwen Stacy (Spider-Man : Into the Spider-verse) vs. Dovepaw (Warrior Cats)

Damian Wayne (DC) vs. *6

Sasuke Uchiha (Naruto) vs. Kyuusaku Yumeno (Bungou Stray Dogs)

Shinji Ikari (Neon Genesis Evangelion) vs. *7

Shuuji Kayama (Digimon) vs. Gon Freecs (Hunter x Hunter)

Asuka Langley Sohryu (Neon Genesis Evangelion) vs. Youko Nakajima (The Twelve Kingdoms)

Rei Ayanami (Neon Genesis Evangelion) vs. Uzi Doorman (Murder Drones)

Akito Shinonome (Project Sekai) vs. *8

Ena Shinonome (Project Sekai) vs. Mafuyu Asahina (Project Sekai)

Katsuki Bakugou (My Hero Academia) vs. *9

Yuuma Tsukumo (Yu-Gi-Oh) vs. Megumi Fushiguro (Jujutsu Kaisen)

Wesley Crusher (Star Trek: The Next Generation) vs. *10

Ezra Bridger (Star Wars: Rebels) vs. Theresa "Scary" Marlowe (Dungeons and Daddies)

Hope Estheim (Final Fantasy XIII) vs. Tohru Honda (Fruit Basket)

Severa (Fire Emblem) vs. Taimi (Guild Wars 2)

Yukari Takeba (Persona 3) vs. *11

Rise Kujikawa (Persona 4) vs. Kotone Shiomi (Persona 3 Portable)

Goro Akechi (Persona 5) vs. *12

Yuuki Mishima (Persona 5) vs. Makoto Niijima (Persona 5)

Phew, that was a lot.

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The Shadow of the Past

"The blame was mostly laid on Gandalf." Whatever you did, you've been officially labeled a Disturber of the Peace...

Something about "but the growth of hobbit-sense was not very noticeable" cracks me up

I love the fact that Frodo kept throwing birthday parties for Bilbo after he left. It's so sweet.

I would much rather go to Frodo’s Hundred-weight Feast than Bilbo’s Party of Special Magnificence, actually; twenty guests and several meals “at which it snowed food and rained drink” sounds much more my speed X-D

“Bilbo isn’t dead.” “Where is he then?” “🤷‍♂️”

F in the chat for Folco Boffin, who was mentioned like once in this chapter and never comes into the story again

"Merry and Pippin suspected that [Frodo] visited the Elves at times, as Bilbo had done." TEA???

Frodo's wandering in the autumn has such an evocative and melancholy feeling to it. So much so that I wrote a poem about it last year...

Part Two of me wishing the movies could have shown the Dwarves passing through the Shire on their way to the Blue Mountains

Sam be like "Dragons and Ents are real, I tell you!" and Ted Sandyman like "press X to doubt"

Our first glimpse of Sam's unassailable trust in Frodo and his wisdom 💚

And now! Exposition dumping, with Gandalf.

I hate the fact that I can't see or hear the word Eregion without getting war flashbacks to Amazon's Rings of Poopy

Ooh, remind me to write an essay about the invisibility power of the Ring(s)...

"[Bilbo] would certainly never have passed on to you anything that he thought would be a danger." Oh boy, would you look at the time, it's Crying About Adoptive Relationships O'clock

"'There wasn't any permanent harm done, was there?' asked Frodo anxiously. 'He would get all right in time, wouldn't he? Be able to rest in peace, I mean.'" OH BOY, WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME—

Literally Gandalf: "Hobbits are my special interest"

"It is quite cool." It sure is, Gandalf. Wicked. Radical, even.

Low-hanging fruit, I know, but I had to 🤣

Speaking of low-hanging fruit, here's a joke I made two years ago about the "until Spring had passed into Winter" line:

He threw a luau barbecue one breezy summer night/Invited all his turtle pals to come and have a wiki bite/The turtles started walkin' there as Lance began to swing/The one that lived across the street arrived there in the spring...!

"I wish it need not have happened in my time." "So do I, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us." Still a line that goes so, so hard, right in the middle of this exposition dump.

I like how in Gandalf's story, he makes Deagol talk normally, but Smeagol still has all those verbal idiosyncrasies that are iconic to Gollum.

I'm still trying to remember who it was that pointed out that the last syllable of Smeagol is the first syllable of Gollum. Blew my mind when I saw that, I tell ya.

"I can put it no plainer than by saying that Bilbo was meant to find the Ring, and not by its maker. In which case you also were meant to have it. And that may be an encouraging thought." "It is not." 🤣🤣🤣

The thought of Gollum creeping through a window to snatch a baby from a cradle and eat it is at least seventeen different kinds of Not Fun. Thanks, Tolkien.

I have very little to say about Gandalf's retelling of the Ring's story—and Frodo's frightened and naive questions—except that it's almost as hard to tear your eyes away from the book as it is for Frodo to throw the Ring into the fire.

"I do really wish to destroy it! Or, well, to have it destroyed. I am not made for perilous quests." Oh, Frodo, bby...

I love how Sam's spying is so artfully foreshadowed here X-D You just go whistling away down that path, buddy! Nobody suspects a thing!

All Frodo has to say is "I suppose I'll have to go running into danger alone to keep everything and everyone I love safe, even if it means never coming home again; it's a pity, but I'll do it" and Gandalf is like "Frodo have I mentioned lately how much I love you and hobbits in general". Which. Mood! Big mood!

SUDDENLY, SAMWISE GAMGEE!

Good gracious did I need Sam and his comic relief after this heavy chapter X-D Bless you, Sam, you loveable dummy

I wonder what hobbit idiom Tolkien "translated" into "Lor bless you, sir". I'm not sure the hobbits have a concept of Eru Illuvatar as a benevolent God who hands out blessings; and if they do, I somehow doubt they'd have quaint little figures of speech like this. But I'm just nitpicking at this point because it's fun.

"There ain't no eaves at Bag End, and that's a fact." SAM 🤣🤣

"Mr. Frodo, sir! Don't let him hurt me, sir! Don't let him turn me into anything unnatural! My old dad would take on so." Have I mentioned that I love the heck out of Sam?

Frodo is "hardly able to keep from laughing", which, MOOD!

Sam heard that Mr. Frodo was going away and audibly choked. GAH I love him so much

Frodo sure knows how to threaten Sam LOL

"If you even breathe a word of what you've heard here, then I hope Gandalf will turn you into a spotted toad and fill the garden full of grass-snakes." 🤣🤣

"'Me, sir!' cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. 'Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!' he shouted, and then burst into tears." Oh, Sam. I love you.

[firebirbsstuff]

Wings of Fire Ship Theme Songs

Clay X Peril — Dark Side by Kelly Clarkson

Tsunami X Riptide — Heart Attack by Demi Lovato

Glory X Deathbringer — Dirty Work by Halestorm

Starflight X Fatespeaker — People Like Us by Kelly Clarkson

Winter X Qibli — Oh Devil by Electric Guest

Turtle X Kinkajou — affection by BETWEEN FRIENDS

Blue X Cricket — She Blinded Me With Science by Thomas Dolby

Sundew X Willow — Fire on Fire by Sam Smith

Snowfall X Lynx — The Other Side covered by Annapantsu

Luna X Swordtail — Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell

Moonwatcher X Kinkajou — girls by girl in red

Blaze X Glacier — two queens in a king sized bed by girl in red

Umber X Flame — Lemon Boy by Cavetown

Anemone X Tamarin — Little Miss Perfect by Write Out Loud

Jambu X Pineapple — Your Love (Deja Vu) by Glass Animals

[mci-writing]

My Life is Like a TeamStarkid Play, But Less Terrifying (Rise!Leonardo x Fem!Reader) 1/???

A/n: Hi. Just gonna preface a little with a general note that the reader is part alien. It is an integral part of the story for later and it will be brought up quite a bit. Just based on past tmnt iterations and their relation to aliens and space which Rise lacked up until the movie (and, even then, still lacked). The two songs used here are both from The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals: What Do You Want, Paul? and La Dee Dah Dah-Day respectively. I recommend listening to them so the flow of the scene sets a little better. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: language use, sexual references, musicals, some dark humor but like tastefully in a theater kinda way, this series is very reader-centric Word Count: 5.4k Kofi

Part 2

Fingers anxiously tap, tap, tap at a bedazzled binder, the label, ‘PLAY IDEAS’, is peeling at the corners. Teeth nervously nibble at the dry skin on the bottom of the owner’s lip, stopping when she inevitably draws blood again.  

“If you keep gnawing away at your lip like that, you won’t have one left,” The voice next to her spooks her out of her trance, a soft gasp leaving her lips as she straightens. (Y/n)’s face quickly drops as Leo pokes her cheek, her (e/c) eyes meeting his shit-eating grin. The accompanying red-eared slider happily slides into the metal chair beside her, arms resting on the backs of the chairs beside him, “You’re worrying too much, senora. Your drama teacher would be insane not to use any of the spicy ideas brewing in that mind of yours.”

“I wouldn’t say spicy…” (E/c) eyes slide down to the binder between her fingers only for it to be snatched by three long and slender, green fingers. They follow to a smirking Leo, the mischievous glint in his eyes sparkling a little brighter as he shakes it to and fro, which he stops at the slight sound of a paper plausibly tearing, “Though, I won’t get to share them if you mess them up, Leon.”

He purses his lips, blowing through them and making that weird horse whining noise, as he sets it in his lap and flips through the pages (which all luckily seem intact, thank fuck). He stops occasionally to analyze a few, his exaggerated faces giving her no true hint of what he’s thinking. His humming with each page doesn’t help.

It’s not like the pages are anything special or filled with over-the-top, never done before ideas, but they at least provide an idea of where to take whichever play they decide to pick for the semester. It’s filled with mainstream big plays, with hopes that the big names will draw more of the student body to join, and plausible proposed budgets that the school’s faculty would easily agree with (going off of her mother’s industry metrics-). There were also margins and pages filled with mathematical equations estimating probable costs that only Donnie or a very determined and a little too excited drama student director would notice. Leo is more than positive they teamed up on it in some way.

He lingers on a few pages, which she assumes to be the more eye-catching ones or the few musicals he actually knows (courtesy of the girl next to him). She doesn’t miss him quickly moving past the big number pages and extra gibberish that only those in “the business” would understand. It’s a rare instance of him being completely silent as he analyzes the pages. It only heightens (Y/n)’s worries about the quality, but she distracts herself as she moves her (e/c) irises to linger on other details and aspects presented to her at this moment.

A good bit of his features are obscured by his admiral blue winter hat and matching sweater while his jacket hangs over her chair (she isn’t sure when he managed to put it there). Not even the most perceptive of people would pick up on the exposed parts of his face being reptilian shades of green in his current getup. Then again, she’s more than positive the turtles could very easily pass as people when they cover their shells (something she has bared witness to so often), especially in the melting pot of NYC. She does miss his crescent moons, hidden away by the felt of his hat, but it’s a small price to pay to avoid lingering questions. Without the shit-eating grin, his face is mischievous enough that you would assume he’s always up to something, which isn’t necessarily an off assumption, but (Y/n) just knows when the wheels in his brain are turning from years of experience.

“Alright, done!” (Y/n) doesn’t realize how close she is until his head turns to face her, the two mere inches apart from each other as opposed to the slightly bigger distance they had. It definitely throws her off a little, but Leo remains unphased as he continues, “Looking through this thing only proved my point further. You possess the sauce-”

“The sauce?” (Y/n) asks with a tilt of her head, somehow managing to take the binder back into her arms and holding it close to her chest, “What the hell is the sauce?”

“I have no idea! But Mikey’s used it enough times for me to confidently say that you have got it, whatever it is! Mama Celeste will be so proud, (N/n),” She’s now 100% sure he mistook Mike’s cooking speeches as some new lingo, but she’s not allowed to dwell on that for too long as she hears the voice of her drama teacher calling her to his office, “That’s your cue. Go get ‘em, tiger.”

She stands to her feet, taking a deep breath as she turns her attention to the office. She stares for a moment, feeling the nervousness creep up her spine as the binder in her hands gains thousands of pounds. With a shaky step forward, the deep pit in her stomach reminds her of literally everything hanging on her gaudily designed book. Of course, any other time she’d be reminding herself that any of the musicals they choose is alright and that any of her ideas being turned down isn’t the end of the world, but she can only focus on the fact that this is her senior year and anything going wrong feels like the end of the world to her. 

She feels dizzy in worry, her throat going uncomfortably dry. Her breathing slows and, to any party outside her mind, she looks like a deer in headlights as she stands staring at the door. Her heart rattles in her chest-

“Heey, Mamacita! Chill out,” Green fingers settle themselves on (Y/n)’s shoulder, tugging her into Leo’s chest as a reassuring grin graces his features. Their cheeks touch as he stares straight towards the door, his fingers on his other hand softly gripping her chin and keeping her eyes on the door, “You know all the business insider secrets because of your mom. Don’t let them go to waste. Ya’ve got this, (N/n). Go in there and rock it like you know how.”

His words actually manage to calm her, her breathing evening back out as she slowly regains her confidence. The small feeling of nausea remains but is slightly tolerable now.

“Plus, as much as I love the laser light show idea for The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals, Hadestown will probably be a hands-down legend for this school with the right vocal lessons. But that’s just me.” Annnd now she knows his biases from her creative selections, “Knock ‘em dead, tigresa!”

He gives her a light push through the door, leading to her stumbling and falling on her ass in front of her teacher. He doesn’t pay her much mind, barely looking up from his paperwork. 

“Ms. Brown. Good evening,” He gives her a bit of a hand wave before finally looking up, “Ready to discuss this semester’s play?”

“Yes, Mr. Sherma” She quickly stands to her feet, suddenly very self-conscious of her grotesquely decorated binder as she holds it to her chest, “Yes, I am. And, this time, I brought an idea book to explain my ideas a little better!”

He holds his hand out for it, delicately handling it as he brings it to lay on his desk. His fingers are nimbler than Leo’s as they open the pages, flipping through them with careful precision. His eyes linger longer, the scene playing out similarly to earlier.

He occasionally brushes the parts of his brown hair back, his eyes, tired but curious, scanning each and every detail. She’s reminded of some of her classmates joking about him looking like a Renaissance version of a particular Twitch streamer.

The only time it’s obvious which ones he’s interested in is when he looks over the proposed budget pages a bit longer than others. He hums and mumbles, not shy from making noises of displeasure at certain pages. She’s pretty positive she hears him mumble ‘cringe’ at some point.

(Y/n) awkwardly sits in one of the many chairs in his office, her fingers lightly tapping against her knees while her feet make little kicks. Her brown orbs glance around the room when she feels she’s been looking for too long. Various awards line the walls, some for students whose names she recognizes and others she’s maybe heard in passing. She recognizes a few of her own, not fighting the small smile that comes to her lips at the acknowledgment of her work of the past few years. The walls are also decorated with pictures throughout the years of performances and practices past as well as the occasional goofy memory, some a little hard to make out with the dying light of the assorted lamps.

“This… idea binder is full of interesting ideas, Ms. Brown, but they don’t tell me what you specifically want to do,” Mr. Sherma sighs as he closes it. His blue eyes meet her brown ones, an intensity behind them that she can’t read, “Each page has a lot of detail and potential, but none scream with desperate want, you know?”

She grows nervous, feeling herself start to sweat under his gaze. She tosses his words around in her mind, but it doesn’t make it much clearer, “What do you mean by that, sir?”

“What do you want, Brown? Tell me what you desire to see. Your deepest intent, Brown,” She feels herself flinch when he suddenly stands, her back pressing deep into the chair as he leans forward and sings at her. She never knows what to expect from her drama teacher, but the operatic sounds that leave his mouth aren’t it, “What do you see for this production? I’m looking for someone with strong ambition, someone to sell their specific vision, someone to share with precise precision their thoughts. ‘Cause I want you to want… To want!”

She’s thrown off further once he begins walking around his desk. He stops once he reaches the front, comfortably leaning against the mahogany with little disregard for its old and thin nature. He crosses his arms over his chest as he stops, looking down at her, “So what do you want, Ms. Brown? What’s the one concrete goal that motivates all your actions?”

(Y/n)’s lost at his sudden questions, her head naturally tilting as she stares back at his determined gaze with equal confusion. Her face scrunches up, eyebrow lifting. He doesn’t elaborate, again, so she doesn’t even know how to begin to unpack all of what he’s pushing for.

“I don’t think I have one of those?” She finally manages to wrangle up, giving her teacher another one of her nervous, closed-eye smiles.

He remains quiet for a moment, staring her down for a bit. She opens her eyes once she realizes he hasn’t said anything, awkwardly maintaining eye contact as he doesn’t exchange immediate words. She can feel a grimace starting to form while his face remains stony.

“Well, then, how’s anyone supposed to sympathize with you, Ms. Brown?”

“Huh? I don’t know…” Her mouth gapes open at that, but she quickly closes it to think of literally anything she could plausibly list. Most of her current goals involve catching criminals and living to make another day? Understanding her powers a little better and maybe her family heritage some? But those aren’t necessarily things many of her peers could relate to and sympathize with, at least, not in the way she has to deal with her goals. She thinks hard about some common goals that most high schoolers have, “I want what anyone wants…?” She thinks really, really hard, “Money, a partner? Kids, someday, maybe?”

Mr. Sherma nods his head at that, turning to face his desk. (Y/n) relaxes a bit, thinking that maybe, just maybe, that would be the end of it-

HE JUMPED ON THE DESK?!?!

“What the fuck?!”

“I want you to want, Brown! A girl so vague just can’t be trusted! Something you pine for, maybe someone who keeps you lusted.  I’m just a boss, I’m not an idea guy! I hire you kids to keep our plays ripe. But if you can’t pin the point that’s in the skyyyyy!” 

He starts to dance with ease, ignoring the resistance of his desk’s legs as he does a smooth spin in the middle of the surface. His footwork is delicate, fancy, even. (Y/n) finds it hard to even focus on what’s being sung at her as her eyes glide behind his movements. He stops in the center, sliding to his knees and pointing his right index finger in her direction while his left-hand rests on his chest “Then I want you to want, to want!”

“Sir?!” She can’t fight the laugh in her tone as she calls out, equally amused and heavily confused at this turn of events. She literally can not pinpoint why in the known universe he is singing at her, especially this song of all things, but she can’t lie and say she isn’t severely entertained.

“D’you know what I want for myself? I’ve waited for so lo-ong to tell somebody else,” His tone drops, becoming more somber as he manages to rhythmically set himself down from his desk. He grabs the picture of his wife off his desk, his head tilting as a fond look comes to his eyes, “Carol, my wife, you’re my muse, my source of light. Carol, my love, I want you to choke me out at night…” He plops himself down into his chair, longingly staring at the photograph of his wife, “I want you to choke me… I want you to choke me… I want you to choke me while I jerk off… I want you to choke me while I… jerk off.”

(Y/n) sits up at those words, a discomfort settling in the pits of her stomach and sinking further down. She doesn’t fight down the look of shock in her eyes at the admission, nor is she able to stop the noise of confusion she makes, “Um, sir-,”

Without missing a beat, Mr. Sherma presses the call button on his office phone, the beep loudly sounding through his small office. He leans over, a dazed look in his eyes as he stares forward, “Melissa, get my wife on the phone for me.”

(Y/n) quickly gathers her bags, reaching for her idea binder, “Mr. Sherma, I think I should leave-,”

“No, (Y/n), I want you to hear this,” He tugs the binder closer to him, not sparing her a glance as he adds, “If you leave, you’re fired.” 

It rings a bit before Mrs. Sherma answers, “Carol! Yes, everything’s fine, I promise. I just wanted to tell you something…,” He freezes, his dazed expression growing horrified as he stares forward, past the expansion of the messily decorated walls of his office into the inner turmoil of his request weighing on him, “I, uh, I forgot what it was… Maybe someday I’ll remember. Goodbye…”

It remains quiet after that. (Y/n)’s gaze remains downtrodden as she contemplates and processes how she was thoroughly traumatized by the shame of her drama teacher, but also not surprised by his antics. Mr. Sherma, however, was mentally suffering with his inability to tell his wife his deepest desires…

She looks up in time for her (e/c) pools to meet with despair-ridden shades of blue, the latter widening as Mr. Sherma rises to his feet and dances around his desk.

“Ms. Brown, now you know what it is to want!”

“I want to go home!” 

“It consumes a man with a passion to drive the primary plot,” His verses speed up as he ignores her pleas, “So take up yoga or improv classes. Volunteer at shelters or twitch to the masses.”

(Y/n) takes her gathered bags while he’s distracted.

“There’s gotta be something to keep my hands off you. Off youuu”

She manages to slip around him and grab her binder, holding it close to her chest.

“‘Cause I want you to want!”

“I’m gonna get some… coffee? Do you want anything?” (Y/n) manages to ease to the door, her hand struggling to get a good grip on the door.

“No, I need you to want!”

“How about an iced caramel frappe? Nothing better-,” The door magically opens for her just as her hand gets a good grip on the door. It drags her forward, causing her to lose her balance.

“And if you don’t want…” He freezes, taking a deep breath before releasing the highest note he’s hit that (Y/n) has ever known him to, “We’re throughhh.”

A soft donk sounds as her forehead meets a hard plastron. Scaly, strong arms wrap around her waist, holding her up. She isn’t surprised to find Leo above her with his signature, though more slightly confused than usual, grin. She raises her hand as she shrugs, nudging her head towards their exit and grabbing his hand to drag him through it, “Have a good rest of your evening, Mr. Sherma!”

As the two leave, they hear her teacher call out for her, hitting one last high note as they push through the auditorium doors. It only encourages (Y/n) to pick up her pace, leading the turtle through the halls toward the exit.

Leo is rightfully confused, especially when (Y/n) doesn’t elaborate on it in the slightest.

“Are we going to talk about that orrrrr?” He attempts to nudge, his hands coming up and crossing behind his head. He leans back into the hold, his eyes never leaving her form as they walk the streets of the neighborhood around the school.

He feels his breath hitch when she turns to him, undeterred by the grimace on her face when the light escaping from the sun’s rays meets the color of her eyes. He hears her response, but he finds himself more focused on her mannerisms as she animatedly fumbles through explaining what went down. Her (h/c) hair bounce with every step, just as animated as her, but still relatively deflated from the exhaustion of her instructor and the heavy plush of her pink winter hat.

“This almost was not worth giving up my shift for,” She finishes, bringing her fingers up to her lips to breathe on them. A pout takes place on her plump lips as she digs in her jacket pockets, slipping her gloves on, “He started singing about wanting and wants when all I want now is to make back the tips from Run of The Mill. We didn’t even pick anything because of his weird song!”

Leo finds himself only able to nod as (Y/n) continues to grumble the rest of her rant. He had only really heard the last bit of what was going on, but that was due to him deciding to investigate after hearing some weird screeching and shouting. He didn’t actually expect to find her being held hostage by her singing teacher, but it aligned pretty well with the few things he’d heard about Sherma from (Y/n) and April. Even now, he feels the man is something unreal entirely.

He takes the binder out from between her armpit while she’s distracted, her ramblings turning into muttered gibberish that he can very much still understand. He starts flipping through the pages again, his face softening as he stops on a page of distracted doodles he hadn’t noticed on his first run.

(Y/n) was no artist, by any means, but she was damn good at creating a scene of stick figures. Some showcased plausible blocked scenes and others were silly little things like a chibi version of herself squashed under a rock labeled ‘Drama’ in her fanciest cursive or exaggerated versions of their friend group doing severely ambiguous poses.

As he goes to flip to the next page, the hums of people on the street reach his ears, but his companion has stopped her ramblings. She’s stopped altogether, staring ahead with a bewildered look.

 “Carolers caught your attention, (N/n)?” He asks as he looks up from the book to her, a smirk dancing along his lips as the quip readies itself from his brain cells, “You can’t judge them too harshly for being a tad bit pitchy, y’know. Not everyone can hold a note by ear.”

The teasing was worth it, especially with the deadpanned expression she gave him in response. However, she shakes her head as her thumb and index finger grip his chin, pulling him down to her level. Their faces are mere inches apart and Leo can all but feel all the warmth spread through his face, “They’re all perfectly dancing in sync.”

He doesn’t exactly process her words, his eyes going smaller as his lips form an O shape, “What?” The words do slowly jog back up with his brain processing, laughing at her statement, “I’d expect them to be dancing in sync if they’re all caroling. Would be a little embarrassing if they put a whole dance together and all ended up doing their own thing-,”

“No, Leo,” Her fingers turn his head forward as she speaks. Her hold is firm enough to keep him there, yet soft enough that he doesn’t feel like his skin is gonna tear off as she directs him, “Look at them all in sync. Everyone…”

And just like she said, everyone on the street had been humming and dancing in sync to the same tune. No one seemed to be a pitch-off or a step out of line as they filled the streets of midtown New York.

“Holy shit…,” He mutters out, eyes the size of saucers as he takes it all in, “Was there some block party announced that we don’t know about or something? Flash mob, maybe?”

“For it to be this big, impossible,” (Y/n) mumbles back, releasing her grip on his chin as she also continues to take in the sight of the sea of bodies.

“Yeah-yeah-yeah!”

The crowd separates down the middle, continuing to shimmy and sway in tandem. A lone girl remains, bundled up in a big puffer jacket with a green vest over the top of it. Her right hand rightly grips a clipboard and the recycle sign on the left breast of her vest is just barely visible through the crinkles of the uniform. She’s suddenly belting out words, the widest grin on her face as she bounces for a few beats, fist happily pumping in the air as she perfectly centers herself between the crowd.

“Just a typical day, that’s got me feeling in a beautiful way. No rhyme or reason,” She starts, pointing at some random person in the crowd, “We could sing a duet, dance a style or two. Or I’ll make you a bet, just a smile will doooo.” 

She does flawless chaines before going into a sly, Italian fouetté. The duo flinches at the precision, their eyes trailing her moves. It really does nothing to give them context, but they can’t really complain when they’re already so enthralled.

She ends by raising both hands towards the air, feet spread as she belts to the sky, “Sometimes I just wanna shout on top of roof and mountaintops. All the world is paved in goldddd.” She lowers her hands as she holds the note out, tossing her clipboard off into the crowd somewhere. She places her now free hands on her hips as she walks along the lines of the crowd, hips bumping to the beat of the music, “Yesterday was retroactive, got myself a new perspective. I strut it up and down the road.”

“If the fighting climate change gig doesn’t work, she’d totally rock Broadway,” Leo comments perfectly between verses as they get a little closer to the action on the streets.

The girl stops her strutting right behind them, both arms resting on one of their shoulders, “So I throw out my worries and my old skin away,” She gives them both a little shove forward, nodding her head before doing a pirouette en dehors, “Doing what I want to do on this la dee dah dee daaaaaaay!”

Both teens stumble with (Y/n) catching herself by setting her feet on the pavement and Leo grabbing his arm as she’s steady. The girl stops spinning as she holds out the note, the folks in the surrounding area joining in midway through. The crowd begins to form a circle around the girl, Leo, and (Y/n), joining hands as they skip around them for a bit before changing directions and skipping the other way.

“La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day!”

“La dee dah dah day!” The crowd releases their hands in exchange for clapping on the beat, perfectly moving their hands in tandem with one another. High right, high left, low right, low left which each other word of the chorus and clapping on every word for each straight ‘La dee dah dee day’ 

The girl gives them both a high five before running out of the crowd as the circle disperses. Everyone on the street continues to hum and step on beat.

(Y/n) and Leo turn to each other, equally dumbfounded at the event transpiring around them. They still somehow manage to remain in the middle of the chaos, even as they attempt to weave through the crowd in search of the nearest manhole cover.

“What the fuck was that?” (Y/n) finally asks, turning to the blue-clad turtle as he fixes his ruffled clothes to hide himself a little better. 

Neither are really watching where they’re going when Leo accidentally bumps into a homeless guy on the street. He panics, straightening the guy before he can teeter much, “I’m so sorry, sir,” He quickly begins searching his pockets, “Here, let me see if I have any-,”

“Hey, man that’s cool,” The guy happily replies with a smile, seemingly ignoring the change that jostled out of his tin can, “‘Cause I may not have a home, but that’s way okay. ‘Cause I prefer to roam the streets all day.”

He sings in the same cadence as the girl from before. The crowd of people turns towards them, doing the heel-toe around them on the beat to the song, every other row going the same way while each row in between goes a different way.

“The world is my house, the dogs are my food,” A small dog scampers past, “Oh, look— a new blouse!” He lifts a newspaper from off the street, his face lighting up as he runs past them, “And a new trash can tooooo!”

(Y/n) steps closer to Leo, his arm immediately going for her shoulders and pulling her closer until she’s flush against him. Her hand immediately grips his jacket in an attempt to pull him closer. They’re unable to keep their eyes off of him and both are a little too petrified to move from where they stand. The guy skips around them, raising his hands into the air and lowering them the longer he circles.

“I used to want to kill them all while high on bath salt zombie drugs and snacking on a dead man’s face,” He stops and stares at them for a little too long, his glare shifting around to every person dancing around them as he does a little, slow spin in place. He stops before a bright smile lights his face, “But that just feels like yesterday! This song takes all the pain away. My politics and house views changed.” He does a little dancy dance to emphasize his point, “Dancing on the concrete used to hurt a lot, but now I got new feet and this jam’s just way too hot!”

“La dee dah dah day!” The crowd around them all lift their hands to the sky as they sing the chorus again, waving them to the beat with a small step every other note, “La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day! La dee dah dah day!”

(E/c) orbs spot an opening, her mind counting each beat it opens up. She steps away from Leo a bit, getting a grasp on his arm as her narrowed eyes keep a close watch on her path of escape. Her compadre starts looking through his pockets again, a grin on his face.

“I have literally no idea what’s going on here, but this is so cool!” He manages to pull out a five, happily setting it in the homeless guy’s tin can, “That’s all I’ve got for right now, but I’ll totally keep more cash on me in case I run into you guys again tomorrow.”

“Leo, come on,” She manages to pull him through the crowd just in time. It’s almost comical how easily she tugs him along through the rows of dancing New Yorkians, “This is the second dance number I’ve been forced to sit through today-,”

They continue to weave through the crowd, the clear street beyond the dance mob seemingly beyond their fingertips. (Y/n) keeps a strong grip on Leo as she leads the way, while he remains amazed by the group's movements around them. 

Just as they reach the end, the girl from before lands in front of them. She’s regained her clipboard, which now rests tightly in the palm of her hand. She takes a deep breath before she sings out a call, “Do you wanna save the planet?!”

“Of course, you want to save the planet!” The crowd calls back, freezing in place to stop and look back at her.

“Do you wanna save the planet?!”

“Well, there’s just one way you can do it!”

“By singing a song!” Without warning, the girl begins cartwheeling toward the center of the crowd as they sing back at her. She stops a moment to sing with them, “Singing along!” Before immediately going back to her cartwheels. The crowd goes back to singing the chorus as she does, every other row overlapping with the other

“La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day!” With each row she cartwheels by, the ensemble turns back towards the center. They continue to repeat it a few times, changing the lyrics up just as she hits the last row, “La dee dah dah, la dee dah dah, la dee dah dah day… Away…”

The girl does a flip in the air as she reaches the center, landing on her feet perfectly with her arms raised in the air and her clipboard intact between her fingers. She lowers herself to rest on one knee, belting out one final, “La dee dah dah”

Each row of the crowd falls to their knees one after the other aligned with each word she sings. It’s almost creepy how synchronized their moves are. They finish the song off in unison with a final, “Day!” Everyone holds the position for a few beats before getting up and moving along with their day like nothing just happened.

The two remain standing there after watching all of that happen, equally confused and mesmerized by the events that just transpired before them. Leo is by far more amused than (Y/n). He turns to her with a knowing grin as he takes in her face.

Her mouth is held open, has been since the girl cartwheeled and flipped back to the middle. Her eyes, while not the size of saucers, hold an intrigued gaze in them. Her grip on Leo’s arm loosened in the midst of that, her hand now limply resting on his inner forearm as opposed to tugging it forward.

“You’re gonna catch flies, (N/n),” Leo teases, his index finger hooking under her chin and slowly pushing it upwards. Once her mouth closes, he tilts her chin up towards him and their eyes meet. He doesn’t fight back his grin like he does the warm feeling in his cheeks and she doesn’t miss the way it rises as he catches sight of the soft flush in her cheeks, “You wish your classmates were that in sync.”

She huffs as she walks ahead of him into the alleyway, waiting for the streets to clear before pushing the manhole cover aside. She sits against the entrance, looking at him a little annoyed, “Yeah…” 

She jumps down into the sewer hole and activates her flight ability just in time to float to the bottom. Leo climbs down not too far behind her, touching the pavement a few minutes after.