#drunk turtle thoughts

[snapeingturtle]

I’m watching Shameless for the first time and idk why but I feel like for me Mickey Milkovich is another Snape variant bc I love him, he should be in prison, fuck he’s terrible, and I love him even more.

[goldfish-fhr]

@hypnostanatos I like how different their styles are and I wanted to doodle it after you showed me that collage of outfits—even though this outfit is far tamer then the edgy ones he probably wears 🫣

Two cool cats 🐈‍⬛ 🐈‍⬛

[regretisstoredintheme]

I just had an idea! And I think its cute yet funny and maybe even a little angsty, but hear me out. Reader got a crush on rise! Donnie but doesn’t act on it/tries to stomp it down cuz Donnie is obviously married to science. But then! He got accidentally splashed/drunk a love potion (which actually heightens the emotions and feelings for a person that are already there) and Donnie looks at reader and he falls for them! (He already had a liking towards them but now it got heightened)

He still acts like himself but in love and more boldly!

Reader feels conflicted because they like the attention and stuff Donnie gives them but also sad because Donnie only acts like that because of the potion. Shenanigans ensue, till the potion wears off andddd you decide how it ends

I thought this could be a pretty fun prompt/theme/etc to do

Also you’re amazing! Love you’re writing! I definitely vote for you! And I hope you have an amazing timezone!

*crawls out of cave and GRASPS request*

Well hello there heh… if it isn’t my imaginary audience!

In the name of Science (A oneshot) - Rise!Donatello X Reader

Warnings: Possibly OOC? if you’ve seen the ROTTMNT episode “mind meld” then this will be fine In comparison

A/N: I know this isn’t exactly what was requested, but I hope it’s fun to read! I feel like I’m a full fledged fanfiction writer now that I have a love potion story 😭😭 I doubt this person even remembers their request anymore, but it was great inspiration nonetheless, thank you to them!

—

Here’s the thing, Donnie wasn’t exactly the easiest turtle to get a hold of. Not when he’s holed up in his room, working on the next big this or the breakthrough that.. at least, he always seemed to be, around you. Clearly he was avoiding you, right? Why would he be so boisterous and proud around his brothers and then suddenly become a recluse with you? April suggested he was simply not warmed up yet, however the little inkling of doubt in your brain strung into the long thread of yarn that wove a different tale.

No, he had to hate you. Maybe then it wouldn’t hurt so much. If he hated you, and didn’t simply not like you.

That’s why this was so conflicting.

He had been giving a demonstration, only to you, of something that he had created. (Of course, nobody else was home for him to rant to, naturally he would target the one person who happened to walk into his lab. This wasn’t special, you weren’t special, right? It was a matter of chance— don’t get your hopes up.)

The genius scientist seemed rather excited about this mysterious concoction, which he held in a glass vial. Something, something Oxytocin something, something heartrate— it was lovely just to see him ramble to YOU for once— not that this was special, of course.

At the last possible moment, he had offered you the vial, a proud smile on his face as he suggested you take a closer look at its contents. Unfortunately, you were a little… side tracked. It was heavier than you had expected— even if only by a few grams— that unfortunately didn’t matter when you were staring at the glass on the floor and the mysterious solution that had spilled everywhere including on the two of your feet. You were wearing shoes, but Donnie— well, he never wore shoes.

Donnie’s eyes widened as he looked up at you, horror etched in every wrinkle of his frown. You looked so apologetic, so, so very sorry that his only successful experiment was lying in pieces on the ground. Your eyes were so worried, so caring about what he had to say, and well…

“Shit.” Donnie threw his eyes in another direction, grabbing a rag from off the counter and squatting to try and get the solution off his skin. He hadn’t thought of the idea that it might work through topical use… Ergo! He was royally fucked.

“Donnie? Donnie seriously, if there’s any way I can make it up to you—“

He swallowed, looking back in your direction only to see your face again. How he hated the worry on your face, if it was any other situation he would have been angry and frustrated— but this was different. The solution was for you, anyway, what did it matter if you broke it? It was yours, and so was his heart the moment he laid eyes on you.

“Don’t—“ he coughed, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it, it only took me a few days to make.” He shrugged it off like it was nothing, the flames of his frustration strangely suppressed under the blush on his face.

Pretty? That was new. He’d never spoken that way before..

“Donnie?” Your head tilted, eyes widened.

He liked that look on you, the confusion of his behavior— it meant you were paying attention. “What? This?” He glanced down at the mess, which seemed like a puddle of nothing now, he stepped through it to get closer. “Don’t worry about that.”

You were starting to wonder what the experiment actually was…

Meanwhile, Donnie was wondering how important his mysterious bad boy image actually was..

“Don’t worry about it? Donnie, what did that liquid do?” Your voice was like music, if he were himself, he would have been upset with how little you had paid attention, but you were looking at him now, weren’t you? He’d be happy to re-explain!

“A neuron chemical enhancer.” He spoke in that way he always does, but upon seeing the confusion grow on your face, he found himself wanting to elaborate in your terms. He loved your terms. “I curated it specifically for… romance.” He continued to explain, getting a little closer to you now. It was subconscious, he didn’t even realize he was doing it, he simply was.

That’s when it clicked. A love potion, that’s what it was— he had chemically engineered a love potion — what for? Why did he make it? You weren’t sure, but you knew his sudden advances couldn’t be genuine.

And yet, as his hand grabbed your wrist, you found yourself.. yearning for this side of him.

“Are you hurt? Didn’t get hit by the glass, did you?” Donnie asked, despite the fact that he, himself was standing in the shards. Jesus— you knew he was made for war, but… Wasn’t that uncomfortable? You’d never seen him so worried about anything other than quadratic equations..

“No— no, Donnie— are you sure you’re quite yourself?” Your words were drowned out by the smile on his face, the sigh of relief in which he was so glad you weren’t hurt. He couldn’t bear if you were hurt by one of his experiments, it would crush him. “Oh I’m so glad!” He immediately lit up, the kind of expression you were sure only his brothers saw— if his brothers even looked hard enough to see it. It was the kind of look he gave when he entered a library, when he was showing off an invention. The way his eyes crinkled at the edges and he lightly squeezed your arm, “Well, now that that’s taken care of, how about we sit down so you can listen to more of my thoughts?” It was too much.

“Donnie, Donnie— I’m starting to get worried about you..” your hand rested on his shell— well, on his battle shell, and he frowned, his brows raised, “well, if you don’t want that, perhaps I could interest you in some other stimulating entertainment?” He gestured grandiosely back at his elaborate gaming setup, hoping to tempt you into gaming with him.

“No, not like that,” You almost wanted to laugh, he was suddenly so desperate to keep you in his lab. “You don’t normally act like this… this.. interested..”

Interested? Whatever could you possibly mean? He hadn’t the foggiest! “Surely you’re not declining?” He frowned, brows furrowed.

“No, I’m just saying,” You continued to try and explain your point, lightly pushing him away and watching as he descended into discomfort at the distance, “You’re never this touchy— you don’t touch at all, in fact. This all started with that experiment… are you sure you’re not…”

Donnie’s eyes searched your expression as you spoke. He was unable to make eye contact for more than a moment, but he blamed that on your superb features. “Not what?” He folded his arms, more and more upset as he was pushed away. “Do you suddenly dislike my presence?”

“Donnie, no..” you sighed at the soft shell’s… soft shell. “Are you sure you’re not under the influence of anything?”

The turtle laughed, no, scoffed right in your face. “Me? Influenced by something? Please.” Donnie ‘susceptible to hypnosis’ Hamato confidently got closer again, now convinced you weren’t avoiding him for the reasons he was worried about. “The only thing I am influenced by is the way you captivate me.”

He paused, a look of horror appearing back onto his face. Okay, he was seeing it now. Did that really fall out of his mouth? He… no, it couldn’t be— could it? He… he sounded like… like Leo! His hand covered his mouth.

It seemed his experiment had finally worn off.

“Oh no.” If it was possible, he went pale in the face, the confidence from earlier completely stripped away as he stood with only a racing heart and flushed face. “What happened? What did I do?” He speedily backed up, momentarily lapsing memory of the past five minutes. You immediately felt bad.

“Nothing, Don, are you okay?” Of course it wasn’t real, why would it be real? He was just embarrassed by how the solution affected him.

Donnie grimaced, remembering what had happened in the span of a few moments. Many emotions were coursing through him right now— discomfort, embarrassment, frustration… and disappointment. “I’m…” his furrowed brows softened, his expression shifted to remorse. “It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.” He folded his arms once again, his hands clenched into fists.

What did he mean by that? As a matter of fact…

“Donnie, what was the potion… originally for?” You took a step forward, over the spill on the floor. The terrapin huffed, “it’s not a potion. It’s not mystic— I made it myself!” He was caught between wanting to be haughty and proud of himself and feeling bad for.. well..

“And.. it was for you.” He sighed, fiddling with his elbow pads, “I thought I could win you over with the power of science— clearly my methods weren’t as successful as I would have hoped.” He didn’t feel guilty, no— rather, he was upset the potion.. sorry, SOLUTION hadn’t worked for a longer period of time. “It clearly wasn’t strong enough..” he frowned, frustration building back up in his chest, “I’ll have to start from scratch, perhaps I can up the concentration of the liquified gasses…” he turned to his work station, his notes, reading on as if you weren’t there.

“It was for… me?” It felt like a bomb exploding in your chest. He what!? For you? For why? You approached the desk, seeing as the lists of chemical compounds and experiments, diagrams of neuron pathways and the science of this thing called “romance.”

He was doing everything in the book BUT courting you.

“Donnie?” You placed his hand on his shoulder this time, to which he lifted up his goggles and met your gaze, “hm? Yes?” He didn’t seem at all phased by you figuring out his plan, rather he seemed more steadfast in his science.

“Was it for… you.. and me…? For…?”

Nod.

“You know this isn’t necessary, right?”

Pause.

“..What’s that supposed to mean?” He furrowed his brows, what were you saying now? He tapped his fingers on his desk, waiting eagerly for your reply. You took deep breaths, stilling your heart beneath his intense gaze.

“I already like you, Donnie.”

….

He stood from his desk, staring at you. His eyes held something unintelligible, searching your face. His brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape, you could swear he had stopped breathing.

……..

………..

“What?!”

—

A/N: considering Donnie had literally changed his brother’s brain chemistry in making them more like him, he is NOT above trying to change the thought processes of someone he likes LMAOOO

[tinyfandomknight]

You Were Always | Raphael Hamato

Pairing: Raphael Hamato x Reader Summary: Your date ended horribly. You walked home alone in the rain, sobbing, with a red mark on your arm and a story to keep from your green best friends (because they brutalize bad people, plus you were just embarrassed of your judgment.) Big Red, however, was tired of being your best friend -- and was waiting to tell you that. Themes & Warnings: protective!Raph, emotional love confessions in the rain, mentions of violence and possible carrying out of violence, swearing, slight fluff, comfort, Raph being angry bc he's always angry.

Having mutant turtle best friends was not how you thought your twenties would go. Not that you weren't thankful.

You just thought you'd be hanging out with your girls, going to bars, meeting dudes and finding your calling while studying in college. You thought it would be full of mini skirts, glitter, vodka and dreams. You were wrong. Completely wrong. Instead, you were walking home drunk from a bar alone, fell down an open manhole cover, and were caught by strong, green arms.

You screamed for a second. Passed out. When you woke up, you were on an old tattered couch with a giant rat staring at you, then looking at the four hulking turtle-human men in disdain.

That was how you met your boys.

It didn't take you long to love them. You loved Leo's courage, his leadership, his perfect advice every time you asked for it. He was more mature than most people you knew, though he hadn't experienced a full life that was similar to yours. You loved Donnie's intelligence, his excitement about his hobbies, how gentle he was, and how eager he was to teach you about things you'd never heard about. You loved Mikey's carefree spirit, the way he could always lift you up when you were feeling down, and his spectacular sense of humor. And most of all, you loved Raph.

You always attracted a bad boy. Always, always. Though it wasn't romantic, it was natural for you to spend the most time with the most rough-around-the-edges motherfucker there was. It was just how your life went. When you met Raph, he was tough to crack at first. He was a little grumpy about a new human joining their lives, adding to the chaos that April O'Neil originally brought -- but he warmed up to you until he was ultimately the closest to you out of the four.

At first, he didn’t speak to you much. Just kind of grunted when you came by. Didn’t laugh at your jokes. Barely made eye contact.

But you noticed the small things. Like how he always checked the tunnels before you left. How he stood between you and the sketchier parts of the lair. How he walked you out even when you said you didn’t need an escort.

You started staying longer when he was around. He started lingering in the doorway when you visited.

Eventually, that turned into regular late-night talks, usually on the couch, or while he bench pressed literal cars in the corner of the dojo. You’d sit with your legs crisscrossed, talking about dumb things: your classes, your horrible job, your wild roommates. He’d grunt or smirk, occasionally tossing in a sarcastic comment that made you snort into your soda. Sometimes he’d say something unexpectedly thoughtful, and it’d stick with you for days.

What no one told you about Raph was that he listened. He remembered everything -- the names of your old pets, the fact that your mom was sick, your weird favorite candy that no one else liked. He noticed when you wore makeup to hide stress, or when your laugh didn’t sound quite right.

When you got sick, he brought you soup and didn’t make eye contact the entire time. When you got dumped, he punched the punching bag until his knuckles bled and didn’t say why. When you succeeded, a passing grade, a new job, a clean day, he acted like it was your world championship.

And you?

You kept him soft.

You gave him space to breathe. Let him be quiet when he needed to be. Made him laugh when he didn’t want to. You saw past the temper and the walls and the scowl and found the stubbornly loyal, deeply sensitive, fiercely protective man underneath.

You made him feel safe.

It was always you and Raph -- shoulder to shoulder, sarcasm for armor, both pretending it wasn’t more.

Even if everyone else already knew it was.

The day you came into the lair talking about some date, Raph surprisingly held his tornado of anger, disgust, and jealousy inward. You never even noticed it. He wasn't sure how he'd managed to hide everything he was feeling -- maybe through the "keep calm" tactics that you'd taught him one day -- but he did it successfully. It wasn't like you'd never gone on a date before. You'd even gone on multiple dates with one chump, calling him your boyfriend before you eventually got tired of him questioning where you went every Friday night (movie night with the boys.)

“He's actually really nice,” you said, sucking the last few drops of a smoothie Mikey had made through a straw noisily. “He does concrete construction or whatever. He helped with the new sidewalk outside my university.”

The boys listened. Donnie sat on a stool, staring down at some little gadget he was working on, making noises of acknowledgement to show he was listening. Mikey did dishes, occasionally stopping to look at you. Leo sat politely, eyes on you.

And Raph? Raph stood next to you, arms crossed solidly, wishing he could run away and beat the shit out of something.

“Well, angelcakes, he sounds like a nice one.” Mikey commented, grinning. “But remember Mikey's rules for date safety! Never--”

You rolled your eyes.

“Never leave your drink uncovered, never--” You attempted to finish.

“--go anywhere alone, and if he orders milk on a first date, run,” Mikey finished, snapping a soapy finger toward you like a coach on game day.

You snorted. “He ordered beer last time, so I think we’re in the clear.”

“Still kinda weird,” Donnie mumbled, not looking up from his work.

“Beer’s weird?” you asked, lifting a brow.

“No,” Donnie said, adjusting a dial, “him.”

That earned a laugh from Mikey and even the smallest twitch of a smile from Leo.

But Raph? Raph didn’t smile. He didn’t speak.

He just stood there beside you, hulking and silent, jaw tight, arms crossed so hard his biceps flexed like steel cables under his skin.

You never noticed the tension, not really. You never noticed how his eyes flicked to your exposed collarbone, still dotted with the leftover shimmer of whatever perfume you wore. You never noticed how he inhaled, just once, like he could smell him on you. How he fought the urge to throw that smoothie cup across the room.

You never noticed because Raph didn’t let it show.

It wasn’t the first time you’d mentioned some dude. You’d brought up a few before. Guys who left you unsatisfied, frustrated, confused. He’d always been there after. Quietly listening. Driving you home. Standing behind you in line at the bodega, just in case the ex showed up and needed reminding. He made a public appearance a lot now, since Donnie had invented the projection watches -- they gave the boys human bodies, human personas for when they had to go up top and not raise hell. For when they needed to be up there for regular, human business.

This time was different.

This guy was new. He was “nice.” He had a job that involved strength. You smiled when you talked about him.

You stopped by again before you went on tonight's date. Your outfit would've made Raph blush if he wasn't so fucking pissed. You had a short, black dress on, just long enough to keep it classy but with enough leg showing to make you look sexy. Your hair was curled and tucked into a bun, ringlets falling in front of your face. Your makeup wasn't dramatic, it accentuated your naturally beautiful face. You wore heels, but they still didn't touch Raphael's height at all. After all, the man was like six foot seven.

You twirled in front of the boys, smiling brightly.

“How do I look? Is there something I'm missing?”

You were standing in front of him, spinning like some perfect little fever dream, the soft lighting of the lair catching the shimmer on your legs and the curve of your smile, asking him -- the guy currently gripping the edge of the counter so hard it might crack -- if you were missing something.

Yeah. You were missing something. Him.

He didn't say it. He couldn’t say it. Not with Leo watching you like a protective big brother. Not with Donnie adjusting his glasses and muttering something about “statistical likelihood of safety.” Not with Mikey wolf-whistling in the background like he was front row at a runway show.

“Daaaamn, baddie,” Mikey grinned, dramatically fanning himself with a pizza box. “You look like heartbreak in heels. Don’t kill the guy. Unless he deserves it.”

“I won’t,” you giggled, smoothing the sides of your dress. “He’s just taking me to dinner. Somewhere nice.”

“Nice how?” Leo asked cautiously.

You shrugged. “Little Italian place near the East River. It’s casual. Wine, candles… pasta, hopefully.”

Donnie didn’t look up. “Call me if anything seems off.”

“You’ll know before I do,” you said, tapping your phone. “I’m sharing my location with you already.”

“Smart girl,” Leo said with a nod.

Then your eyes flicked to Raph, still standing frozen by the fridge, knuckles white where they wrapped around the counter. You smiled at him -- warm and sweet, like you always did -- and tilted your head.

“Well? You didn’t say anything. I look okay?”

His throat was dry. His jaw clenched. He couldn’t look at your legs again, not when you were dressed like that for someone who wasn’t him.

You looked like temptation itself. You looked like his worst mistake waiting to happen. You looked like everything he couldn’t have.

So he gave a grunt. “Yeah. S’fine.”

“Just fine?” you teased.

He forced himself to look at your face. Just your face.

“You look great,” he muttered.

You beamed, completely unaware of the furnace behind his eyes. “Thank you, Raphie.”

Then you stepped close, too close, and reached up to fix the collar of his tank top with that same tenderness you always had. Your perfume hit him like a punch to the gut.

“You’re always honest with me,” you said softly. “That’s what I like about you.”

His jaw ticked. “Don’t like lyin’.”

You smiled. “I’ll be back late. Don’t wait up.”

Then you turned, heels tapping across the cement floor, and disappeared into the tunnels with a quick wave goodbye.

And Raphael?

Raphael stood there silently, watching the spot where you’d been, breathing slow through his nose like if he didn’t, something in him might snap.

Because it should’ve been him.

Taking you to dinner. Making you laugh over wine and pasta. Driving you home with your heels dangling from your hand, your lips gloss-smeared and smiling just for him.

Instead, he was stuck underground. Fuming. Wishing he'd just said it.

Wishing he’d told you the truth the moment you walked in, all sparkling eyes and lip gloss:

You didn’t look perfect.

You looked like his.

He groaned, wiping his huge hand across his forehead in frustration. Leo watched him carefully, pursing his lips. Donnie said nothing, as usual, and Mikey sensed the tension, tucking himself back into his corner where he was eating his pizza and playing his video games.

“She's your best friend. You should have just been honest,” Leo hummed carefully, as if not to set off the beast. “The truth'll come out one way or another.”

Raphael didn’t answer right away. He just stood there, still leaning against the counter, still seething under the surface like a volcano that had been too quiet for too long.

His hand dropped from his forehead, falling heavy against the edge of the counter with a dull thud. His jaw flexed. Once. Twice.

“Yeah,” he muttered finally, voice low and full of gravel. “Well. Too late now, ain’t it?”

Leo tilted his head, arms crossed, giving him that look. The big brother one. The patient, steady stare that somehow made Raph feel like he was still twelve and throwing punches in the dojo.

“It’s not too late unless you decide it is,” Leo said, voice calm, but firm.

Donnie didn't glance up from the device in his hand, but his voice carried from behind his glasses.

“She trusts you more than anyone. Statistically, emotional vulnerability paired with long-standing companionship has a higher chance of success than new--”

“Donnie, if you don't--” Raph snarled.

Donnie blinked. “Right. Not helping.”

Raph turned away from all of them. Walked a few paces across the lair like he might burn the energy off if he just moved enough. His fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, and his shell shifted with the tightness of his shoulders.

“She looked happy,” he said finally, bitter. “Talkin’ about him. Smilin’. Gettin’ all dressed up. Like he’s doin’ somethin’ for her that I can’t.”

Leo raised a brow. “Or maybe she was just excited someone finally asked. Doesn’t mean she picked him over you, Raph.”

“She did.”

“No,” Mikey chimed in from his corner without looking up. “She just doesn’t know you’re an option.”

That stopped Raph cold.

He stared across the lair, frozen in place, the words echoing in his skull.

She just doesn’t know you’re an option.

Because he’d never said it. Never given her the chance to choose him. Just stood beside her like a shadow while she cried over losers, complained about red flags, rolled her eyes at controlling texts and kissed cheeks that weren’t his.

He groaned again, dragging a hand down his face.

“What am I s’posed to do, huh? Run outta the shadows and confess like some kinda Hallmark hero? ‘Hey, surprise, I’ve been in love with you for years. Wanna ditch the dude who has fuckin' concrete all over his clothes and smells like Axe body spray?’”

Leo snorted. “Better than sulking in the sewers and letting someone else make her miserable.”

Mikey finally paused his game and looked over, eyes more serious than usual. “She’s not the kind of girl you can replace, bro. You know that.”

And Raphael did know that.

He knew it every time she laughed so hard she wheezed. Every time she fell asleep on the couch beside him, legs draped over his lap. Every time she saw him, really saw him, through the walls and the anger and the scars. She was his best friend. His anchor. The only soft place in a world that never gave him one. And he was gonna lose her to some prick in a hard hat who didn’t even deserve to breathe the same air as her.

Hours passed. No calls, no texts. But Raph had decided. No matter what happened, he had to tell the truth. He had to come out and say it before he fuckin' exploded.

You finally sent a text, telling them you were going home, the date had gone "fine."

He was going to tell you. Tonight. When you got home from your date. Then, you could tell him whether you wanted the concrete brained little shit -- or whether you wanted someone who'd actually love you. Who loved you. Now. Always. Since he'd let you break into his walls, touch the parts of him that had never had a hand on them.

He threw a hoodie on, grabbing his phone, and moved to leave. Twisting his watch, he became a vision of himself, not quite Raph, but Raph enough.

Still tall. Still hulking with muscle. A buzz cut with a red bandana covering it, tattoos all over his skin, the same intimidating green eyes. He was hot actually, which you'd admitted when you first saw the projection. All of them were. Raph, though.. It truly did him justice.

Although secretly, you'd always thought Raph was hot. Projection or not. It was what originally drew you into him.

Raph heard Leo's voice from the corner of the lair, the dojo.

“Good luck.”

The rain was the first thing he noticed. He welcomed it, letting it pour down onto him in calming waves. He walked to your house, opting not to take the shell-raiser. After all, if things went badly, he'd probably find some dirty criminal to pummel.

He reached your apartment, sitting on your front steps under the overhanging roof. He pulled a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it, puffing on it slowly as he waited for you to approach.

What would he even say? What would he do if you told him to fuck off? He didn't let the nerves dissuade him. It needed to be said, bad results or not.

It was about five more minutes before he saw your silhouette in the rain. You were small, far smaller than him, of course. He knew it was you by the way you walked. You were walking, walking, walking, he was waiting to see your face through the waves of water. When he finally did, his eyebrows furrowed.

Mascara stained your cheeks. Crying. You were crying.

You walked awkwardly, the closer you got. Your hand clutched your arm.

Then, your e/c eyes lifted. You saw him.

Quickly, you wiped your face with one arm, acting like nothing had ever happened. Then, the hand quickly came back down to cover your arm -- Raph wasn't close enough to see what you were covering. You reached Raph, looking at him in confusion.

“Raph? What are you doing here in the rain--”

He didn’t answer at first.

His eyes were locked on you, all of you. The ruined makeup. The limp in your walk. The tight grip you had on your arm, like you were trying to hold yourself together.

You were hurting. That much was obvious. And trying to hide it from him.

From him.

He stepped forward without thinking, eyes narrowing. His jaw clenched, and his voice dropped low, rough.

“What happened.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the edge in his tone.

“Nothing,” you said quickly. Too quickly. “I’m fine. Really.”

“You’re not fine,” he said, stepping in closer. His eyes dropped to your arm, the one you were still guarding like a shield. “What’s under your hand?”

“Raph, it’s nothing, I swear--”

He was in front of you now, towering over you, not in a way that scared you, never in a way that scared you, but in a way that said he knew. That he wouldn’t let it slide.

“Move your hand.”

You hesitated. Looked up at him.

He wasn’t yelling. He wasn’t huffing and puffing, or pacing, or growling with his fists balled up like he usually did when something pissed him off.

No. He was quiet.

And that was worse.

“No. Raph, please, I am perfectly--”

“Move your fuckin' hand, shorty, now.”

“Raph.”

His voice cracked through the rain like thunder.

“You want me to move it?”

It wasn’t a threat. It wasn’t violence. It was a promise, for your own good. A promise that you'd heard before. He'd make shit happen.

You flinched, not because you were scared, but because you knew what was coming. You knew once he saw it, really saw it, there’d be no stuffing the rage back into the bottle. You hesitated just a second longer.

And then you moved your hand.

Raph’s eyes dropped immediately.

Silence.

The bruise was ugly. Purple and red, already deepening, shaped like thick fingers curled into the soft skin of your arm. It told a story you hadn’t even finished living yet.

He didn’t speak.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t blink.

Just stared.

Then his chest rose -- slow, steady, dangerous.

His jaw flexed, his nostrils flared, and his eyes, those sharp green eyes, burned.

“Motherfucker,” he muttered, voice low and venomous.

You reached for him. “Raphael--”

You couldn't quite get him in your grip, just the fabric of his sweatshirt in a small hand. It was wet, soaked with rain, but you managed to keep your grip. He turned towards you, lip almost curled into a snarl. Anger heated the air up -- could've boiled the rain.

“You said the date was fine. Fuckin' fine. Look at your--” he cut himself off, taking a breath and looking up at the sky. “You lied to me. Why would you lie to save that waste of space?” He hissed, turning completely towards you.

You flinched, not from fear, never from him, but from the sheer weight of his rage.

The rain kept falling, soaking through your clothes, matting your hair to your face, but none of it mattered. Not with Raphael standing in front of you like a storm barely restrained, fists clenched, shoulders squared, breathing like he’d just fought ten men and still wasn’t done.

“I wasn’t protecting him,” you said quickly, gripping tighter to his hoodie. “I was protecting you.”

That stopped him.

His jaw twitched. His eyes snapped to yours, sharp as glass and just as fragile beneath the surface.

“I knew what you’d do, Raph,” you whispered, voice trembling. “And I didn’t want to lose you to a cell or a manhunt or -- or something worse. I didn’t want to see you destroy yourself for me.”

He looked at you for a moment.. Then laughed. Bitterly.

“Don't worry about it. Ain't no motherfucker on this earth that's gonna touch you and walk away fine. Whether you feel bad or not,” he said. He towered over you, trying to force his green eyes away from the nasty injury on your arm. “I'd burn this city down for you if ya asked me to. I'm gonna kill this fuckin' guy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. Not because you didn’t believe him, no, you absolutely believed him, but because you could feel it. You could feel the truth in his voice, in every clenched muscle, in the way his words shook with restraint.

“Raph--”

“I mean it,” he snapped, stepping closer, close enough that you could feel the heat rolling off his chest. His projection shimmered faintly in the rain, struggling to keep up with the fury boiling just beneath his skin. “I don’t care if I gotta rip the fuckin’ streets up brick by brick, he’s gonna learn.”

You reached for him again, laying your hand gently against the front of his soaked hoodie. His heart was hammering underneath, furious, panicked, wild.

“I’m okay now,” you whispered. “I’m with you.”

He shook his head.

“Not good enough,” he growled. “You should never have to feel scared. Not when you got me. Not when you been right here in front of me this whole time and I’ve been too chickenshit to say what I really feel.”

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

His jaw flexed again, rain trailing down his face like it was trying to cool him off. He took a breath, deep and shaky, and looked down at you like you were the only thing tethering him to the earth.

“Shoulda been me.”

“W-What?”

He looked down at you still, his hand traveling down to pull your wet strap back up over your shoulder.

“Shoulda been me. Takin' you out, now that we can go up top,” he said, his voice gravelly. “Shoulda been me walkin' you home. Kissin' you at your front door step. Shoulda been me you were gettin' all pretty for.”

You stared, eyes wide and glassy.

“You were walkin’ around in that dress, hair done up all nice…smilin’ about some guy who didn’t even deserve a hello from you,” he muttered, eyes locked on yours, voice just shy of breaking. “And I stood there like a fuckin’ idiot, pretendin’ it didn’t kill me.”

His hand slid up, gently brushing your cheek with his thumb, rainwater tracing the movement.

“I ain’t ever felt more useless than watchin’ you leave tonight, knowin’ I wasn’t the one takin’ you out. Knowin’ I let someone else touch you ‘cause I was too much of a coward to say somethin’. And now,” he hissed, “I gotta kill the stupid fucker. Cuz he laid his hands on the girl I love.”

You didn’t even flinch at the words, the girl I love, but your breath caught like a rope had cinched around your chest and pulled tight.

The rain still fell in steady sheets, soaking you both to the bone, but neither of you noticed. Not really. Not with the confession hanging in the air between you, burning hotter than the storm around you.

“Raph…” your voice was soft. Barely a whisper. “Please.”

His gaze flickered, wild for a second, like he’d just realized he’d said it out loud. Like the truth had broken out of him without permission. But once it was out, he didn’t backpedal. He didn’t retreat.

He stepped in even closer, your bodies almost touching, his massive frame shielding you from the worst of the wind.

“I love you,” he said, voice low and rough, thick with emotion. “I love you. You think I’ve been watchin’ you all this time just to be your backup plan? Some guy you crash on when the rest of the world sucks?”

“No,” you breathed, shaking your head quickly. “No, I never thought that.”

“I been in love with you since the second you looked at me like I wasn’t just a monster. Since you laughed at my dumb jokes, shared your food, yelled at me when I got too hot-headed. You see me, and it scared the shit outta me.”

A warm tear ran down your face. His thumb caught that too.

“You're too good for this world. Too good for me. Too good for him. And even though you ain't mine, I'll happily shit-stomp any man that crosses you.”

You let out a soft, broken sound, somewhere between a laugh and a sob, as your hand reached up to cup his face, rough jaw and all.

“But I am yours,” you whispered. “I’ve been yours, Raph. This whole time. Was just too stupid to see it.”

His breath hitched, just for a second, and his hands flexed on your waist, like he couldn’t believe he was actually hearing the words. Like maybe the rain had messed with his head, or the universe was playing some cruel joke.

But your eyes were honest. Open. No walls, no filters, no fear. Just you, standing there in the storm, bruised and soaked and choosing him.

“You’re-- you wanna be?” he asked, voice cracking, like a kid afraid to hope.

You nodded, fingers curling at the back of his neck, drawing him closer. “Yes. I was just too scared to ruin us by saying it. I didn't want to lose you, Raphael. You're all I have. The only thing worth it.”

A beat of silence passed, thick, electric, before he pressed his forehead to yours with a low, aching groan.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he breathed, voice hoarse, reverent. “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

And then he kissed you.

Hard. Fierce. Real.

He kissed you like he’d been holding back for years, because he had. His hands tangled in your hair, one arm wrapping around your lower back, lifting you off the pavement like your feet didn’t deserve to be on the same ground as the man who hurt you. His lips were warm despite the cold, pressed firm and sure to yours like he had no plans of letting you forget how long he’d loved you from the sidelines.

When he pulled back, you were both breathless. His voice was low and shaky when he said:

“If you’re mine… then you don’t ever gotta deal with this shit again. No more cheap dates, no more fake shit, no more bruises you try to hide.”

You swallowed, tears welling fresh again.

“Okay.”

“I mean it,” he said. “I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you loved. Proper. The way you always shoulda been.”

You rested your head on his chest, listening to the steady, thundering beat of his heart under soaked fabric.

“I know,” you whispered.

And he just held you tighter.

Because you were his.

And now, finally, he was yours too.

BONUS:

However, your date, though you thought Raph forgot about him.. did not escape retribution.

A couple nights after the incident, your date, Todd, stood alone. He was sweeping the new concrete, cleaning up after a week of work, headphones dangling from his ears. He hummed a tune, staring down at the pavement, admiring his work.

Didn't even notice the two hulking shadows approaching from behind him -- 'til his headphones were ripped right out.

“What the--”

He turned, startled, just in time to see something big and orange spin toward him. Todd took a full-on roundhouse kick to the chest from Michelangelo and went flying into a pile of sandbags like a cartoon.

“Yikes, bro,” Mikey said, cracking his knuckles. “You can put your hands on women but you can't take a hit yourself? Bummer.”

Raph stepped forward, massive arms crossed, that black hoodie of his soaked from rain and rage. “So you’re Todd, huh?”

Todd wheezed, struggling to sit up. “W-What the hell?! Who the hell are you?!”

Mikey grinned wide. “Let’s just say we’re the after-party to that date you fumbled so bad.”

Todd blinked, confused, then scowled. “This is about that chick? She said it was fine. What, you two her brothers or somethin’?”

Raph’s jaw ticked. “Somethin’.”

Then he grabbed Todd by the collar and lifted him off the ground like a rag doll. “She said it was fine,” he repeated mockingly, eyes narrowing. “Right after she came home cryin’ with a bruise in the exact shape of your grubby little hand. Sound fuckin’ familiar?”

Todd squirmed. “I-I didn’t mean--she was getting mouthy, I just--”

That was all he got out before Raph slammed him into a cement pillar, holding him there like a schoolyard bully from hell.

“I should break every bone in your slimy little body,” Raph growled. “But I promised her I wouldn’t kill you.”

Todd whimpered. “Then what--what are you gonna do?!”

Mikey stepped up beside Raph with a sweet, sunny grin… and a bright pink backpack.

“Oh, we’re gonna teach you, bro.”

Cut to:

Todd, thirty minutes later, is tied up Spider-Man style with neon pink jump rope, suspended upside down from the scaffolding. Mikey had drawn flowers and hearts all over his face in washable marker. His pants were missing (they were now duct-taped to the top of a flagpole nearby), and his shirt had been swapped with a hot-pink crop top that read: “I Cry When Girls Yell.”

A chalk sign was propped up beneath him. It read:

“Hi, I’m Todd. I’m a big, dumb, concrete-throwing jerk who hits girls. My biceps are fake. Don’t be like me. This could happen to you.”

“Next time,” Raph said, crouching down beside him, voice calm but terrifying, “you keep your hands to yourself. Or I’ll let Mikey use the glitter glue.”

Todd whimpered, nodding frantically, tears dripping down his inverted face.

“Glitter. Never comes out,” Mikey added with a wink.

With that, the brothers disappeared into the night, high-fiving as they vanished into the shadows.

Lesson taught. Message delivered.

And Todd? He never went near another woman without a very polite tone -- and two feet of personal space.

You, however, saw it in the news the next day.

The headline read:

“Masked Vigilantes Hijack Construction Site to Publicly Shame Harasser -- Chalk Sign Warns: ‘Don’t Be Like Me. This Could Happen to You.’”

You groaned, rolling your eyes.

“Raphael Hamato! Come here! Now!”

You heard the unmistakable sound of his boots thudding down the stairs before Raph appeared at the entrance to your room, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah, baby?” Raph said, leaning against the doorframe, all casual confidence. His smirk widened as he took in your unimpressed expression. “You, uh… saw the news, huh?”

You held up the newspaper, shaking it at him. “This was your idea of ‘handling it quietly’?!”

Raph shrugged, pushing off the doorframe and sauntering into the room. “Eh, we didn’t kill him. That counts as quiet for me.”

You groaned again, tossing the paper onto the bed. “Raph, you literally left a chalk sign. And Mikey drew on his face.”

“Yeah, and?” Raph flopped onto the bed beside you, stretching out like a smug cat. “Dude’s lucky that’s all we did. You shoulda seen the other ideas Mikey had-- we didn't even use the glitter.”

You shot him a glare, but the corner of your mouth twitched. “You’re impossible.”

Raph grinned, reaching out to tug you closer. “Nah, just thorough.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, voice dropping into that low, dangerous tone that still sent shivers down your spine. “And now everyone knows what happens when some punk puts his hands on you. He ever comes near you again, they ain't gonna find his body.”

You huffed, but you couldn’t fight the warmth spreading in your chest. “...You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Raph agreed, unrepentant. “But I gotta make sure my girl's taken care of.”

You sighed, finally letting yourself smile as you leaned into him. “...Thanks, Raph.”

He squeezed you tighter, pressing another kiss to your bare shoulder, just above the strap of your tanktop. “Anytime, shorty.”

(And if, later that night, you may have doodled a little heart next to the newspaper clipping before tucking it into your desk drawer? Well. That was your business.)

[sanktjosiah]

So with the upcoming Mighty Nein animated series I thought I'd compose a list of moments I'd like to see in the show. These do not include Big Emotional Moments or Important Plot Points because then the list would be way too long and those moments should have a list of their own if anything, this is really just a collection of my personal favorite smaller moments that I find funny, cool or endearing.

My wishlist of The Mighty Nein moments for the animated series in no particular order (spoilers for the whole campaign):

- Sprinkle being shown surviving in the background of M9's shenanigans Scrat from Ice Age style

- Jester's Sendings having the exact same style, tone and energy as they had in the campaign

- also getting to actually see the reactions of the people on the other side

- The Ring of Fire Resistance

- that moment when Beau gets swallowed by the remorhaz and Jester kills it with a ✨flavored✨ Guiding Bolt

- The M9 actually getting to meet Verin this time

- Yasha using Skingorger as a snowboard

- that moment when the M9 teleports to Rosohna in bathrobes and Caleb later uses Seeming to make it look like everyone but Fjord is wearing their normal clothes

- that moment when they're trying to water ski to get within spellcasting range of the dragon turtle and Caleb slips and bounces off of the water like a skipping stone

- The Bone Flute

- Caleb wearing octopus-Frumpkin on his head during the entire tense conversation with Fjord in Dashilla's lair

- Sheepleb

- Caleb turning into a T-Rex on a boat

- Capeleb grabbing Essek and showing him in the clerics' faces like a broken doll demanding him to be fixed

- Caduceus bitchslapping the boat

- Molly's "plan" on infiltrating the hospital

-Jester's hamster unicorn Spirit Guardians getting more and more buff as she levels up

- The Bad Luck Bandits

- Fjord nearly getting killed by a turtle

- Allura calling Yussa a fool after he gets trapped in the Happy Fun Ball

- M9 asking Halas if he has a sex golem

- that moment in the Cognouza fight when Jester hits Lucien with a giant egg dick that she wills into existence

- "Marius, have you killed anyone yet?"

- the M9 girls getting drunk and tattooed while the boys are just chilling and eating fish and chips

- Essek's stress hot whisky cocoa

- *sigh* "Do you have a bucket?"

- also Caduceus peer pressuring Astrid and Eadwulf into gardening

- the M9 discussing illegal shit in front of Bryce

- Veth and Ottis tetris folding themselves trying to hide behind Fjord

- Beau dumping drugs in the monster baby's stomach

- Beau being trailed by the zhelezo while trying to be inconspicuous with a cart full of fireworks

- Tracy

- Tusk Love both being given by Jester to various people to read or just randomly popping up throughout the show in unexpected places

- Yasha "casting" Message to talk to Veth

- the fey cats getting progressively more and more exasperated at Caleb's elaborate requests

- that one dragonborn who risked blowing up his cover and went to a party because he was bored in his exile

- The Gentleman franticaly cleaning up and hiding the illegal shit in his hideout before Marion shows up

- Yasha being sucked into the upside-down waterfall at Rumblecusp and jettisoned into the air Looney Tunes style

- The Chair™

- Fluffernutter

- not a single one of Essek's jokes landing

- Essek bringing up his fists at the frost giants while slowly backing up into a corner

- Beau punching Artagan in the face

- Fjord trying to intimidate a forest and getting eaten by a plant immediately afterwards

Feel free to add your own!

[bettsfic]

Betts. how do I stop feeling jealous of everyone and everything and just focus on myself? I'm tired of being comprised of nothing but envy.

story time:

so i was recently at Millay, which is one of the top artist residencies in the country. they have an acceptance rate of something like 3%. when i was shown my room, there was a packet of all the residents' artist bios. i sat down and read through all of them. most of them were like half a page in length, single-spaced, listing out accomplishments i could never dream of. one artist had won a guggenheim. one author had published 12 books. another author published her first book at 19 years old. these were people who were extremely well accomplished and respected in their fields.

and we all became very good friends!

and then there was me. my bio was 3 sentences listing out a couple short publications and awards and other residencies i'd done. and my honest to god first thought was, "wow, the jurors must have really liked my writing to have accepted me among all these great artists."

and my second thought was, "that's the healthiest thing i have ever thought."

i had no jealousy of their accomplishments. even though my career hadn't even begun compared to theirs, i didn't attend dinner that night with any impostor syndrome. and that confirmed for me that i had grown out of whatever place i used to be in as a person, where i was basically a raw wound wrapped in barbed wire. everything hurt me and i hurt everything in return.

jealous feelings come from an intense need of external approval, but as i've mentioned in other asks, approval and validation is a well that gets filled over time. at our introductory dinner that night, i didn't talk about my work in the hope of convincing everyone i deserved to be there, which was what i would've done a few years before. instead we all ended up talking about a TV show. the most highbrow place i've ever been in my life, and we're getting wine drunk and discussing at length a cheesy discovery channel reality series. the guggenheim winner: loves box turtles. the guy who's published 12 books: his favorite movie is Spirited Away. the girl who published a book at 19: reads One Direction fanfic. the well-lauded poet: old school tumblrina.

actually, 4 out of 7 of us read fanfic and we had some great conversations about it. sometime i'll tell you about introducing the co-director of the residency to AO3.

when you think of the most accomplished and successful writer you've ever read, remember that they are, at the very core of their being, a nerd. and if you were to eat dinner with them, you would, with enough polite inquisitiveness, be able to unlock the goofy side of them that binges Property Brothers.

so that was the big change for me, i think. i started asking a lot of questions. i stopped talking and i started listening. it seems counterintuitive that admitting to not knowing stuff shows confidence, but it does. pretending you know stuff is what looks insecure. i think for me, i put so much of myself in my work, i wanted my work to be lauded so i could feel accomplished, and feeling accomplishment would let me believe i deserved to exist. but over time, i've reframed that mentality. my work is a thing that exists beyond me and is private to those who read it. it comes from me, but it is not me. what i am is just the person i am, and my life is a series of moments i choose for myself, and i am allowed to exist.

even sending this ask shows that you've begun filling your well. it takes someone who's already come a long way to realize jealousy isn't the status quo and is a feeling to be overcome. and you can overcome it. you can reach a place where you have enough success that other people's success has nothing to do with you, and you're free to just be happy for them. and when you read work that's better than yours you feel joy at learning something new.

so put your work into the world and let it be rejected. you'll rack up a couple wins or close calls, and those will give you energy to be rejected some more. and eventually you'll be rejected so much that rejection doesn't feel like anything, and you will have won enough to realize your work has a place in the world, and that place is no bigger or smaller than anyone else's. your work is allowed to exist simply as it is, and you are allowed to exist simply as you are.

[willoryn]

Just a fun thought I had of Reader and Lucifer playing a little game of chase-

You are running down one of the long corridors of the hotel. Giggling triumphantly and clutching your prize in your hands. You held Lucifer's white coat to your chest as you sprinted, making sure you ran through hallways and interconnected rooms that you knew were empty. There was no way he was going to find you.

You didn't stop until you found a room that looked to be a lounge area of sorts. Once inside, you closed the large double doors behind you and walked over to a nearby mirror on the wall.

After delicately unfolding the article of clothing that you swiped from the king, you smoothed out the wrinkles on it and held it in front of you as if trying to imagine what it would look like on you. No fully curious, you shrugged and started to slip your arms into the sleeves.

As you busied yourself with that, you were completely unaware of the small white snake that was slithering across the carpet towards you from behind...

You looked over yourself in the mirror when you finished adjusting the coat. Smiling to yourself proudly and taking the tall collars in towards your face. The warmth and scent of your beloved enveloped you completely. You closed your eyes and let his essence wash over you... imagining being in his arms in this moment and burying your face in his neck-

"It looks wonderful on you, darling~"

A voice behind you made you jump and spin around in an instant, almost making you trip over yourself. You came face to face with a smiling, very coatless, Lucifer.

Despite the blush that had now erupted over your cheeks from being found, you still managed to huff and cross your arms. "Hmph... you cheated."

"Nuh uh! We never agreed on no shape-shifting." He said, crossing his own arms at you. "But it did take some time to find you. You are very quick, sweetheart. Now, I believe you have something that belongs to me~"

You smiled and backed away from him, folding your hands behind your back cutely. "Yeah, well, you haven't caught me yet. So, the coat is still mine."

He stepped towards you, matching your pace. "Oh, I've already caught you, angel. There's no where else for you to go~"

Just then, you grabbed him by the shoulders, spun him around so that he was against the wall, and pulled him in for a deep, passionate kiss. He let out a moan of surprise into your mouth as you pressed your body up against his. Your tongue swiped his lips, asking for access. And when he finally granted it to you, parting his lips, the two of you fought for control. Your breaths and moans mingled together as you drank eachother in. Lucifer became completely intoxicated by the taste of you. And the friction between your bodies only elicited even more groans from him. He fell completely to your mercy and let you take control, practically going limp under you.

You pulled away to see him looking completely delirious and drunk from your kiss. A wave of pride swelling inside you. It almost broke your heart when you denied to give him more, something he so clearly wanted by the way he leaned towards your lips again. But you placed a finger on his mouth and smiled. Your eyes narrowing on him devilishly.

"Two can play that game, babe~" you said. Lucifer furrowed his brow in confusion.

"...huh?"

You giggled and jumped away from him, sprinting back towards the door and then out into the hallway.

The last thing you remember hearing is a distant chuckle from the king.

"When I find you, turtle dove, the coat isn't the only thing I'm removing from you~"

[pixiesfz]

more alexia fics please xx

your wish is my command

this was supposed to be a blurb but I had way too much fun writing reader and mapi's dialogue.

I actually hate this one, I don't like what I've done here.

ninja turtles a.p

plot: You try and convince your girlfriend to dress up for halloween

warnings: drunk idiots, reader is a little bit whiny but she is drunk, slight angst

You sat down next to Mapi on the beanbags near the back when the conversation first started, you were scrolling on tik tok with her head over your shoulder when the four turtles showed up.

"I remember watching them!" she beamed with a smile, her drink in her hand as you had your now empty glass next to your leg.

"si me too!" you said with the same enthusiasm "Who was your favorite?" Mapi asked "Mikey obviously, he loves pizza, I love pizza" you said with a drunk grin "Mine was the red one- RAPH!" she yelled when she remembered his name.

"Is that because you're very aggressive and don't listen to orders"

You gasped and closed your mouth when Mapi turned to you "I said that out loud didn't I?" you whispered

"yep," Ingred said before placing a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek "you're right though".

You laughed in Mapi's face before the short-haired girl placed her head down.

You went to get up and get your 6th or 7th drink- you couldn't remember before Mapi slapped your leg "Ow Mapi!" you scolded and she covered your mouth "Shoosh I don't want Alexia murdering me" she whispered.

You licked her hand.

"Ew y/n!"

"Then don't slap me" you whispered back aggressively and Mapi rolled her eyes "I had an idea"

"It couldn't wait?" you asked "no, I'm drunk my mind runs quickly" she rambled and you groaned "what is it?" you asked, impatient as you wanted another drink.

"We should dress up as the turtles for Halloween!" she yelled, you gasped "YES!"

heads turned to you both as you yelled but they just rolled their eyes and went back to their conversations as they realized it was only the two 'trouble makers' on the team.

"okay" Mapi rubbed her hands together "me, Raph, you, Mikey and who will be the purple one who's smart?"

You turned your head to the team and cocked your head "nobody is smart here" you stated "okay well who is the least dumb?" Mapi reworded.

You thought about it as your eyes squinted at the redhead who sat next to Jana "Keira" you decided and Mapi nodded "I was gonna say Lucy"

"Her brains are in her abs"

Mapi shrugged before running up to the red-haired English woman who screamed out of fright when she grabbed her and dragged her over to the both of you.

"I'll test her" you decided "Keira can you get me another drink?"

"No, you've had enough"

"She's smart!"

Mapi pulled Keira down onto the beanbag next to you as you both turned to her "Do you want to dress up with us?" Mapi asked and Keira rolled her eyes as you both gave her puppy eyes.

"Please" you both begged before the English woman finally snapped "fine!" you and Mapi both cheered "Now" Mapi said "Who will be the blue one, the leader"

Your head snapped to your girlfriend who sat on the table, already looking at you.

She got up as soon as she saw your stare and you ran after her

"Ale!"

"No" she deadpanned as she walked away "Are you going to drive home without me?" you yelled "If it means I'm not going to be apart of whatever that is then yes" she replied as you finally reached her and jumped on her back, now away from everyone.

"You don't even know what it is" you pouted "you and Mapi thought of it, I know it is bad," she said "Well if you must know we are planning a Halloween costume" you bragged and Alexia dropped you back to your feet.

"el cariño that is a big fat no from me" she sighed before placing a kiss on your forehead "You don't even know the costume Ale" you wined and the Captain brought your body to hers "I don't dress up" she stated

You groaned, breaking away from your girlfriend "you're no fun" Alexia scoffed "I am a lot of fun"

"Then dress up with us!"

"no"

"Alexia" you whined before the girl picked you up, making you squeel "you're drunk, we're going home".

The whole car ride was filled with questions and excuses for her to dress up with your friends but her answer was still the same.

"I will never have sex with you again" You smirked "You will fold that is not the first time you have made that promise" Alexia smirked as you slapped her hand off her thigh "well I'm serious this time" you declared.

Even with an extreme hangover the next morning, you kept your promise, avoiding the blonde girl at all costs. "y/n are you really going to do this?" Alexia asked as you pulled away from her as she kissed you goodnight.

"I don't know are you still sure you don't want to dress up with us?"

"I am sure"

"then yes I am really going to do this" you shrugged before getting under your sheets.

The date was October 30th when Alexia caught you in your ensuite bathroom holding your costume in your hand, another one on the bench as you facetimed Mapi.

"y/n I spend actual money on these are you sure Alexia won't dress up" the Spanish girl asked through the phone and you nodded "she really doesn't, I even said no sex until she does-"

"I don't want to hear that, you can keep that to yourself" the girl gagged but you didn't laugh "I know it's not a couple costume but I at least thought she would want to celebrate the holiday with me but she's not dressing up at all"

"Don't read into y/n/n" Mapi told you as Alexia watched you through the crack of the door, you looked beautiful in your pajamas but your face was looking down to the costumes, upset "I thought I could convince her" you mumbled "sorry Maria" you said, using the defenders real name.

Alexia turned away from the door.

'I at least thought she would want to spend the holiday with me'

Your words struck her when she realized what her stubbornness had done to you secretly.

You ended the call with Mapi before storing the costumes under the sink and got water and splashed your face with it, hopefully cooling down the red your face had flushed out of embarrassment that you couldn't even get your girlfriend into a costume.

Was she embarrassed to be with you like that?

When you went to bed that night Alexia kissed you on your forehead "Goodnight, I love you" she said as you nodded "you too" you mumbled before pretending to fall asleep.

Alexia watched as you closed your eyes, her mind wondering about in stress, she didn't want to make you feel unwanted she just didn't want to be made fun of in front of her friends.

She didn't know how you did it, she didn't know how you were so open and confident about your decisions and your actions when she hardly ever did anything that put her out in the open, only when asked or when being pushed into the spotlight.

Even then she looked out for you in support, you always helped her in public situations, telling her how good she was and how proud of her she was.

She realized she hadn't done the same for you.

She knew what she had to do.

You were getting prepared for the team Halloween team bonding night, opting not to wear a costume as you laid out your clothing on the bed and got into the shower, you hummed in relaxation as the hot water hit your back as Alexia was in the room next door, looking up the names to the Ninja turtles before giving up and texting Mapi, asking if she was supposed to be the blue or Orange one.

When you walked outside of the bathroom to get changed you were not prepared for the sight of your girlfriend tying the laces of her black boots as she was holding a blue headband in between her teeth.

"Ale?"

Alexia's head popped up "You were supposed to take five more minutes in the shower like you always do," she said, ignoring your smile that grew

"You're in the costume" you pointed out, walking up to Alexia "Yeah, and you are in nothing but a towel, get changed," she said as if nothing weird was happening.

"Alexia are you okay, do you have a fever?" you asked smugly as you felt her head with the palm of your hand which she grabbed softly "I am fine, I just want to spend this holiday with my girlfriend"

You smiled before turning your girlfriend's face to yours bringing her into a kiss and pulled back "Did you do this for sex?"

"no but it is a bonus" Alexia smirked, pulling you in for a second kiss "you didn't tell me we were dressing up as brothers" she said after you leaned out.

"Ale, don't make it weird".

[kilojulietsierra]

The first time Garcia goes to Sophie’s class room she is APPALLED at state of the first aid kit. She immediately goes out and gets every sort of bandage and colorful Band-Aid because “kids are little drunk people but should have fun bandaids”

She eventually makes her a little go bag like a Jack and Sam have.

But when Garcia has a day off and is invited to Sophie’s class for a show and tell, Garcia gets even more warm fuzzies like ‘I can see us having a family’

—

P.S. Jack would make a stupid comment to Emory like “ I need you to find a man soon, it’s starting to look like you all are sister wives” 

Bro, I had the same exact thought with the sister wives thing 🤣 get out of my head! But also thank you so much for this, it’s adorable! 🥰 💚

~~~~

- Sophie had got the wild hair to rearrange her classroom over the long weekend and Yolanda was happy to help.

- “Oh my god the chairs are so tiny!” Yolanda went straight to the kidney bean shaped table and sat in one of the chairs laughing hysterically

- It’s a little weird for Sophie, In the best way, to see her girlfriend who spent her workdays with her hands literally inside people, covered in blood, move through her brightly colored and eclectic preschool classroom. Stapling up colorful paper and hanging up the bubble shaped letters and glitter covered projects.

- “Motherfucker” Sophie laughed because yeah, there she is lol “do you have bandaids somewhere? Hate to bleed on Santa Clause”

- When Yolanda picked up the dingy white, plastic case she scowled at it. Like it might give her tetanus. “What’s this.” “First aid kit. Aren’t you supposed to be a doctor” “Sophie, this thing is older than I am” Yolanda opens the one remaining latch, “it might be older than abbot”

- That night Garcia gets on Amazon and shops around but she doesn’t find what she’s really looking for. So, she decides to take matters into her own hands.

- Is it a toolbox? Yes? But it’s practical and she orders a literal shit ton of doctor themed stickers for the kids to decorate it.

- Does it actually have everything Sophie could ever possibly need in it? Absofuckinglutely. Does she text abbot with a little twist in her stomach to ask what kind of tourniquet to buy that fits children? Yes. Does he respond with a link right away? Of course he does.

- Does she spend the next half hour adding every box of colorful, sparkly, themed bandaids she can to cheer herself up? Also yes. Captain America, SpongeBob, Batman, bluey, strawberry shortcake, Care Bears, paw patrol, hot wheels, camo, Pink camo, rainbows, teenage mutant ninja turtles and ghostbusters. Some characters she doesn’t even recognize but they seem popular so she adds them too.

- Sophie tears up a little bit when she gives it to her which kind of scares the shit out of Yolanda. Sophie just laughs, “good tears babe, good tears” and pulls her into a hug.

- She gets a picture the next Monday of the results of a dozen 4 year olds let loose with stickers and free will. The medical kit is COVERED in little stethoscopes and red crosses, smiley faces and painful faces, ekg lines, ambulances, wheelchairs and crutches, all of it.

- Garcia also decides to put together a little go bag. Just in case. The bag itself (a LV Montsouris) may cost more than all of the gear in it but she justifies it because she got it slightly used.

- Sophie is too scared to just leave it in her car though, after a weekend of arguing about how much it cost to begin with, so they compromise. (Look at them go!) they put the fear in a regular old backpack that does stay in her car, She keeps the bag and uses it for work, which is still scary with all the little kid fingers, but Yolanda insists they’re made to be used. It still has a small first aid pouch inside put together by Garcia of course.

- Emery nearly chokes on her cafeteria salad when she finds out Yolanda dropped $3k on a bag for a girlfriend she’s had for like two months. Yolanda just shrugs and sips her water, “so?”

- Emery likes to take the overnight on call for the overtime. She occasionally spends more time in the ER than she does on the surgery floor because she gets bored.

- She’s currently sitting in one of empty chairs behind the nurses station while Jack stares at the board. “So you don’t think this is concerning?” Jack scratches his eyebrow “I don’t know, she’s a grown up, she can do what she wants.” “Two months Jack. Two months” he turns to face her finally arms crossed “maybe that’s all it takes”

- Em rolls her eyes “you and Sam don’t count, that’s like creepy divine intervention level shit.” Jack snorts out a laugh “normal people like the rest of us, two months is not enough” “they’re not getting married.” “Yet”

- Jack gives her a long hard look. The one she hates cuz it’s like he can read her fucking mind “this is not about my divorce” he shrugs again and picks up his coffee “did I say it was?” “It’s not” “okay” “it’s not!” “I said okay”

- There’s six women on his couch when Jack gets off a Friday night shift. All of them in leggings and sweaters with blankets and coffee a box of pastries and other assorted snacks on the coffee table. Jack scans the room cautiously, “good morning”.

- They chorus different variations of “good morning” and Sam weaves her way around to give him a hug and a kiss. “What did I miss?” Sam looks over her shoulder to Ellis clicking through the tv menu “Parker saw this show on TikTok we have to watch” Jack looks over his wife’s shoulder as “unholy” by Sam smith blares through the surround sound over the shows intro. “Is this something I have to be included in?” Sam laughs and kisses him again “it is not” “thank god” he kisses her one more time, I’m goin’ to go work out”

- When Jack came back in from the garage he stopped in the kitchen and made a bottle of electrolytes. He watched from the kitchen as all the girls were locked on the show, faces in varying and amusing looks of shock, awe and disgust.

- He didn’t mean to walk into the living room but he still leaned against the couch behind Sam “the fuck is this?”

- “A train wreck” “the best show ever” “something I’m going to have to talk about in therapy next week” “I feel so normal right now.” “It’s an abomination” “careful you’ll get sucked in, save yourself”

- Parker stans the skip into button to get to the third episode faster.

- Jack looked around the living room again at the women that have made themselves at home on his couch, apparently for the rest of the day from the look of it.

- “Walsh, I’m goin’ to need you to find a man soon.” His eyes strayed back to the tv, scowling. Em turned to scowl “why?” Still staring at the tv Jack forced himself to turn to leave “because otherwise people are gonna get the wrong fucking idea” he leaned down to kiss Sam “I’m going to bed. Love you”

- He was halfway down the hall towards the bedroom when the girls all erupted in laughter. Finally catching on to his joke.

~~~~~

This one was a fun way to start my day! 🤣 thank you so much. You may have noticed, I skipped the “show and tell” portion of your request… because it got a mind of its own and so a tiny little fic it shall be! I’m sorry please don’t be mad lol

As always be sure to see my master list for other fics and blurbs for this universe!! 💚

[snapeingturtle]

I think my life is lacking a person to whom I can rant about my Finnish rock / iskelmä playlist centered around my headcanons about early-to-mid-20’s Severus Snape.

[redsrooftopprincess]

hey so how do you think Mikey’s brothers would deal with him being the first to get a girlfriend and she’s a human one at that. Cuz they clearly never thought any of them would find someone and it’s their baby brother who did the miracle of finding someone? 😂

Hi there! I'm not sure if this is exactly what you're looking for, but you're here so I assume you want my Mikey. Hope this is okay. 😅

Turned Tables

Michaelangelo x gn!Reader

Warnings: Queerphobia

4am and it's last call in The Village.

He's moving swiftly over rooftops, his usual route, a master of speed and momentum, moving through the city like water. He loves it. The rush. The flow. Moving around obstacles like they mean nothing. He is a turtle after all. Water is kind of his jam.

But not tonight. Tonight the heartbeat pounding in his ears has nothing to do with the thrill of movement. Tonight he's wearing his hoodie with the hood up. Tonight they're with him. And if he's spotted, there will be problems.

There have been whispers about suspicious gang movement in the area, and Leo wants to make sure that certain alliances aren't being made. They usually don't come out here. They have designated areas of the city to cover every night. It's smarter to stick to the same areas so that anything out of place will be more noticable. Which means tonight his bros were on his turf, and that scared the shit out of him.

He follows his brothers over storage sheds and HVAC units, keeping an eye out for anything out of place, occasionally glancing down into the streets below, knowing you'll be heading home after the party. Even if he can't say "hi" tonight, it's worth it just to look at you, even if just for a second. You're so damn pretty.

"Hey! Back off, incel!" the shout comes from the street below and he freezes. His brothers manage to get three buildings away before they notice he's missing.

By the time they make it back to the rooftop where he left them behind, he's already put himself, openly, between a group of four drunk bros, and several sparkly queers.

You and your crew had been on your way home from a party. Ironically enough, you'd just been missing your bright-eyed boyfriend, but understood when he said his brother needed the whole team tonight. You knew the score when this whole thing started. Superheroes gotta superhero.

And damn if he doesn't look good doing it.

Hood still up he glares at them, a low growl backing his words, "Wrong neighborhood, my dudes." Mike says evenly.

The look on the drunk bros faces was enough to know they were thinking maybe they'd had too much.

"Fuck it. Not worth it anyway. Fucking queers."

The dude-bros stumble off and Mike turns to face his very relieved friends. "You guys okay?" He says.

"Yes, thank you, papí," says a Drag Queen in red sequins, she walks up and gives him a kiss, leaving red glitter lipstick on his cheek.

"You know I got you, mamí," Mike says brightly, with a wink, making no effort to wipe the lipstick away. At this point they're most likely watching everything from the rooftop, so it didn't matter anymore.

"We missed you at the party," you say with a smile.

His gaze falls on you and his showman smile morphs into something softer. "Hey, Angel."

You look back at your friends.

"Let me guess," says a man wearing gold shorts and matching cuffs/collar, "you'll catch up?"

You grin and they sigh dramatically, teasing you, as they hug Mike goodbye, thanking him and insisting he show up at the next party.

You step forward and grab his mask tails, pulling him down into a kiss. Usually it's enough to melt the tension away. Not tonight. You pull back and look at him curiously before your gaze moves past him and you see black shadows cut out against the light polluted sky. You meet his eyes again and you can see the underlying panic.

"They were gonna to find out eventually," you say, quietly.

He presses his forehead to yours, "I know. I just..." He sighs.

"I know..." You say, touching his face gently. He'd told you about his brothers, and you understand their need for secrecy, you all do. He'd told you if they ever found out, there was a chance they would refuse to let him see you. Keep him from you completely. But there is no way in hell you're letting him go. You'll fight his big bad brothers yourself if you have to. "Go talk to them. Maybe it'll help to know there are people who aren't afraid." You twist the mask's tail around your fingers and tug, pulling him out of his own head, "Do you want me to come with?"

He shakes his head, "I gotta do this alone. Explain some things. But I think you meeting them at this point is unavoidable." he smirks down at you. You've been asking to meet his family. You haven't said anything, but all the sneaking around is starting to get to you.

He's quiet for a few moments, and shifts his weight, stalling. He must be really scared. "Now or never, Sunshine," you say, tugging on his mask tail again. He gives you a nervous smile and kisses you again, sweetly, before walking across the street backwards, just to look at you a little longer.

When he makes it to the alley, he looks at the ladder to the fire escape and sighs. There's a chance this could go well... right?

When he reaches the roof, they're all standing there, staring at him. Mike swallows. "Hey... So yeah, couple things..." He hauls himself over the edge of the building and stands to look up at his eldest brother, arms crossed, waiting. "So... that's Y/N," he says, as if reciting a list, "and those are my friends..." he gestures a bit further, "and -"

"Parties?" Leo's even voice cuts through the air as sharply as the blades on his back.

Mike glances at Donnie and Raph who look at him with a full spectrum of emotion, from betrayal to hope.

"How long has this been going on?"

"Just... A few years."

"Years!?" If Leo had eyebrows, they would have disappeared into his hair... if he also had hair.

"Leo -" Mike tries.

"Years. Parties. For years."

"Leo, if you'd just -"

"People know about us, Mikey. A lot of people. Don't you think that's kind of a big deal? You're putting everyone in danger here. If just one person -"

"Leo they're queer." Mike interrupts solidly. That shut him up. Leo stares at his brother, taken entirely off guard. "If anyone is used to having to hide their and everyone else's identities for fear of literal murder it's them. We protect our people."

"... We?" Raph asks after a moment.

Mikey gives him a look, "I'm a turtle attracted to humans, what would you call it?"

That shut all of them up, and Mike gives them a moment for that paradigm shift.

"Anyway, yeah, I've been doing a quick run through The Village before coming home every night, just to keep an eye on things."

"That's why you've been coming home late? I thought you were just smoking out somewhere." Raph says.

"That's because that's what I wanted you to think," Mike replies. Duh.

"And your friend? How long has that been going on?"

"We're more than friends," Mike shoots back immediately, a fire in his eyes as they meet his eldest brother's. They could come for him, he was used to it. Not you. His brothers eyes widen and they look at each other before landing back on him, "and we've been together for six months, two weeks, and five days," he checks his watch, "Six days. You want the hours, minutes, and seconds or are we done?" He says.

He pushes past Leo, and makes it almost to the edge of the rooftop before hears Donnie speak softly behind him. "... why would you keep this from us?"

Mike sighs, coming to a stop, "Because... I don't know..." He turns around, "I guess I was afraid you'd try and take it away," He looks at Leo almost defiantly. Raph smirks, kinda proud. "Or maybe... that they'd like you more than me." He looks down at you with a sigh, having rejoined your friends. You're laughing. It's his favorite sound in the universe.

Turning around, you catch him watching over you like a guardian angel turtle. You proceed to blow several kisses his way using each hand, before making a heart with them and spinning back around. The last six months have been the best of your life.

Mike can't help but smile, his brothers look on in awe as Michaelangelo's more-than-friend skips on down the sidewalk.

"Look," Mike says, his eyes returning to his brothers, "I'm safe. You're safe. They're safe." He assures, gesturing in each direction in turn, "We're a pretty tight group, and there's a protocol," he looks at Leo pointedly again, "that we follow with new people before anyone even learns I exist. I've saved the sequined ass of just about everybody in this neighborhood. They know me here. We're safe here... ish, obviously."

They're all speechless.

"I don't like this, Mikey." Leo says after a moment.

"You don't have to like it, you just have to accept it," Mike says without any question in his voice.

Leo sighs rubbing his forehead, "Well, at this point I suppose it's too late for damage control." He looks back at Mike, proud and resolute. This Michaelangelo has only made a handful of appearances in their lives, but Leo knew what it meant. He wasn't backing down. This decision had been carefully thought out and every angle considered before it was made. Mikey may play the fool, but he's far from it. A gifted strategist and the best of them at thinking on his feet, if he says it's safe, it is.

Leo sighs again, "Okay," he says, and Mikey can finally breathe again, "but we all need to be in on these protocols, and Don should look over security."

.....

He's just gotten back from his nightly run, and came home smelling like strawberry daiquiris and you... He may have stopped for a minute.

He's just stripping off his gear to hit the shower when Raph appears in his doorway, knocking softly. "Uh hey," he starts, uncomfortable, "You got a sec?"

Mikey tosses one of his hand wraps into the basket in the corner and starts unraveling the other one, a small burst of glitter explodes into the air with the first layer of cloth. Mike snorts and swats it out of the air. "Sure, bro. Sup?"

"I just..." He struggles, looking at the floor, trying to find the words. He's embarrassed he even wants to ask, but he has to know. There's a chance now... A real chance at meeting real people... maybe... maybe even a chance at... "What's it like?" He asks, looking up at Mikey.

"Gonna have to be a bit more specific," his other hand wrap joins the first.

"Yeah. No. Stupid. Sorry," he laughs nervously, shaking his head and looking at the floor. His hands are actually shaking, he clenches them into fists.

"You okay, bro?" Mike asks, changing tone and pausing to look at his older brother, concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine," he assures, "I, uh..." He sighs and takes a deep breath, psyching himself up. "What's it like... being with someone who isn't scared of you...? Who actually wants you there?" He can't even say the word. He feels stupid for needing to know this damn badly, but he needs to know that it's real. Possible.

A slow smile blooms on Mike's face, his biggest brother would the one to ask. When they played as kids, he's the one that used to ride off into the sunset with the girl. White (well, green) Knight was his default, and a lot of where the anger in him came from as a kid. He had no choice but to live his life watching the world get their happy ever afters, until he died, alone, at the end of a blade. Michaelangelo sees something in Raph's eyes he hasn't seen in a long time. It's faint, and swimming in doubt, but definitely there: Hope.

He takes a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, "Well... It's kinda like..." He pauses, thinking, "Do you remember that old rusted pipe we used to skate on when we were kids?"

"The one that almost killed us? Yeah."

Twelve years old and Donnie had just souped up Mike's board and Raph's skates with some "prototypes." They were supposed to stick to the tunnels near the lair to test them out, but the second they stepped out, Mike made a beeline for the pipe.

The prototypes worked well. Too well. The speed and weight were too much for the rusted metal and it crumbled beneath them, sending them careening down a series of pipes and tunnels with no idea where they were going to end up, or what state they'd be in when they got there.

They skated as best they could, trying to stay on their feet, or even their shells, but everything was moving too fast and there were too many twists and turns. They couldn't keep track of where they were or where they were going, at one point some unidentified substances were involved, and at times it felt as though they would break apart.

When they finally emerged, battered and bruised in an unfamiliar tunnel a little over a mile away, they just sat there for several long moments, stunned.

When they finally met each other's eyes... they lost it. Laughing hysterically with tears streaming down their faces, they could barely feel the sting of cuts or the ache of bruises.

It was terrifying and exhilarating, and at more than one point they thought they were for sure going to die. It had been the most incredible experience of their young lives. They promised only ever to do that once (it 100% should have killed them), but both of them remember, to this day, exactly where that pipe is, just in case they ever want another go.

"It's like that," Mike says, tossing his belt in the corner and walking past Raph to grab a shower.

...

The next evening, before patrol, he receives a visit from a rather concerned looking Donatello. He doesn't bother knocking, but walks into the bedroom and closes the door behind him.

Don spins around to look at him, and raises his hands in a placating gesture. "I'm concerned."

Michaelangelo looks up once he's finished pulling up his shorts. "Okay...?"

"Have you and Y/N had sex? Of any kind, I mean."

"Dude."

"I'm serious," and he meant it. He was wearing his serious face. "Any exchange of fluids beyond kissing?"

Mikey looks at him, Donnie is really, actually worried, and now so is he, "Yeah... why?"

"How often?"

"Dude."

"At least... tell me your wore protection."

"I'm not exactly worried about them getting pregnant, so no."

"Are you worried about them getting regular injections of your DNA?"

This made Mikey pause, why would he... Oh, Gods... He looks up at Donnie, eyes wide and terrified. "Shit, I didn't even think..." He sits down on his pillow pile, thoroughly rocked. His hands cover his face as the possibilities overwhelm him. Mike looks up at his brother with pleading eyes, "are they gonna be okay...? They're gonna be okay, right?"

"I don't know... but I'm going to need a few hair follicles for testing."

"Done," he says quickly, snatching a small baggie from his nightstand and shoving it in his pocket.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I really am a fucking idiot.

Michaelangelo throws on his gear as fast as he can, booking it out of the lair.

He's back in less that 45 minutes

The next few hours are spent with him panic pacing, while Donnie is running tests. Finally, he straightens from over the microscope, one last visual check to confirm what his readouts were saying, and Mike stops, waiting for whatever news comes next.

"Nothing, they're clean. No mutagen detected." Don turns to smile at his brother.

"Fuck, me..." He sighs heavily, breathing hard. The rush of relief makes Michaelangelo so dizzy he has to reach out and catch himself on the wall. Even so, this is definitely something the two of you need to talk about, just in case.

"I'll want to check in periodically, just to make sure it stays that way, but things should be safe enough for now." He pauses and looks uncomfortable for a moment. Emotions are tough for Donnie. They've never made much sense to him, especially when expressing them to others. He knows what they feel like inside his head, but he's never been entirely sure what to do with them. Like he was never given the manual. Even so, he knows that this is important. "Hey, so, um... the probability of something like this happening... one of us actually finding someone, is... Astronomical... Now it’s... slightly less so," he says, thoughtfully, with a soft smile, "so thanks for that."

.....

The eldest of his brothers finally shows up after almost four days. He stands in the open doorway, chagrined, and knocks on the frame.

"Hey, Mike." Leonardo says, taking a few steps into the room.

Michaelangelo looks up from what he's doing and stands, expecting another argument against all of this. He's ready.

"I'd like to apologize."

Okay, he wasn't ready for that.

"I was caught off-guard, and I reacted poorly," he says, "I was worried. I still am. This whole… thing scares the hell out of me. It means there are more pieces on the board, more people to keep safe."

Leo sighs, "It also means that maybe... there can be something more than… this. And I... I don't know if it's worth it yet, the risk, to us or them. I wish I did. This is new... territory for me. I'm used to understanding how things are supposed to work, at least when it comes to us, but this..."

"Hey," Mike says, interrupting Leo's word vomit. Leo tended to keep things pretty close to the vest, even among the five of them, so it didn't happen often, but big things. Important things. Emotional things, could send him spinning out until someone stops him, or he tornados himself into a panic attack.

Leo takes a deep breath, as Mike grins, "How 'bout you let me teach you a couple things, for once."

He smiles back at his youngest brother, chuckling nervously, "Thanks. I would actually really appreciate that." Leo steps further into the room now that things seem settled between them, and pulls a pillow from the pile to sit on, settling in. He dismissed his brothers explanations earlier, he owed it to him to listen now. "So... what are they like?'"

Michaelangelo spends a good amount of time telling him about you, his friends, and how this whole thing got started. By the end, Leo isn't exactly more comfortable about the situation, but he sees the potential, and despite himself, he's just a little excited.

.....

At this point he's pretty sure his brothers are cool with everything. Less cool in one particular case, but he's working on Leo. Michaelangelo's father, however, is an entirely different story.

Leo had told him that morning, after they'd gotten back, and for two days he remained in silent meditation. By the time he emerged on day three, Michaelangelo was afraid to even be in the same room as him.

He knows this is a big deal. He knows his dad has been meditating on his own feelings on the matter and the best way to approach them with his youngest, and this could either go really, really well, or blow up in his face, but if there's one thing he knows about the old rat... he can't be avoided. Not forever.

The fated knock comes on day five.

"Hey," Leo says, "dad wants to talk to you."

Mike takes a deep breath and heads down to his father's room.

"Have a seat, Michaelangelo," he says, gesturing to the empty cushion across from him. There is a low table before him with a chipped pot and two steaming cups of tea.

Mike walks into the room. He doesn't seem mad, but that doesn't mean anything. His dad is great at playing it cool. He sits across from Splinter, nervously.

His father asks for the whole story, and listens patiently as Mikey tells him everything. How saving a drag queen one night led to his being accepted and wanted by a whole group of people. Friends that have helped him in more ways than he can count. Definitely more ways than he could ever help them. And you. He tells his dad about you. How amazing you are, how kind and patient, and something he hasn't even told you yet: just how stupid in love with you he really is.

It takes hours.

When Mikey is finished, His father is quiet for a long time, processing everything. He'd received some of the story from Leonardo, and was fitting the new information into the appropriate places, while carefully considering the situation. Mike tries not to panic.

"I'm proud of you, Michaelangelo," he says, finally. Mike's head shoots up from staring into his tea cup to meet his father's eyes.

Okay, what?

"Not only have you done all things possible to ensure the care and safety of both your new friends and our family, but you had the courage to look for something beyond what we know to be safe. You had the courage to try. All that done on your own. And while next time," his father gives him a look, "something like this comes up, I would much rather you come to me first," he pauses to ensure the message sinks in, "I understand why you did not, and you have my deepest apologies for that." The old master bows his head, penitently, across the table.

A half-laugh escapes Mikey, tears of relief stinging his eyes. He was ready to fight for you. In fact, since this whole thing started he's basically been thinking about nothing but what the hell he's going to tell his dad. The last five nights, he's held you a little tighter, a little longer. Not to say goodbye, he'd walk away from them if he had to, if they made him choose. You're too important. But he didn't want to, and now he doesn't have to, and sweet relief pours, fizzing, through his veins

"Really?" Mike asks softly, it wasn't often he got rewarded for disobeying orders, especially when the reward was something this big. You. Holy shit they were letting him keep you. He wipes at his eyes as his father smiles, "I uh... thanks Dad." He says, unsure whether he's laughing or crying.

"I feel as though a new chapter of our lives is beginning, thanks to you," his smile crinkles at the corners of his eyes, "and I look forward to seeing where the tale will take us."

.....

The next morning, Leo, Don, and Raph are sitting around the kitchen table after patrol, when Mike storms in with a purpose.

He slaps a neon green paper down in the middle of the table for the three of them. It's a flyer for a party, happening at Mike's usual spot, tomorrow night.

They look at the flyer, and then each other, before their gazes turn to their father, standing in the doorway with a steaming cup of tea. Four adult turtles, nearly pushing 30, silently begging their dad for permission.

There is a subtle smile under his whiskers as he takes a sip of his tea, "Be back before sunrise," he says, and his smile widens as he sees his children light up with the promise of a new adventure.

They'll panic later, when the reality sets in that they are about to meet a large group of people and they have no idea what they're doing (Leo may already be screaming internally), but for now they're excited, and looking forward to tomorrow.

....

Tag list

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[adickaboutspoons]

So there's several posts going around lately that seem to be dancing around the same proposition - that being that Ed is violence-averse altogether, rather than specifically killing-averse. While it's important to always keep the fact that Ed is no more violent than any other character on the show (and a good deal less violent than some), and that his use of violence is extremely considered and not the result of uncontrolled rages, denying that he would, has, and does commit acts of violence, and willingly, and sometimes even enjoys it, is just demonstrably wrong and elides a significant part of his character. When Ed is discussing "packing it all in" with Stede in 1x4, the reasons he give have nothing to do with being weary of or uncomfortable with the expectation of violence demanded by his position as a pirate, but because he's bored because "it's not a challenge anymore" because people don't fight back once they see Blackbeard's flag. He "loves a good maim." He genuinely has a blast with Jack and all his Jackassery. He gleefully spoke about mugging a guy for a dinghy. He thought the Knife Parade was a fun game until Fang told him his experience was not universal. He hands over a big fuck-off knife with the treasure he gives to the urchins, so clearly doesn't have a problem with using violence to defend what's yours. When he says to Stede "I'm not sure I want to go back to the old days of getting drunk all day and biting heads off turtles and making some poor bloke eat his toes for a laugh" that's not the same thing as saying he's forsaking his piratically violent ways and doesn't want to use violence ever again. The specific mention of all-day drunkenness and turtles calls back to the kind of shenanigans he got up to while Jack was around - and thus is a rejection of that kind of mindless violence for violence's sake; a prospect we had already witnessed him expressing discomfort with when Jack brought up what a wild man Ed used to be at brekkie. After all, part of the "most fun [he's] had in ages, years... maybe ever" has involved showing Stede how to "use a little oomph" and flirtatiously swordfight (both moments included in Stede's "what does it feel like to fall in love" mental montage) - violence as a means to procure a desired outcome, and with as little actual bloodshed or permanent injury as possible, but by no means not none. The show is so careful to never condemn the use of violence wholesale - like, at no point is the message a facile "violence is never the answer". It condemns certain types of violence, usually specifically those enacted large-scale by oppressive, colonialist social structures, but also cruelty for cruelty's sake. Outside of that, though, violence is a tool, and thus is only as "good" or "useful" as the task to which it is being applied. Ed is a master craftsman - he will use the tools at his disposal deftly, and, yes sometimes take joy or pride in his work. And that's not a bad thing, nor does it make him a bad person.

[marxistlesbianist]

feel free to answer when you’re not drunk but can you elaborate on the material basis for why USian communist orgs dont believe in revolution? is what you’re saying basically that - to put it crudely - workers in the US are alienated from the means of production so they dont know shit about how production actually works and therefore don’t understand how it can be seized and altered to serve the proletariat?

Time to elaborate some on this post now that I'm awake and sober! 😁

Big disclaimer that these are largely my theories, which have yet to be proven or disproven through revolutionary practice!!! (I'm working on it. . . . 🙇‍♀️)

Yeah you've got my material analysis right--though I'm not sure if "alienated" is the correct word (maybe "estranged"? thought it's been a minute since I read The 1844 Manuscripts). To clarify, though, when I say "the material basis for this degraded self-confidence," I of course don't mean it in a sense of direct causality! The loss of revolutionary confidence is strictly the result of previous generations of communists in the US failing to accurately interpret their circumstances and put forward an appropriate plan of attack. The shift in the mode of production following the neo-liberal turn merely provided the soil for weeds, which communists failed to cut down. As George Jackson put it, "when revolution fails, [. . .] it's the fault of the vanguard party." [1]

In my analysis, there have been two main failures which lead us into our current dearth of revolutionary confidence: first the failure of the socialist workers movement in the 1930s, and second the failure of the socialist movements for national liberation (often called the New Left) in the 1970s.

The first failure I haven't studied as thoroughly, but my rough understanding is that the workers movement, which held strong communist influence at the dawn of the 20th century, was effectively blunted by the New Deal, through which FDR divided the working class by paying off white workers at the expense of the oppressed nationalities. CPUSA, which had thusfar only made stumbling progress on addressing issues of racism, was ill-equipped to navigate this rupture in its base, leaving it vulnerable enough for Uncle Sam to massacre the party's revolutionary spirit during the period of McCarthyism.

Then in the 1960s, the trajectory of the civil rights movment lead black USAmericans to start viewing their communities as an "internal colony" of US imperialism, which could be best liberated through the strategies of national liberation which had worked (or were working) in China, Korea, Cuba, and Vietnam (with fairly little attention paid to the USSR and Eastern Europe). The explosive impact of the Black Panther Party inspired the formation of a bunch of groups in racialized or otherwise oppressed communities (e.g., the Young Lords, the Brown Berets, the Red Guard Party, the American Indian Movement, the Gay Liberation Front, the Street Transvestite Action Revolutionaries, etc.), and whilst these groups did attempt to form a unified front against the DotB, [2] their movements ultimately failed to coalesce, and were stamped out as individually as they were formed. Imo, had there then been in the US a genuinely revolutionary communist party, with a basis of support within the proletariat, I would be blogging to-day from the United Socialist States of Turtle Island--instead, the trade unions largely rejected this movement, and even moved closer to the right to distance themselves from this tendancy! [3]

The labor movement here (such as it exists) has been largely devoid of socialist character for decades now, and a lot of the New Left veterans circled around to blaming the our proletariat for the period of intense counterrevolution that was the neo-liberal turn. When the Regan administration launched a comprehensive assault on the unions, communists were not there in enough force to organize a successful counter attack.

Imo, for communist revolution to succeed in the US we will need a movement that has a thorough counter to national/racial/sexual oppression, otherwise the DotB will continue to run us through their highly advanced proletariat-dividing-machine until Germany finally nukes us all. We also need a movement that is internationalist in its foundation, otherwise they will use imperial chauvanism to divert our cause! Personally, I'm skeptical that the US proletariat is even a revolutionary class at this point, as our immediate economic interest is to defend the empire that subsidizes our relative luxury. If anything, we're in a similar position to the French peasantry who voted Louis Bonaparte in 1848. But like the French (and the Russian, and Chinese, and Korean, etc.) peasants, we can recognize our long-term interests and rally behind a communist movement that successfuly demonstrates the importance of proletarian revolution!

This is why I continue to maintain that the cornerstone of US communism rn should be a proletarian movement against imperialism (that is, against the material infrastructure through which "our" government projects its global hegemony)! Of course, idk how to build this yet--but to all my followers in the US, let's make a deal: you go out and start communist organizing in your community, and we can meet up and check notes when one of us figures out how to advance the level of struggle. 😉

Blood in My Eye. Pg 14.

Most notably through the Revolutionary People's Constitutional Convention.

The effect of the Sino-Soviet Split on US socialism in this period is something I still need to properly study, but it feels wrong not to mention it at all here. My rough impression so far is that, as most established socialist states and older socialist organizations sided with the Soviets, the New Left who mostly sided with the PRC found themselves isolated from the global movement that had initially inspired them. But yeah this is just my impression from tertiary sources, so please please correct me if you know better. 🙏

[qoldenskies]

A thought has occurred to me

So Donnie didn't want to have alcohol because he didn't want to lose control of himself, right?

What if, in some future point, he did decide to try getting tipsy/drunk, just cuz, and it turns out he's a giggly/chatty drunk. So he's sitting there all happy and rambling about whatever and then the other turtles are just watching him like this is the Donnie we killed

HEY,

[laswells-ashtray]

i saw someone ask for your take on what the guys would smell like etc., and im now curious about your thoughts on that for Gary Sanderson. would love to hear them if you have any bc i am So So Normal for that man trust me bro /nf

I know less about him than the rets of them so if you feel this inacurate, do tell me.

Smell wise, cheap deoderant but expensive aftershave. With a job like his, you sweat like a hooker in church. Deoderant is used a lot and therefore best to use something cheap that smells decent but doesn't run the risk of sending you into a fit whenver you catch a smell of it. It also leaves the opportunity to splurge on aftershave, get the good stuff and get a big bottle of it because you hsve the money to spare. I don't know what to say other than I think he'd gravitate towards a woodsy type scent. If he's a smoker then the faint smell of smoke that sticks to his clothes, if not then not.

Piercing? Single ear that he puts back in when going on a night out depending on the crowd.

Drunk tattoo? Everyone expects that it's going to be a roach. They're wrong. It's Splinter from Teenager Mutant Ninja Turtles and it's rght under his left knee.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

A New World: part 2

Bayverse!Leonardo x reader

Part 1 / Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

A/N: I have decided to give you guys part two already, hehehehehe. Now it’s time for your side of that fateful encounter hehehe. Nothing super detailed or super important, by ay, part 2 it is.

Leo is 25, reader is 22 - 23.

Warnings: None so far💙

When (Y/N) woke up that day, nothing could have told her about the things to come. Not a cloud in the sky or smell in the air. No beeping alarms or sirens up above. Nothing. Nothing but good weather, blue skies and singing birds, along with the usual sounds of the bussy city. It just seemed like a normal day off, and (Y/N) had every intention of enjoying that day.

(Y/N) woke up with a big stretch, before making her way to the closet to get dressed, all while ignoring the early morning texts from her needy and possibly drunk ex boyfriend. With that she went to the kitchen, so she could make herself breakfast, planning out her day in her head. As stated before, the weather was great. A warm day in the middle of summer. It was as if the day was made for her to have a day off. So why not use this amazing weather as a reason for going downtown and do some shopping. Listen to some music, look at some clothes, geek out at her favorite nerd shop, and just see what caught her eyes. Sounded like a plan. A perfect plan actually. Maybe even grab some food on the way home. Only time would tell.

With that plan in mind she cleaned up after herself, before venturing out of her apartment and down to the metro, taking the first train towards centrum. With her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) kept bobbing her head to the music, keeping an eye on the station names above her head. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a boy jumping in his seat, playing with his new Mutant Mayhem figures, telling his mother what they were doing and mimicking sound effects, all while she nodded along, not really sure what any of the words he said meant.

(Y/N) smiled at the sight, remembering the days she got TMNT action figures for Christmas. She had had all four turtles, all from different episodes of the 2003 series. Mikey dressed in dinosaur skulls, from the episode where they were stranded in the dino area. Raph in a big red foot clan robot. It could even shoot small plastic projectiles. That had been an annoyance for her parents, as they never knew when they would be shot by an angry toy turtle. A cyborg Donnie with tubings and all sorts of robotic gear and a grappling hook. And Leo, in his natural katana holding stance. That one action figure didn’t come with much, but that didn’t matter to (Y/N). Leo had always been her favorite turtle, so having an action figure of him with just his two katanas and nothing more, didn’t diminish him in her mind. To (Y/N), the blue wearing ninja turtle stood for everything she wanted to be as a child. A leader, a role model, a savior, the good person that always did what was right. It wasn’t until (Y/N) got older, that she realized what else he stood for. He was anxious and worried for his family’s protection, just like she worried about her siblings, both now and growing up. The leading turtle struggled in every single version of himself. His mental state, his own insecurities about his strengths and weaknesses, and the thought of not being good enough. Those topics was only getting scarily more relatable to (Y/N) as she got older. Now (Y/N) was a newly single woman in her 20’s with an apartment of her own, and now they were more relatable to her than ever.

It didn’t take long before (Y/N) got to her station. She went up the stairs from the underground station, before making it to the big shopping streets. With music booming in her ears, she went into one store after another, seeing if there was any clothing. And behold… nothing. Absolutely nothing. Nothing really caught her interest, and the few things that did was not in her size.

(Y/N) huffed, slightly annoyed, before leaving and going to the next store. It was the same story all over again, again and again, until she came to her crown jewel. That comic book store that had everything a small geek like her could think of; Harry Potter, Lord of The Rings, Star Wars, Star Trek, Doctor Who, DC, Marvel and Avatar. They even had H.P. Lovecraft, and her childhood favorites such as Tintin and Asterix & Obelix. And of course Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. On the shelfs between Avatar and Star Wars stood the TMNT comic books. (Y/N) found herself over there in no time, looking through one after the other. For a long time she had been thinking about buying the second big collection of the TMNT IDW comics. She often found herself flipping through it while standing in the store, but always putting it back on the shelf when she saw the price. As much as she loved TMNT, that price seemed to surprise her everytime, even though it was the same everytime she came to look at it. Well, she had already bought the first collection after several days of looking at it. It was good, she wasn’t going to lie about that. (Y/N) loved the idea of her favorite turtles having a human past life, and she was stocked for the rest of the IDW series. But the amount of money tho…

After standing there for some time, (Y/N) decided it wasn’t the day to spend money. Maybe she should just go home and watch some movies. Batman VS Ninja Turtles maybe? Rise of TMNT? Maybe even Turtles forever? No, she decided on the bayverse movies.

(Y/N) left the store as a new song started playing in her headphones, causing her to once again bobbing her head to the music. As she was walking back towards the metro, it was as if a strong wind came down the street towards her, making everyone stubble in its way. (Y/N) felt it as the strong vibration made a stubble backwards. She managed to catch herself, slightly confused at what just happened. And as she wondered, it happened again. A hard and fast vibration, causing her to fall this time around. And just as she landed on the ground it was gone as quickly as it came. People mumbled in confusion. A slight earthquake? Just a hard sudden wind? Who knew, but whatever it was, it seemed to be over. That was at least what (Y/N) thought, but in reality, it should have been the first of her warnings for things to come. Nonetheless, (Y/N) wanted to go home. The food at home suddenly seemed way more appealing.

On her way home, (Y/N) heard people talk about what just had happened. Should we be concerned? Probably not, there is most likely a reasonable explanation behind it. Nothing worth bothering over. And with that though in mind, (Y/N) went back to listening to the song that was playing in her ears.

(Y/N) once again left the underground metro station, walking towards her street. She opened the door to the stairwell, before making her way up the steps to her apartment. As she came to her front door, she turned off her headphones before unlucky the doors with her keys. As she got through the door, she was still humming the song that just had been playing. Closing the door and leaving her headphones and keys on the table at the entrance, she went to take her shoes off. At that very moment, (Y/N) was just thinking about what food to eat while watching the bayverse movies. She should probably check the fridge to see what she had to work with. And with that she walked down the hallway towards her kitchen, only to stop dead in her tracks. In her kitchen stood a well over 6 foot tall green muscular terrapin, wearing his signature blow mask, trousers and boots and his two katanas on the back of his shell. (Y/N) was in shock, staring at the terrorfied mutant. (Y/N) did not know how long she had been staring at him before he broke the silence.

“Don’t freak out!” He held his green three fingered hands up in front of him, as if he was trying to keep her at bay. (Y/N) didn’t really register any of his words. All she could do was stare at him, even as he continued talking about her knowledge. “I- I know it looks weird, b- but I can explain-”.

That was when it finally clicked in (Y/N)’s head, as if she suddenly realized what she was looking at. “You’re in my house”. Was she talking to him? Nope. She didn’t even know if he was real, yet that thought hadn't even crossed her mind yet.

“I know, and I’m sorry! I don’t know how I got here-”.

She didn’t register a word he said. As she finally said the words in her head, they came through her mouth; “Leonardo is in my house”. The turtle was taken aback, seeming as shocked as her, mouth open but no words coming out. She repeated the words, as if her brain was still trying to catch up. “The Leonardo is in my house”.