#Donnie is shitting his pants

[sparrow-writes-draws]

The silly guys <3 (the popo caught them in a bar brawl w the purple dragons)

[scatterbrainedbot]

the trouble with being the one who survives is you must keep on doing it

inspired directly by @onionninjasstuff 's heart wrenching comic of Future Donnie's death (read it!!)

[heck-theo]

Okokokokok- ignore how rough and messy some of these redraws/sketches are - but it's apparently also dinosaur month?? (WHY did no one ever tell me it's Jurassic June? I love dinosaurs) And like. What if Rise but dinosaurs?!

I don't often post such loose sketches but I wanted to show these off cause I really like some of this.

Design choices and dino species + the reasons I picked them bellow (looking for potential Donnie dino suggestions):

Clothes: Without the shell they really need clothes. They'd all have pretty much the same pants to keep some unity, except maybe Mikey (I decided they should all have the same pants after I finished the Mikey sketches, not sure if I'll keep the shorts or change to pants). Accessories are a mix of pre and post finale.

Raph - I think would keep it simple and practical but would also wear nice jackets and stuff when in casual situations. I need to work on giving him an alternative outfit and tweak his accessories a bit.

Donnie - An oversized pull-over hoodie cause we already know he loves that shit. We see him wearing it all the time. Easy enough. He wears a comfortable singlet underneath so the straps of his battle sail don't rub. Nice soft fabric, tight fit so it doesn't move around, tucks it into his pants, etc. When he wears the battle sail he won't overheat so he can wear hoodies basically all year round.

Leo - He's in one of those shirts with obnoxiously large arm holes and make it cropped cause 1. I think he would 2. I want it to be different from Raph and Donnie's singlets. He usually wears the shoulder strap off his shoulder but pulls it up when he needs to. He has some of the black bandages over his mid drift atm but I might just make his pants super high waisted in the final version. He'd probably wear a bomber jacket (also cropped?) over the top for cool weather, but doesn't like to hide his feathers.

Mikey - I think he'd mostly wear hand me downs when he's younger. He definitely goes through a stage of rebelling and wanting to pick his own and would find a middle ground of appreciating sharing some of his brother's clothes and modifying them, as long as he has the choice of his own available. Not sure if that would be before or after this design. At the moment he's got Raph's old shorts (from a loooong time ago), Leo's old shirt, and Donnie's old zip up hoodie. He does have his own accessories though, including pins instead of stickers.

Dinosaurs: I kept them all as non-avian dinosaurs, AKA not including animals that are colloquially considered dinos but aren't (like pterosaurs). I wanted to keep an even split of herbivore vs carnivore just so one wasn't the odd one out. I wanted to keep most of their body structure, colours and distinguishing features the same as canon. Obviously I added tails cause, yeah, of course haha. I did want them to be recognisable as different species of dino using distinct characteristics that their species is known for. I did ignore a lot of differences though, like size and bipedal vs quadruped (although the quadrupeds might be more likely to go to all fours, especially when fighting or afraid). Leo and Donnie are carnivores so have sharper teeth and claws.

Raph - Some kind of Ceratopsian (likely Triceratops or something very similar) and he was the first idea I had for this and I'm really happy with it. I think it just suits him. Trike Raph just came to me in an unprecedented moment of genius. His spikey frill replicates his spikey shell. His sturdiness, protectiveness and willingness to kick ass when needed, all scream trike to me.

Donnie - Spinosaurus but looking for other species recommendations. More details below: So I wanted to figure out a way for him to have tech with a similar function to his battle shell (in the sense that it's something that helped him in day to day life) and so I went with spino cause one possible theory about a function of spinosaurus' sail is temperature regulation. So his battle sail has heating/cooling systems as well as other tech. A spino's sail was probably not fragile but the battle sail would also help protect it from being targeted during fights or crushed during extreme impacts. It was also thought to be used for display, and what's more of a display than a battle sail? The only problem I have with this is that it's lacking part of what makes Donnie's battle shell so great, which is that it is essentially a prosthetic. Not quite the same as how prosthetics are used in people of course, just in the sense that it is replicating the functionality of a body part that he doesn't have (I can't think of a better word). Well he does have a shell but it doesn't function in the same way that his brothers shells do, which leaves him with less defense than they have, hence a big reason for the battle shell (I hope I explained this well, it was hard to try and word properly). I can't think of a good way to do this with dinos. I was thinking of a carno or something with tiny arms, then Donnie could have tech enhanced arms but I'm pretty much ignoring body structure in the others so it would be weird to have just Donnie be affected by a difference in limb structure/functionality. I was thinking prosthetic tail but every non avian dinosaur had a pretty substantial tail. Except therizinosaurus but even they hade pretty obvious tails. I'm open to suggestions for this one if anyone has ideas. It does have to be an extinct non-avian dinosaur (anything not in Avialae), preferably carnivore but if someone suggests a really good herbivore or omnivore then I can try and swap Mikey for a carnivore. I want there to be an even split. I also wanted to give him something different on his face, like his brothers, and that could only be a little spino crest and it crowds the top of his head but I can't put it anywhere else...

Leo - A type of Dromaeosaur. I was tossing up between this and a dilophosaur where his red stripes were part of the dilo's crest, cause I wasn't sure about giving him feathers. But dilo Leo was so plain compared to the rest and the crests were hard to get looking right so I went back to raptor Leo. I can definitely imagine him literally and metaphorically preening his feathers too. You can't really see it but he does also have that big raptor claw. Raptors were smart, tactical and worked in packs so I think that suits him. I wasn't specifically referencing how some artists draw Leo's stripes coming off his face (I was just trying to replicate his stripes somehow, even though it doesn't make a huge amount of sense) but I realised afterwards that it kinda looks like that and might have been subconsciously inspired by it.

Mikey - Is an Ankylosaur. I'm pretty happy with the species but I need to work out the design of his armour plating so that it looks interesting, cool and protective but isn't too chunky, too pointy or super lumpy looking. I went with an anky cause Mikey is often hiding in his shell and he can't do the same here but he could curl up in a defensive ball. Plus I could imagine him using his tail club in his razzmatazz fighting style. A little like his kusari-fundo or nunchacku/nunchucks (not sure on proper wording).

[unlicensed-queer]

Study Session

Summary: Donnie and the reader are childhood friends going to college together and feelings run hot one night working on a biology project

Warnings: Shmut (sub! Donnie and unprotected sex, wrap it up folks, unprotected is only fun in fiction and monogamous relationships!)

Pairing: Donnie Darko x Fem! Reader

Notes: so like the smut was fun but I loved writing the dialogue between reader and Donnie, it was so fun to imagine them being tired and frustrated with their assignment and blaming the flies. First smut post hope y'all enjoy! (I did not proofread this have mercy on me). Divider by @saradika-graphics

Donnie and you had been friends as long as you could remember. You had grown up next door neighbors, running around the neighborhood, poking salamanders and making mud castles. Then later as soon as you got your license, the two of you drove around looking for anything to do in your sleepy Iowa town. You'd been together forever, always had each other's backs and been there for each other through your darkest moments. You knew almost everything about Donnie, except one thing. What you didn't know was that he had been pining after you since he could recognize the difference between girls and boys. You didn't know that he had picked the college he did simply because you were going there and he couldn't stand the thought of not being able to see you. And you didn't know that every night Donnie lay awake with his hand in his pants and his eyes closed, thinking of the way your hair smelled and how the sun shone off your skin. He was addicted to you, obsessed. One time you left your hoodie at his dorm, he had cherished it. He kept it in a box in his closet, secluded and safe, taking it out to bury his face in your scent as he rutted helplessly into his bed. The poor boy wanted you so bad it hurt. Of course it wasn't just that he thought you were hot, a lot of girls were hot, no it was the fact that you never treated him like a bomb about to go off, never looked at him like he might snap and run at you with a broken glass. You treated him like a normal friend, even after the shit show with the flooded school and the inspirational speakers house. But the fact that you were everything he ever wanted in a girl, strong, confident and forceful, didn't hurt.

Now Donnie was smart and Donnie was brave but he was terrified to admit any of this to you. He was so scared of ruining what you had that he held it back, content with his fantasies and his right hand, left if he was feeling adventurous.

One night you were sitting together, chewing your pencils and scratching your head over a biology project. The results of your trials weren't lining up the way they were supposed to and you just couldnt figure out what was going wrong. Donnie sat back with a sigh and stretched his cramped back.

"I dunno man have you considered that maybe the flies are just fucking stupid or something?" He asked, to frustrated to think of any actual ideas "maybe tomorrow we can print off an instruction manual of what they're supposed to do and they can read it with their weird ass little eyes"

You huffed a distracted laugh as you looked over the spreadsheets for the millionth time

"Sure let's tell them that they're giving they're larvae the wrong birth defects and that they need to try harder" You let your head fall, thumping against the textbook on your mattress

"I don't know what's going wrong, maybe the dosages in the food is wrong?" You asked, voice muffled. Donnie looked down at you. Your were laying on your stomach and your shirt had rode up, exposing the dip of your back. He swallowed, funny how an inch of exposed skin and the curve of your ass in shorts could make his brain short circuit.

"Yeah uh, we could try that"

You looked back, frowning slightly.

"You good Donnie? You look all sweaty are you sick?" You asked, tilting your head to the side. Donnie gave a bright and only slightly forced smile and gave you a thumbs up. As soon as you turned away he hurriedly grabbed a throw pillow and held it on top of his lap. He groaned internally, why did he always feel like this in the most inconvenient times? He didn't want to be one of those gross guy best friends that only spend time with a girl because they want to fuck her, but he needed you so badly. He could have drooled over the sight of the how your clothes hugged your body, how your shoulder moved as you turned pages.

Donnie took a deep breath, he couldn't stand it anymore. Even if you rejected him it would still be better than this halfway hell of agonizing over you day and night

"Y/N, I..I wanna..I gotta say something" Donnie mumbled, twisting the tassels on your pillow. You sat up and looked at him.

"Is it why you been acting so weird for the last 20 minutes?" You asked, pushing your hair back "do I have something stuck in my teeth?" You lifted your hand to your mouth in worry.

"Nonono, your teeth look great, you look great , I-" Donnie flushed with nerves. He could string together a rant about smurfs or rabbits or why he hated fakey VHS messiahs but as soon as he wanted to just say he liked you it was all jumbled up. You were so close to him, he could see the faint freckles on your nose. He didn't think about doing it, he just knew that a moment later his lips were pressed to yours and it was everything he ever wanted. He didn't care if you slapped him and never wanted to speak again, it was worth it for a moment of feeling your plush lips and being enveloped in your scent. He broke away, lips parted and pupils blown wide.

“Sorry uh-" he didn't even get to finish his sentence before you had pushed him back onto the bed, kissing him hard. Donnie moaned and threaded his hands into your hair. You were both inexperienced and the kiss was all tongue and teeth but still the heat pooled in your core. You pulled away for a moment to breathe, looking down at Donnie. His lips were swollen and pink, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed.

“Y/N, fuck, need..need you" he whimpered, tugging at your waist band. He felt like his brain was melting, you were so pretty and he was so hard and he needed you so badly it hurt.

“Please-please I-” Donnie felt you wrap a hand around his cock and he gave a whimper that sounded like he was about to cry.

"Need what?” You teased. You knew full well what he wanted, your pussy warm and wet around him. But you weren't going to let him have it that easy, he'd get spoiled.

“Wanna fuck you, please Y/N, I'll make you feel so good I just need you, needa be inside you.." Donnie begged, pressing kisses to your neck and face. “Please" he whispered into your skin, drunk on the strawberry scent of your body wash.

“So polite aren't you?" You murmured to Donnie as you cradled his face in one hand. You shifted your legs to pull off your shorts. Donnie looked down with wide eyes and swallowed dryly.

“Cat got your tongue?" You laughed as you tugged down his pants and boxers to his knees. Donnie looked back at you. His eyes were huge, they always were but this time they seemed almost glassy with awe.

“You're so pretty" he whispered, lifting his hands to your hips. You smiled and kissed him slowly as you sank down onto him. Donnie groaned into the kiss, his hips bucking unconsciously. It felt so much better than he could have imagined, tight and hot and velvet soft, rippling around him. He bit his lip trying not to cum instantly. A shock of electric pleasure shot through him when you started to ride him. He couldn't control the sounds he made. He didn't know if he was talking or whimpering or what but his mouth was open, praise and pleasure dripping from his lips.

“Feel so good inside me" you panted, hips raising and falling, the obscene sound of your skin together filling the dorm. Your hips burned but the pleasure was enough you couldn't stop. You were lost in the pleasure when you felt Donnie grab your hips, halting your movement. You looked down in confusion, seeing Donnie with his eyes clenched closed.

“Donnie? Are..are you ok?" What if he wanted to stop? Had you done something wrong?

“Just..just gotta..hold on for a second" Donnie mumbled, face flushing red. His cock throbbing, desperate to cum. You looked down at him, a knowing grin spreading across your face

“Were you about to cum?" You asked, mirth in your voice. Donnie flushed even redder

“Not my fault you're..fucking good at this!" He protested, taking a few deep breaths to back himself away from the edge. You laughed, your head tipping back. Donnie couldn't believe how beautiful you were. He gripped your hips again, thrusting his hips up. The tight wet heat was intoxicating, he felt like he could drown in your scent and die a happy man. You were his goddess and his altar and he would worship any way he could. As you started to move again Donnie bit back a whimper as his cock throbbed.

“So pretty, so fucking pretty" he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. Your lips pressed together in a messy and desperate kiss. Donnie fucked you like he wanted to be part of you, whimpering desperate pleas and praises as he thrust his hips up automatically. He could feel his climax building, rushing up on him and he gripped your hips tightly.

“Can’t-nnh-can’t stop-Y/N-” he grunted, he could feel your hot breath panting on his neck as you bounced above him. He reached down and pressed two fingers to your clit, rubbing in a circular motion, entranced by how wet you were. The additional stimulus made your brain short circuit and you gave a breathy moan, Donnie wanted to record that and play it on loop until he came dry.

"hh-fuck-hh” Donnie couldn't string together a sentence as he held himself back from cumming. He didn't want to cum before you, he wanted to serve you, to be good. Above him he felt you seize, your pussy rippling around him as you gasped. He felt a gush of slickness over his hand and he couldn't help himself, cumming hard with a whimpering moan of your name. As he lay, panting and sweaty with you laying on his chest one thought crossed his mind.

“Best fucking study sesh ever"

[oozedninjas]

I wanted you to be my first ♡

Short thirst of their first time with f!reader!

Warnings: 18+ / MDNI / suggestive / Ninja guys are 20-21 and so is reader / general verses leaned a bit towards Bayverse / overall pretty soft

He's supposed to be in control, know the rules, tame the game... he's supposed to, but this is something so very new, and so exhilarating he scarcely thinks straight. 

"I've never done this before," you pant after breaking the kiss, slipping a ghostly touch down his shell. 

Leo bites down a groan. Your eyes are glossy and your lips swollen, puffy from making out. It doesn't seem fair to keep playing cool.

“Well, neither have I,” he admits, averting his gaze. His dick twitches, pleading him to grind on you, but he refrains.

Gently, your hands cup his cheeks as you make him turn. The heat in his face is lovely and evident. "Let's try together. Here, touch me."  

Be gentle, he thinks. Slow, not too fast, don't scare her. Don't hurt her… 

"Fuck, like that," you breathe, nails digging into his shell, scratching. 

He groans near your throat, and the sound echoes on the crock of your neck, causing you to clench. He moans at the feeling. 

"Doesn’t hurt- no more?” 

“No, no I’m f-fine,” you barely say before closing your eyes, allowing the slow heat in your core to settle, filling you. "Move."

Raphael growls, using all the self-control he's got to refrain from thrusting too harshly. He pulls you toward his plastron, hugging you back, your legs open further to accommodate him. So close like this, you feel complete as much as he does. 

“Shit, doll, you’re so tight,” Raph manages right after a soft groan. “It feels so good."

You're grinding on top of him, arms around his neck. The soft beat of your heart is intimately snug to him. The soft mutters of little moans pour into your mouth as you drink them.

"I want to go further tonight," you whisper, forehead over his own.

Donatello swallows hard. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Are you?" 

Donnie adjusts his glasses, nervously. "Yes," he breathes, perhaps a bit too desperate. "but- but we can stop anytime if you change your mind."

Your lips curl upright, hands cupping his cheeks. "I love you,"

"Tell me if it hurts," Mikey asks as the lines with you. 

After some tentative rubs, he slips in, slowly. Your breath hitches, hand fisting the covers. He's big, a bit too much. 

"Should I stop? You can tell me, it's okay."

It brings a smile to your face. "I'm good, keep going." 

Mikey stares at you just enough to make sure you mean it before thrusting in. "Relax, close your eyes," 

His lips graze your cheek. He did a fine job preparing you but it still stings. Can't be helped, you suppose, just dealt with. You breathe, allowing your body to adjust to his size. 

"I'm gonna make you feel so good... so- mn, you're tight."

"Hurts?" you rush, worriedly.

"No," Mikey breathes, trying his best not to come just by the warmth of your walls. "No, it's- it's so good, angel. You feel so good,"

[coryosbaby]

i saw that you wrote for donnie darko a while ago and since i’m currently fixating on him i present a very intriguing concept: stepbro!donnie.

i feel like he’d love the taboo aspects of it and would have no trouble justifying it to himself bc it’s not like you’re related.

18+, MDNI !! stepcest (stepbrother x stepsister), suggestive content , kissing

No cs he literally would. In the movie he’s all about “I don’t want to fuck my family, that’s weird.” But with you, he doesn’t even view you as family— not really, anyway. Sure, your parents are together but at the end of the day there’s no blood relation, right? It’s not normal to daydream about tit fucking your sister, either, so— yeah. Definitely doesn’t view you as a relative.

He’s a total horn dog. I can imagine him making a move on you for the first time when you’re both watching a movie— some dumbass sex scene comes on and suddenly his dick is springing up and he’s subtly placing a pillow across his lap. He watches your concentration on the screen, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth.

“Why do they always decide to fuck in these movies?” You question. You say this because you’re both watching some random slasher with an unnecessary amount of girl on boy sex scenes. “There’s like, a killer on the loose. How stupid can you be?”

He shrugs. His hand moves to the bulge in his pants.

“Spur of the moment, I guess,” he replies. “Can’t really control it once it starts.”

“And what would you know about the art of intimacy?”

It’s a joke, an innocent little jab that usually has Donnie firing back with something like, “you’re one to talk,” and then making a joke about your empty dating history— but he doesn’t do that this time. No, you’re too pretty. He’s too horny. He needs to break the ice before he lands hard on his ass and doesn’t get back up.

“Wanna find out?”

Your pupils dilate, eyes a bit wide and freaked out when you hear the (incredibly impulsive) words spill from your stepbrother’s lips. But also— and only Donnie would notice this, seeing you all the time and all, and not because he thinks about you every waking moment— you seem to be intrigued. Your eyes scan over his body and move back up to his face.

“Is that a rhetorical question?” You tease, and let out a nervous chuckle. “You wish. I’d never fuck your virgin ass.”

“How’dya know if you’ve never tried it?” And he gives you that shit eating grin when he’s really amused, the one that makes your stomach do flips. “You could kiss me instead, then. See if you like it.”

“I’m not kissing my brother.”

“Stepbrother,” he corrects. His legs spread apart, almost like an invite. You pretend not to notice. “C’mon, kid. don’t be a pussy.”

He calls you kid even though you’re only one month younger than him. He does this because he knows it irks you. You roll your eyes, licking your plump bottom lip.

“Whatever,” you mumble, then you groan. “Come here, then. But if you slip me tongue, Darko, I swear to god I’ll tell your English professor that you cheated on your exams last year.”

He begins scooting closer, his jean clad thigh pressing against your bare one, and he seems very giddy.

“Won’t give you tongue,” he replies. “I swear it on my life.”

You give an annoyed hum. Donnie’s arm goes behind you on the back of couch, and you can smell his cologne and the dial soap he uses in the shower. When neither of you makes a move— an awkward stare into each other’s eyes, faces a few inches apart, Donnie’s eyes filling with something you can’t quite make out— you utter, “Well, are you going to do it or not?”

Instead of replying, he just.. goes for it. He presses his mouth to yours in a smooth peck. But fuck, he’s so hard, and he’s wanted this for so long. He goes back in for another, mouth opened slightly, awkward. Virginal. The two of you kiss like this because that’s exactly what the both of you are— virgins. When you pull away from him, his lashes flutter open and he grins again. You want to kiss him some more— maybe his tongue in your mouth wouldn’t be so bad. But you hold back, eyes blinking.

“This is really fuckin’ weird, Donnie.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi @kaithoughs @jamespotterismydaddy @wildgirllz

[yorshie]

Tattoo Worship

Bayverse turtles x reader NSFW head canons concerning the tattoos I added to them.

Set in 2023 for turtles are 24-25

Leo

Sometimes when it’s just the two of you existing, little moments in between commitments and obligations, you will idly throw out poetry about Leo’s ink. Not anything big, not even anything considered good by most standards, but when you compare the flow of water and dancing petals laid out over his scales to the constant ebb and flow of your love for him, he’ll never fail to get this bashful, boyish smile on his face. The turtle with the biggest way with words will fall silent and pliant in your tiny hands.

The true beauty of his tattoo however, comes out during training. The fluid lines accentuate how his body moves, how each group of muscles work in tandem. He’d be a lying little shit if he said it didn’t give him an ego boost to catch you watching him while he’s working on his katas, eyes glued to the flexing lines before following their flow to his arm or further down his leg.

When it’s just the two of you he’ll let you touch it, let you skate your fingertips along the different colors. He might get a bit ticklish around the flower over the finer scales where his plastron meets his inner hip, but he’ll allow a few ticklish touches in order to feel the bliss of your touch on him. If you want to explore the larger flowers underneath his pant line however, he might get a little handsy in return.

Blue likes it when you use your tongue to trace his tattoo. The swirling lines of water in between flowers acts like a maze or a raceway, except the last thing he wants you to do is race to the finish line. If you want to start over he’s not likely to offer any sort of resistance unless you’re purposefully teasing him.

When your hands grab at his hips and ass he likes to imagine the pretty picture of your nails digging into the flowers along his left side, holding him closer. It reminds him to be careful, to not accidentally pinch your fingers underneath the ridge of his shell. He’d rather you grab his ass than his carapace but he knows it’s better leverage for you both to clutch onto the latter

He doesn’t really care if you want to call his tattoo pretty, so long as you look like you mean it. After years of different villains and Jones referring to him as the ‘pretty boy turtle’ he’s learned not to roll his eyes too much. When you gesture at, or press a hand to his hip, and tell him that you think his tattoo is pretty you’ll get either a crooked little grin if the two of you are going steady or a tilted head and a considering look if he’s not too sure you’re being genuine.

Donnie

You don’t often get to see Donnie’s tattoos. In fact, when you first meet him, he wouldn’t be surprised at all if you thought the tribal turtle on his shoulder was the only one he had. It’s not until you’re dating that you’ll see this dorkasauros rex in a relaxed enough environment to notice the blocky lines of his tattoo peeking out from a low rise pair of lounge pants. It’s not that he’s self conscious about them, he’s just usually is wearing his cargo pants or an added apron when he’s out in the garage and his tattoos are low enough on his hips and thighs to not be noticed.

However, the first time your fingers press into the lines his mind might short circuit just a little bit. For some reason Donnie’s nerves are just a little more sensitive, or maybe it’s just he’s a little bit of a baby when it comes to needles, but his tattoo hurt for a while after he finally got Raph to agree to help him ink himself. Now, though, the feeling of your fingertips, your palm, feels good in a way his mind can’t quite comprehend although he tries to. He’ll clutch your hands and hold them still against his hips, mind trying to catalog the sensation while he’s grinning like an idiot. It might take several tries of calling his name and drumming your trapped fingers before he lets you go.

Donnie likes it when you touch his tattoo, in any way he can get, though hard scratches make him wince. Soft touches and tracing the lines and the frill of the flowers on his quads will get you quivering muscles and shaky words if he’s trying to explain something to you while you’re doing it. Absolutely will go wild if you press kisses to his flowers.

Loves to look down while he’s entangled with you to see the harsher colors of his scales and ink peeking through the spaces where your limbs twine with his. If you’re between his legs and you grab onto his tattoo he might just squeak and pull his head and hunch his shoulders into his shell, but only because he’s blushing and he doesn’t want this to end too soon

If you call him or his tattoo pretty this tall turtle will blush and probably fumble whatever is in his hands. Especially if it’s your first time seeing his full tattoo, he might just trip and fall over while trying to untangle his feet. If you keep telling him though, he will eventually believe you, he just won’t understand how you think that’s possible.

Raph

Big Red’s tattoos are hard to miss, even if he’s dressed for patrol. His full sleeves spill out onto his traps and over his collar bones, coiling around his plastron like they’d continue if his scales existed underneath the hard keratin. He’s intimidating, and he knows the tattoos only add to it. He’s not afraid of using it to his advantage and has had more than one person admire them over the years of working with the police force.

It might take you a few hours to map out the expanse of his tattoos with kisses or even with your hands, there’s a lot of intricate details and hidden meanings in the symbols he chose, but if you ask nicely enough he’ll tell you what each one means, especially if he’s sweet on you and you’re stroking softly over the lines along his muscles. When you find the spots that have scars over the lines, he’ll switch to giving you vague answers on how he got them, not wanting to worry you over something that you can’t change. His tattoos are a sense of pride for him, a part of his story, a sign that he’s able to weather pain and tolerate hours underneath a needle.

If you catch him when he’s just done from a work out though, tired and achy but still high off the hit of adrenaline, his muscles will twitch underneath your touch, lines dancing as his nerves react to the stimuli. It’s these moments where running a tongue across his biceps will get a hiss and a look of heat, a quick warning of ‘you better be sure, baby’ before he takes you up on your silent offer and kisses you dizzy.

Raph loves it when you sink your nails into his arms, likes it when you miss his carapace and claw over his shoulders. He knows your little human hands can’t hurt his ink, and even if you did manage to leave a mark he’d wear it with pride, the little filthy gremlin that he is. Expect lots of churring if you scratch over his arms and maybe even a rumbled insistences of “harder, baby, that spot itches bad”

He likes to watch you in secret when you start ogling him. He might give himself away though by smirking when he sees your eyes widen as you map out the width of him or if your gaze trails along his tattoos. If you’re going steady he’s eventually going to call you out for it, go looking for some sugar to make up for ‘undressin’ me with your eyes’ as he usually puts it

If you call his tattoos pretty he might take offense if the two of you haven’t known each other long. If you’re together however, you’ll get either a) a bashful turtle rubbing the back of his neck and blushing or b) mr. bedroom eyes determined to show you how his tattoos are actually not ‘pretty’ thank you very much they are ‘sexy’ and he’s willing to spend any amount of time needed to convince you of the matter. You will never be able to tell which one you’ll get until you give the compliment.

Mikey

Mikey keeps his sleeve covered during patrols but that’s mostly because it’s so bright and colorful even he admits it could potentially give away their position. At home in the lair though, he usually takes his compression sleeves off, so it’s not unusual to see his tattoo early into meeting him. If you ask him about it however, he’ll simply point at a marigold and tell you he likes flowers, smiling and acting like he doesn’t understand that you mean the snarling dragon flashing through the orange flowers. He’s not above showing off and popping his biceps just to watch your face when the flowers double in size however.

If he’s sweet on you though, and you take the time to really get to know him, he’ll let you trace the petals and the scales across his arm, and maybe he’ll tell you why he was the first of his brothers’ to dabble in colorful ink and symbolism. He likes it when you touch him softly, when you hang onto him or press your cheek against the curve of his shoulder. If you press a kiss to the dragon’s snout he might tap his own lips and ask where his kiss is.

Mikey likes seeing his limbs tangled up with yours, likes seeing the contrast of your skin against his, whether it’s his green scales or his colorful tattoo. If you grab at his shoulders or biceps to hold steady it will drive him wild, but he’ll also give you a shit eating grin because he knows you can’t keep your hands off him but also ‘really, sunshine, if you want a piece of the Mikester all you gotta do is ask, baby, there’s no need to be shy-‘ cue whatever brother is nearest him to try slapping him upside the head

The one time he will let you explore to your heart’s content however, is in bed or the shower. This turtle is the one with the most, shall we say, frivolous bedtime routine, and if he can convince you to scrub his scales or rub lotion onto his arms he’s all game. He’s not picky on floral smells, so if you want to try out some girlie products on him he’s game. When he’s loose and liquid from the lovin and pampering, that’s your chance to take your time and learn all the little muscles along Mikey’s tat and discover just how ticklish he is when you touch the shaded dots that curl up underneath his arm.

If you call Angelo’s tattoo pretty, and take the time to make sure he knows you mean it, get ready to be swept up in a full bodied hug and maybe even swung in a circle. He’ll ask if you’ve ever considered getting one of your own, hey maybe the two of you can match, maybe you’ll even let him design it for you-

[jakescakeislateforourdate]

hi I am the anon from the other day I was thinking about being in a established relationship w Don and he has a rough day a practise I don’t have your talent at writing lol so do what you please after that ahah

Perfect Form

Don Hume x fem reader

wc: 2,900

tbitb masterlist

⚠️ WARNINGS ⚠️ : smut, little plot, mdni, minors get out right now, penetration, fingering, cunnilingus, overstimulation, Don denying his own orgasm, aftercare

Enjoy this garbage!

…

Don’s skin glimmers with sweat. His hair is wet and slicked back from his shower not even twenty minutes ago. His pants leaning into his forearms that prop him up over you. His hips roll gently, and he slides in and out of you irritatingly slow. 

“Don.” You whisper, reaching up to touch his cheek. He’s burning, face heavily blushed from the bridge of his nose and down his neck and chest, “need you to go harder.”

His eyes blink open, glancing over you agitated features. They travel down your sternum and stomach and catch on the desperate thrust of your hips to meet him. Instead of helping you out, he places a mean hand on your hip bone and pushes you down, holding you still. His pace does not change, arousal soaking the juncture of your bodies and poisoning the air. You whine at him and try to push against him but the only measured strain it takes to keep you down is the new flex in his bicep. “Just lay down and take what I give you—” 

“C’mon, Hume!”

“Faster, Hume!”

Bobby wouldn’t let him catch a break. Poor Don had been catching crabs all morning, his oar piercing the water at the wrong angle or the wrong time. Something was always wrong with him. 

“Don’t give me that shit, Donny! You can do better!”

“What is that form!”

He just needed to breathe for a second, get his feet under him. He could Joe angrily huffing behind him. Shorty groaning in frustration behind Joe. All Don could feel were their annoyed glares and the sting of their complaints. He was in the stroke seat, he could not afford to be off his game ever and yet there he was, floundering like an idiot. 

“Get it together, you’re slowing this boat down!”

“Pull that again and you’re outta that seat!”

He did not get better by the end of practice and the crew would not get off his case. They complained on the way to the locker room, inside the locker room, in the showers, on their way out of the shell house. Coach Ulbrickson couldn’t even give him the time of day, telling him “If you don’t have yourself sorted out by tomorrow, we’re gonna have problems.” As if Don hadn’t been told off enough. He fumbled through his routine, tuned out to half of what everyone was saying. He tugged on his jacket and then his shoes, not even bothering to tie the laces. 

At this point the crew was more concerned than they were angry. Don was quieter than usual. His face was long and sullen. His gaze distant.

“What’s wrong with Don?”

“What should we do about Don?”

“How can we help Don?”

On and on and he just wanted everyone to shut up and let him fix whatever problem he’s got. He left the locker room, his hair still dripping with the shower water. He found his way to your room without even thinking about, subconsciously knowing what he needed. 

“F-fuck! You feel too good.” His head dips, hair tickling your collarbone. Your hands tangle in the dark strands of hair at the at the back of his head, holding him close. His bare body moves rhythmically. Slow and steady and restrained. He just wants to feel you, prove to himself that he as control. You’d offered to ride him, let him rest his tired body but he flat out refused and shut you up with a kiss. “Just—I just—” As he trails off his pace slows even more. 

“Don! Don, please!”

You can’t handle this leisure fucking, you want him faster and harder. The drag of his cock through your drenched walls is lugging you to a harrowing climax. You feel that knot forming in the pit of your stomach. The broiling heat that electrocutes your veins and shocks your muscles. 

“Faster, faster, faster…”

But Don just doesn’t listen. His thrusts remain soft, and his pace still relaxed. It frustrates you to no end and the need curls painfully inside of you. You arch off the bed, straining against the hand pinning you to the mattress. Your hands latch onto his shoulders. You actually gain some leverage against him which allows you to buck your hips into his oncoming thrust. The excess force creates the most delicious sensation as his thick cock is stuffed further into your soaked pussy. 

“Hn—ngh!” Don’s lashes flutter and his brows draw tight, “Ha’ahfuck! Don’t do that.” The way you squeeze him makes his head spin. Not to mention the fact you’re now grinding back. Don reckons that the only way to keep you still is to drop his full weight onto you. 

That glorious feeling of finally getting that mind-tickling pleasure dies away has Don’s sweaty skin presses fully to yours. Chest to chest, you’re effectively trapped between him and the mattress. “No-no. Why won’t you let me,” his lips cover yours in a callous kiss. The taste of that mint gum he likes to chew spreads over your tongue as his licks into your mouth. Your teeth clack, noses knocking as he rips away your precious breath. Your hands rake down his freckled arms. His own rough hands chase them down and fill in the gaps between your fingers and jam them into the pillows. Aside from your legs, folded by his hips, you’re completely stuck. 

“Will you jus’ listen to me.” His lips abandon yours and he resumes his cold-hearted pace. 

Tears well in your eyes, blurring his facial features and strangling your throat. It softens Don up a little as he watches you begin to cry because it’s how he’s been feeling all day. Finding some sympathy, Don grants you a deeper, harder thrust. He feels your stomach spasm at the newfound sensation. Your insides churn and you toss your head back and moan. Don tucks his knees under you, lifting your pelvis onto his thighs and forcing you to spread your legs wider. You squeeze his hands and sob as he hits deeper. His cock head drags over your g-spot, that rough little patch inside you that makes you twitch, with each of his calculated thrusts. Slick paints your folds, squelching as he pulls out to the tip and then shoves all his length and girth back in. You’re speechless and squirming and totally helpless to his whims. 

“Better?” He plants a kiss on your tear-streaked cheekbone and nuzzles. 

You choke and moan again, but you don’t try to fight him. Instead, your toe curls and you twist. Your orgasm is building faster than he wanted but he figures he can just give you more. He feels the stress of the day melting away as he watches you slip into the mind-numbing pleasure he gives you. He does that. He does it perfectly and controlled and with excellent form. 

“That’s right. You fucking love this, don’t you? Love me and my dick.” 

You wail and shudder as your insides uncoil. He delivers one more measured stroke and you cum hard. Your curl into him as your muscles tense. Clutching onto his hands so tight the knuckles crack. He can’t even move his hips once your legs lock together behind him. The waves of your orgasm wash over you and your walls wring out wetness around him. He wants to cum too, so bad, but he forces his way out of your hold and lets his climax fizzle out before it can shred him.

You whimper at the loss of contact. Your eyes peel open to see him not far away, hovering over you and breathing deeply. His thumb finds your clit and draws circles around the under stimulated bud. “Why...” You can’t catch your breath. “Why did you not—”

“Don’t want this to be over just yet.” 

Don scoops you up and moves you towards the top of the bed. Your back rests against the headboard, a pillow jammed under your hips. He props your legs open and plants a few kisses on your sternum and ribcage before trailing down your belly. Your spasming, dripping core is fully exposed to him and he ravishes you with a ravenous tongue. 

The velvety muscle curls and licks around your clit. It moves fluidly through your folds and prods your clenching entrance. “Hnn, Don!” You’re sensitive and lightheaded and now he’s giving you more than you bargained for. 

He mouths at your core for a while, making an even bigger mess of you. Your fingers tug at his hair and grab at his shoulders but he cannot be coaxed away. His lips, bruised from your rough kiss, suck on your clit and drive you insane. He braces his hands on your thighs and dips his tongue into your hole. You shiver and grind against his mouth as he tongue-fucks your sensitive core. Each brush of his tongue along your walls makes your toes curl and your chest heave. You didn’t get a chance to really recover from the last orgasm he gave you and he’s already steadily working you towards another. 

His thumbs find the petal-soft labia and spreads your folds. You bawl. His tongue flattens out and draws over your exposed parts. Don is relentless in this, his coarse tastebuds relishing the sweetness at oozes out of your cunt. He licks from your clit to your hole, circles the tip just around the inside, then licks back to your clit. Don suckles at the bundle until your thighs shake before he allows his teeth to graze the swell of nerves. Slick and saliva drip down his chin even as he slurps down what he can. 

You chant his name, “Don. Don. Don—” desperate and horny.

His hand leaves your clammy thigh, a rough fingertip pressing on the edge of your hole. His mouth works your clit, a faint slurping filling the breaths between your noises. One long finger pushes in. Then a second. Two rugged digits stroke your pussy and make you squirm. “Fuck Don, fucking—hell!” He can barely hear you cursing he’s so immersed. When you’re not looking at him buried between your thighs or studying the back of your eyelids, you’re watching his hips hump the comforter and sheets. 

Freckles like constellations dot his sinuous back. The pointed ridge of his spine divides the expanse of muscle. He’s tense. Still bothered by whatever has gotten into him today. He digs his fingers into that sore spongy g-spot and you writhe. Pleasure radiates from your overwhelmed core. The next high approaches fast as an avalanche. He works a third finger into you and it’s over. You go completely rigid as you cum again, gushing around his fingers. 

“That’s it, makin’ such a mess.” Don smirks, lips shining with cum.

You think he’s finished when his mouth leaves your cunt and lunges into a sloppy kiss, but then his fingers drag through your folds and pinch your clit. You jolt and keen, still fighting through the aftershocks of the last orgasm, and now he’s belligerently overstimulating that sensitive bud. You can’t get a word in with his tongue down your throat either, all you can do his clutch at him and whimper.

Once your lungs are exhausted of air, his mouth pops off your lips and he wedges himself between your thighs. “Stop trying to close your legs.” 

“Please—it’s so—f-fuck-ing—I can’t!”

“You can take it.”

His fingers rub fast, slicked up by your cum. He catches your clit between his digits and pinches again; it’s just enough pressure to border on pain. He bullies you against the headboard and steals your words away again. You try to kiss him back only to pant into his grin as you begin to wheeze. You don’t know what to do with your hands. Your blood is boiling, body spasming, your mind blank. Your third orgasm hits just as hard as the first two, making you cry out. He eases you down and pulls you back down the bed. He falls into place behind you and lifts one of your tired legs.

“Don, I can’t.”

“Give me one more, one more.” He promises, arm wrapping protectively around you. Your body feels like lead as the arm curled around you props your leg up. The other disappears and then promptly reappears with his cock pinched between his fingers. He pushes the tip through your folds and collects your slick. He’s already drenched in precum, a wet spot on the sheets from where he was grinding.  “Can you do that for me?” He rests the tip against your weeping hole, waiting for you to reply. “Need you to talk to me, sweetheart.” 

“Fuck, I—yes,”

He nudges the tip in and gently works his way back in. He’s long and thick and well aware that he’s a lot to take whether or not he was just inside you minutes ago. But he’s going too slow, that same stupid pace that drove you nuts earlier. 

“Not again, Don, please not a-again!” Fat tears drop across the bridge of your nose as you slump against him.

Don’s free hand soothes you, “Shh, don’t worry, just don’t want to hurt you.” Upon your distressed whines he begins to fuck, hard and fast. He rests his cheek on your temple and rolls his hips as fast as he can while still pushing deep. You go alarmingly silent, and gun grabs ahold of your chin. “Hey, hey, you okay?” 

“Hnnn!” 

You clench and his pattern falters, he’s painfully hard and hungry for release but you must cum first. You raise up on one elbow; Don follows and slips his arm through the newly formed crevice. His fingers find the pert pink but that is your nipple and trace around it. He flicks it back and forth and eventually pinches it between his index and thumb. A drawn-out cry leaves your drooling lips. Don’s free hand finds lifted knee and he hoists it even higher and rolls his hips harder. 

“Oh—” your head falls back, and Don pecks your temple. “I-hah-have to…gonna cum.”

“Yeah?”

Don fucks you so hard the bed creaks and mattress shifts, his skin slaps against yours and leaves behind a sharp sting. His leftover frustration bubbles up and takes over. He’s absolutely savage in giving you your last climax. Broken moans tumble out of his lips as your pussy constricts around him. You suck up empty breaths and Don knows you’re close. He drapes your suspended leg over his hip and reaches for your clit. He musters up enough coordination to find his way through the mess and stroke the aggravated organ. He feels where his cock has stretched you and lets out the most guttural groan as he pinches his throbbing cock between his fingers. 

Black spots obscure your vision as you cum. You thrash and collapse into him, “I got you. I got you. I’m right here.” He whispers into your ear as you cream around him. He takes it for as long as he can withstand, wanting to help you ride out your high, but when the dam bursts he has to pull out and roll onto his back. He strokes himself from balls to tip once, twice, before his insides are racked with his delayed orgasm, and he spills creamy white semen all over his stomach. He pulls you close, rubbing your tummy with the hand still tucked under you. 

“You alright?” He partially sits up and brushes back your hair. Sweat has beaded on your forehead and your eyes have shut tight. He jostles your shoulder until you nod. “Good, let me clean you up.” 

He climbs off the mattress and crosses the room on his shaky legs. He draws a warm bath, adding some bubbles to it before scooping you up setting you in the tub. “Are you okay, Donny?” Your eyes open just a hair and kiss his hand. The blisters and callouses hurt your heart. 

“I am now.” He returns the kiss to your nose before turning to analyze the state of your room. The mattress is damn near falling off the bedframe and the sheets have somehow been tugged from the corner. He lugs the mattress back onto the frame and replaces the sheets. He scrubs his cum off his belly then he’s climbing into the bath with you. The hot water eases the soreness in his whole body. 

You soak together, billing and cooing about the day. Don lets it slip about practice and you snort. “That’s what this has been about?” 

“Hey, now,” A smile plays at his lips as you tease.

You swat him, “Don’t even play innocent. Not after what you just did.” 

“Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“I’m only teasing, Donny, I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Yes, you worry wart.” You kiss his tender lips. He cleans you with soap and and washes your hair, fingers massaging your scalp. For a while you rest your head on his chest. Until your eyelids become heavy and you’re in danger of falling asleep in the bathtub. Don helps you out of the tub and into some pjs before he’s ushering you into bed. “You should stay.”

“You want me to?”

“You ask too many questions, Don, get in.” He slips in and nestles himself against you. He’s still bare, knowing he’ll get too hot in his sleep and also knowing what he’ll be like in the morning. The only reason her got you dressed was for the soul purpose and privilege of undressing you later. But that’s for the morning and for now he just wants to cuddle up and sleep off a long day. 

...

Dear reader,

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed this fic please check out my other works on my masterlist. Requests are open if you want to ask . Have a nice day.

-the author

[soapiemomorphine]

Here’s a post of the Disaster Twins’ Dynamic in my separated Rottmnt au!

This Leo grew up feral in the sewers in Staten Island, and met Donnie (who was an only child at the time) and Splinter when he was 11.

- Donnie didn’t always act all touchy feely with Leo until after he got rlly sick and almost died

- April is the first human that Leo let touch him, and April will always be Leo’s favorite human

- Leo started learning English at age 11 as a result, he’s very smart and a good learner, and he already knew basic words like ‘hungry’ ‘food’ and ‘water’, but he also knows a lot of names for drugs and curses much to Splinter’s dismay

- Leo is hella good at mimicry (like Tarzan from the Disney movie level of mimicry- he can make a convincing gunshot sound effect) he’s definitely caused multiple in-fights in gangs and grown men to shit their pants bc he’s rise Leo at heart, therefore a trickster

-In this Au, Donnie actually encourages Leo’s puns, because it takes a higher level understanding of English to make a pun that makes sense

- Donnie is hella resourceful, he had to make the sewer water clean, and hack multiple atm’s and street cams to look for his brothers

-he didn’t focus on making a battleshell however, since he didn’t have any non-soft shelled brothers to compare himself to or wrestle with, he does make it tho, after he meets Leo

-Leo is at one with with NYC pigeons/j, he’s friends with pigeons and the crows

Check out the next post!

Wanna see more? =>

||Check out the ‘How I Met Our Brothers’ Masterpost||

[puzzledcretin]

Sunflower

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @tigerthespahget )

Fandom: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Prompt: Sunflower duo (ROTTMNT Mikey & Miles Morales’ SpiderMan) Word Count: 3,360

Read On AO3

“Needless to say, I’m keeping her in check. She was a bad-bad, nevertheless. Callin’ it quits now, baby. I’m a wreck. Crash at my place, baby, you’re a wreck.”

Mikey sprinted across the rooftops of New York City. Keeping to the shadows, much like he had been taught as a child. His feet stayed light on the half walls, avoiding the patches of gravel. Originally, he had come up to the city to tag some walls downtown. Slowly, Mikey was trying to make a name for himself above ground.

Sure, his art was well known underground. However, he was starting to lose faith in his brother’s opinions. Could you blame him? He loved his brothers, more than anything in the world, but they were his brothers! They did not have to love all of his work, and he was sure there were certain pieces that they didn’t care for, but they were obligated to at least pretend. 

But on the surface? On the surface, there was opportunity! People from all walks of life and not the narrow, suffocating view of the sewers. People could see his work and he could get new, fresher opinions. 

At first, he wasn’t sure how he was going to do it. Despite everything that happened, being friendly with humans was still somewhat frowned upon by his brothers. It was.. Weird. They had plenty of human or human adjacent friends, but there was something about remaining hidden that seemed so important for their survival. He understood why, but it made making friends one of the most difficult tasks in the entire world. 

That is why Mikey got himself a fancy new phone (needed it after dropping it off the empire state building, don’t ask) and signed up for social media! Because that couldn’t go wrong, could it?

AngelofNewYork Lvl 16, Sagittarius I put the razz in razzamatazz! Posts: 140 Followers: 11 Following: 248

Okay, so it wasn’t exactly popping off the way he was hoping it would. But! That was fine! Because on occasion, he will see his graffiti popping off on other accounts. The tag #graffitiofnewyork, #graffitiphotography, and #artistsinnewyork were all some of his favorites to patrol. People didn’t know they were his but he loved seeing other people take pictures of his work.

It wasn’t like.. All good, you know? Yeah, a lot of the time he saw people praising his work. It looked cool, it meant this or that. Everyone had an opinion, but it seemed like lately he was seeing more and more criticism than he was used to. 

“Whose toddler stole the paint cans”

“Y r the shit artists anon??”

“F”

“This is fuckign vandelism! Arrest this dejenerat!”

… Yeah. And that was fine, he could get over that. Trolls were not something that typically got under his skin, not really. But what does get under his skin is seeing other artists on the scene. Ones who see his art and criticize it to hell and back.

And he gets it. He gets it! Not everyone is going to like his art. Sometimes, Mikey didn’t even like his own art. But it is a disappointment, it does cause him to drag his feet when it comes to the next project. 

Mikey grinned beneath his mask. It was an orange respirator, something to protect his lungs from the paint particles. Raph and Leo mandated it, Donnie built it. Such is most of the equipment that winds up in his hands. 

Along his waist, Mikey had an array of colors hooked along a belt. Ah!! Yes, his belt. It matched his respirator, bright orange with a butt ton of colors sprayed over it! It was the best way he found to transport his paints but!! It served a double purpose! Mikey was dipping his toes in the fashion pools, and that meant extravagant fashions and unique pieces!

All of which meant nothing to someone trying to remain incognito. So, unfortunately, Mikey was in dull, dark colors. He was wearing cargo pants and a hoodie. Both of which really were not very fashion forward but they hid the whole turtle thing, so it was working. But, we digress. This is not about fashion, though it could be, it is about art! Not that fashion isn’t art but-

Art. Mikey’s art. 

The young turtle leapt down from the rooftop, falling into a roll as his momentum carried him through it. He paused as he stood in front of the midtown tunnel entrance. Cars were passing slowly but at this time of night, they were either too busy trying to get home or onto some of their own seedy business to care about what some kid was doing.

If Mikey were a better kid, he’d investigate more. But right now he wasn’t a hero. 

He slowly walked into the tunnel, his hands pushed deep into his pockets as he walked deeper. The lights were a hazy orange-yellow, and Mikey was quietly noting to himself that his beautiful golden spray would not be useful in this light, but in his secret spot it would stand out. As he walked deeper into the tunnel, the sounds became amplified around him. The distant sounds of cars bounced off the walls and soaked into his skin. His walking turned to bouncing as he grew closer to his ideal spot. A maintenance door around a quarter of the way through. Mikey had scoped it out a while ago, it was the perfect place to put up a tag. As he came up on the door, Mikey pulled it open with ease and squeezed his way inside. He made sure to shut the door behind him, looking at the large room that was opened up to him. 

Right across from him, a large cement wall stood clear. He’d have to be worried about drippage but other than that? There was a large crack that settled diagonally. It ran from the upper left all the way down to the lower right, it was clear cut. 

It was the perfect canvas. 

Mikey pulled the first can out of his belt, shaking it violently. The small metal ball clattered against the sides over and over until Mikey felt the pigment within was mixed enough. With a pinch of his fingers, the cap popped off and clattered off to the side of the room, to be forgotten.

Then, he got to work. 

Today, Mikey had a personal goal. He was going to paint some of the sickest birds you have ever seen in your entire life. Mikey pulled out his crumpled up sketchbook paper as he got close to the wall, testing a spray or two before he started his outline. He was using a dark gray, something to be covered up later. 

And on went the layers, slowly but surely. Mikey loved spray painting, it made his brain go outside the box rather than stay inside its constrictions. He had to really focus on what was going where. But that’s why he was using a template. 

Time seemed to stop existing in that room, Mikey didn’t know how long he was down there. But he did know that, eventually, he came to a point where he was pleased with what he had done. He took a huge step back, letting the golden can drop to his side as he observed the scene right before him. Golden doves flying out of the crack in the wall, strong and powerful against the dull concrete. Mikey grinned, his hands moving to his hips. 

“Thinkin' in a bad way, losin' your grip. Screamin' at my face, baby, don't trip. Someone took a big L, don't know how that felt. Lookin' at you sideways, party on tilt.”

Mikey pulled out his phone, angling it as best he could to get the doves all in at once. As his finger hovered over the capture button, light appeared at the corner of his vision. 

Something strong was coming, that’s all Mikey knew, but he didn’t have time to react before a dark mass shot out of the light source and crashed into him. His phone went flying off in some distant direction, a flash of its own and the distinct shutter of the camera app were the only indications that it was still functional. 

Mikey tumbled to the floor, groaning as his own arm smacked him across the face. Had he been hit with a missile? Is that what happened?

Mikey slowly lifted his head up from the floor when he heard a groan that mirrored his own. 

“Leo..?”

“Whose Leo?”

The two figures froze as they stared at each other. Mikey.. Did not recognize this person. Their mask- At least he hoped it was a mask- was black with a spiderweb pattern. Eyes rimmed with a red fabric.

“Who are you??” Mikey questioned, very quick to leap up to his feet. The other figure pushed himself up, holding both his hands up quickly. Mikey felt the itch in his palms, the need to pull his weapon out and defend himself from this stranger. Especially because he could see some kind of device smoking from his wrist.

“It’s okay! I’m Spider-Man!” The stranger shouted, causing Mikey to cock his head to the side. 

“Spider-Man?? Who is that??” He questioned. 

The figure’s arms seemed to falter for a moment, his own head cocking to the opposite side. “You.. You don’t know who Spider-Man is? You know, webslinging hero of New York? Actually- Are we in New York City? Does New York exist?? Am I in Fallout??” 

Mikey blinked slowly at the figure, trying to figure out what this guy was babbling about. A.. A hero? Like in a comic book? He feels like he should be surprised, he really should. But somehow, compared to everything else, this somehow just seemed to make sense to him. Mikey didn’t understand the Fallout bit- but then he remembered his respirator. 

“Oh! No! No, no! I was just painting, no nuclear fallout at all!” Mikey shouted as he reached up and pulled his mask off without thinking. “See? Completely normal!”

“... You’re a turtle,” The stranger said slowly, his eyes turning into slits. Mikey looked down at mask then back up at them. 

“Okay, so not normal! But everyone else is! .. You aren’t panicking.” Mikey noted, his own eyebrows drawing together. 

“Well, no.. I mean, you are pretty weird- No offense! But uh.. I’ve seen a lot of weird stuff through my travels..” Their hand moved up to rub at the back of their neck.

“Travels…?”

Their eyes shot open, then they shook their head. “Isn’t it actually your turn to tell me something about you? Like uh, your name?”

“I’m Michelangelo, but everyone just calls me Mikey!” The turtle responded, holding his hand out, “I guess it’s nice to meet you… Spider-Man?”

“Gah- You know what? Call me Miles,” 

And just like that, the stranger had a name. 

Miles reached out, smacking his hand against Mikey’s. As if the two had done it thousands of times before, their fingers curled around each other in a secret handshake. The two stared at their hands for a long moment before Mikey pulled back first. Had they met somewhere before? Likely not, but Mikey couldn’t help but grin at this immediate connection. Maybe, they could be friends. 

“So, um, do you come through portals often?” Mikey questioned, leaning over to the side to look behind Miles. But the area around him was void of any light from before. Miles looked over his shoulder.

“Huh? Oh! No, not really. I mean, I do on occasion, yeah, but usually I try to stay home. You know, not trying to get in trouble. I just uh.. I guess the villain, his name is Electro..? Well, he fried this watch my friend gave me and.. Now I’m here.” Miles said, gesturing to the smoking device on his wrist. 

“... Can you get home..?” Mikey questioned, placing his hands on his hips. Miles’ eyes widened and he very quickly pulled the watch before his eyes, tapping at the screen as it flickered rapidly. “No.. No! Come on..” Miles muttered, brushing his hand against his face. 

“I.. Well, I can, but also I can’t. Here if I just..” Miles pressed the button on the side of the watch, listening to it chime for a moment. “That should give my location to my friend.. She can come get me, but until then..” 

Miles looked around, “You said you were painting?” 

Mikey’s grin slowly turned full blast as he saw the golden opportunity. He grabbed Miles’ wrist, pulling him the few feet he needed to just to turn the hero in the right direction to see it. 

“Oh, yo!” Miles’ eyes went ride as he crossed the space to come up to the wall. “This is sick, man! I love incorporating the environment around me into the piece, it feels like it really shows love to the canvas, you know?”

Mikey was quick to move up next to him, clapping his hands together, “Yeah! Yeah, ohmigosh, yeah. Wow. I am so glad that you understand, I feel like no one gets it around here!” 

“What? How can people not get it! I swear, art is dead,” Miles complained, crossing his arms over his chest. But he looked over to Mikey. He had no mouth but the little artist could see the smile that laid beneath the mask through his eyes alone. 

“I don’t think it’s dead, it’s just learning. You gotta respect the process,” Mikey noted as he pulled one of the cans from his belt, tossing it over to Mile, “Do you paint?”

Miles caught the can, looking it over for a moment. Ruby red, how appropriate. “Do I paint? All the time. Sometimes when you’re patrolling the streets, you have way too much free time on your hands. Mind if I tag a wall?”

Mikey mulled it over, looking at the space around him- He’d be lying if he said he didn’t have this entire room planned out head to toe. But then he let out a small hum. “Actually, please do. Then I have something to remember you by when you inevitably have to go home,”

Miles seemed to light up at that, shaking his can as he extended his arm out. With a sharp THWIP! A web shot out from his wrist and connected to the ceiling. Miles pulled himself up with it, finding a spot up by the ceiling. “I figure I’ll take over this spot up here where a land turtle like you can’t reach,” Miles teased, looking over his shoulder smugly as he started to spray the wall. 

“Don’t be too sure about that, spider! I may look grounded but I am as free as they come!” Mikey called back, but he refrained from showing off. Instead, he grabbed his own golden can of paint from the ground and moved to stand below Miles. In sync, the two started to paint. 

Mikey put his name in tag, sharp curves but sharper points. Large and proud! With it, he placed one of his signatures. A golden turtle shell- Kind of on the nose, he knows. But at this point, being subtle has not gotten him the results he has wanted.

Alternatively, Miles did much the same. In a bright red, he wrote “Miles” onto the wall. But he was less controlled- No, not less controlled at all. He was deliberate in where he let the paint build up. The drips of the paint rolled down the cement with practiced ease. Mikey admired that. While he was trying so hard to control his paints to make them look nice and proper, but this style was fun and unique!

 The two chatted as they worked, Miles talked about his life- Apparently he was a student and a hero at the same time. Mikey didn’t understand how he did it, Mikey could barely be a hero some days! But Mikey got to talk about his brothers some, he learned that Miles didn’t have any. That was wild! But April didn’t have siblings either so it wasn’t too wild. 

Instead, Miles had an infinite amount of himself out there to bond with. Mikey remembered listening to Donnie once upon a time, how the multiverse would allow for anything to be possible as long as it could be conceived. That meant, there were infinite versions of Miles. That also meant there were infinite versions of himself out there as well. 

But! That’s why Miles was here! Because he was able to travel to these universes. That’s how he met his friend Gwen!

“Yeah! And my friend, Peter, he showed me how to do all this cool stuff! He’s kind of like.. Well, you said your dad was your sensei? He’s kind of like mine,” Miles explained. 

Mikey grinned, “Oh yeah? That’s pretty cool! Maybe one day a version of me will come out of a portal and teach me how to be a cool hero,” he pondered, tapping his chin.

“Yeah? Well if he does, figure out how to come visit me.” Miles grinned. 

Mikey went to open his mouth, but as he did, that light came back. Mikey got a good look at it now. It was bright with various boxes glitching in and out of it. Like a comic tearing apart at the seams! It was cool!

But, that also means that Miles has to go. 

Miles sighs, dropping down to the ground before the portal, turning to face Mikey. “This is my ride..”

Mikey sighed, holding his hand out, “Come visit again, you here? We have an entire room to fill.”

Miles’ hand smacked into his, but instead of leaving it at a handshake, he pulled Mikey in for a hug. “I’ll be back before you know it, promise.” Miles smirked, stepping back from the hug. “Good luck, Mikey.”

Miles stepped through the portal, and Mikey stared at it until it disappeared. He stopped, looking around. There were so many cans everywhere. With a sigh, he gathered them all up. It was nearing morning, he needed to go home. Mikey almost left without his phone! Almost, of course. Because he did hear his text tone right as he was about to leave the room. He rushed over to the side of the room to pick it up. 

Delightfully, the screen wasn’t cracked at all. Donnie had said it could survive a 50 foot drop, and the small ten feet it flew was only a fraction of that. He moved to the center of the room, framing his golden doves once again in the middle of the screen. Mikey stuck his tongue out as he focused in and.. Snap! 

Mikey grinned, tapping the small photo icon to view his masterpiece. 

He paused, however, as he looked down at the small photo that was next up in the preview. He swiped his finger to the right and he couldn’t stop himself from breaking out into laughter.

On his phone screen, a photo of Miles and him both falling to the ground. Miles was flying with a bit more momentum than Mikey was, but both of their eyes were comically wide. He didn’t even realize his phone had captured this moment.

He left it alone, tucking his phone into his pocket as he once again left for the door. 

A week later, Mikey would come back. An image wouldn’t leave his mind, something that felt important enough to brand the room with. On the wall of that maintenance room in the tunnel, he recreated the portal where Miles disappeared. He made the comic boxes, the Ben-Day dots, he even tossed in a spider emblem or two. He didn’t know if Miles would come back, he certainly hoped so. Mikey needed more friends who could understand the things he like. 

Miles didn’t have to come back, he had left enough of an impression on the young artist, but if he did? Mikey had a spray can with his name on it waiting.

“Or you'll be left in the dust, unless I stuck by ya. You're the sunflower.

You're the sunflower.”

[turtlecleric]

@thejudiciousneurotic FOR YOU BBY

---

"So," he starts, clapping his hands together. It jolts you out of the dreamy daze you'd been in after seeing him in those sweatpants, and the knowing smile on his face has you blushing.

This fucker. He knows exactly what those sweatpants do to you.

You clear your throat and pointedly keep your eyes on his face. His face. His face, not his fucking - get it together! Jesus. Anyway. "So?"

"I've been brainstorming what we talked about," he says, as if you can possibly focus on words at a time like this.

You blink. Blink again. Try to think past the fog in your brain. "...Which is?"

"Exploring new territory! I looked into some things, and I think I found a good starting po- eyes up here, darling, come on."

Fuck. That's embarrassing. He's right though, you really need to stop staring. You're pretty sure your face is the shade of a tomato at this point.

"Sorry, Donnie, I uh." Eyes. Up. "I'm listening. New territory. Uh huh. So we're going hiking or...?"

His eyes widen, then he bursts into a fit of laughter that has your whole body flashing hot. It's not your fault the sight of those pants hanging off his hips does things to you! But then he straightens, reaching out to grab your chin and hold your face up so you're forced to keep your eyes locked on his own.

Damn it.

"Metaphorical territory." His amusement shifts into something darker, and you feel the air itself get heavy. "In the bedroom."

Oh. Oh. Right. You'd mentioned yesterday... and then he'd asked... oh.

You feel like you're breathing harder all of a sudden.

"Whuh-" You clear your throat again. "What did you have in mind?"

You see his eyes flick down to your lips and back up again. His hand moves from holding your chin to resting lightly on your throat. He lets out a short hum, stepping closer to crowd into your space and holy shit. Okay. That's... yep. You have to tilt your head back a little to hold his gaze, and you feel him tighten his grip on your throat slightly as you do so. You swallow thickly, and his smile goes a little lopsided before he opens his mouth again. "How do you feel about bondage?"

You're pretty sure your brain just... stopped. Short circuited. Fell out of your skull, maybe. Because you can't seem to make yourself speak. Not with him towering over you and holding you in place like this. Not after he said that while looking at you like that.

You manage to nod frantically.

His eyes flick down again. His grip on your neck tightens once more, just enough to have you gasp, and his smile finishes its transformation into a full-blown smirk.

"Let's get started then, shall we?"

This smug bastard. Goddamn it.

You can't wait.

[azucar-skull]

A couple options to choose from! Do whichever you like best

F!Leo and Casey jr.

Donnie talking to Leo

Usagi talking to Leo (not really rottmnt characters, but at this point Yuichi is an honorary rottmnt char)

Mikey to [someone]

Raph to [someone]

I'mma do the first one!!!! Also I'm flipping a coin for a good or bad ending. You're getting...a bad ending. =) (I've never wrote one before)

27. "Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid." With F!Leo and Casey

Prompt List

.

.

.

They were ambushed.

It was hard to see at night, especially when your flashlights are off in order to avoid drawing attention. But even so, they couldn't see the swarm of Kraang dogs emerging from the dark shadows of the hilled wastelands. Didn't notice their beady red eyes until they were close enough to reach it.

"RUN!", Sensei shouted.

So Casey runs. All the soldiers run. Now caught, there's no use in keeping the lights off. Casey pulled down his night vision mask and dodged his way through the horde, revving his chainsaw. He slashed away at the dogs, gaining some distance.

He didn't notice the one sneaking up behind him.

Casey is sent tumbling down a slope as the dog pounces on top of him. They land harshly at the bottom, the Kraang slamming its claws on top of the teen. Casey pushed it back with his staff, keeping the dog's teeth away from him as the Kraang incessantly tries to reach out and rip off his face. But the Kraang moved fast. And smart.

The dog ducked down under the staff and bit Casey hard in his side. The teen screamed out in agony as he tried to wrestle free but it was no use. The teeth pierced through his armored chest plate and chomped down down down--

A flash of blue blinds his vision and suddenly the Kraang dog is sent flying off. A chunk of flesh came with too.

Casey stares in fear yet awe as he watches the almighty Leonardo beating the Kraang dog to a pulp with his bare hands. He clasps his fists together, punching down on its rib cages again and again and again and again--

"I think you got 'em, Nardo!", Donnie called out. He slid down the slope to the teen. And blinks in horrid surprise. "...Oh...fuck..."

Leo snapped his head around and spotted Casey. He hurried to him in a second.

"Okay...okay, you're okay.", he muttered, unconvincing.

Leo went to scoop his arms under Casey but it sent hot white flashes of pain throughout every part of his body. The teen screams through gritted teeth, clutching his side. He could feel the wound pulsating underneath his hands, his breathing picking up the pace of his fast heartbeat.

"Okay, okay! No moving, got it. Just hang tight.", Leo quickly stammered. "Donnie, gauze."

The softshell dispensed a first aid from his battleshell, ripping the box open to grab the gauze. Leo pried Casey’s hands away which hurt more than it should've. He pressed the layers of gauze against the wound. Casey screams again, flailing and trying to push Leo’s arms back but the slider only pressed harder.

"I know. I know it hurts, Case. I know.", the slider croaked. "But you need to trust me, okay?"

It hurt. It hurt so bad that....fuck...it just hurt. That's all there was. All there had been. Just. Hurt.

"Breathe... breathe. Look at the stars, kid.", Sensei soothed.

Casey tried. He glanced up at the cloudy night sky. Only a few stars were shown from above. So few. How many were there? 3....7....12...

Casey began to feel exhausted. His head spun, the black sky getting blacker.

"Hey, hey, hey! Stay with me!", the leader demanded. "Shit, he's bleeding a lot. Donnie!"

"There's a chunk missing, Leo!"

"DONNIE, PLEASE! "

The softshell hesitated for a moment, but sighed. He grabbed more gauze, soaking up the bleeding with his twin. But it wasn't enough. Casey could feel the warmth oozing out his side and soaking up in his pants and cape and up to his hair.

The stars began shining brighter. And brighter. And brighter until...

All he saw was white.

.

.

.

Don't blame me. You asked for this. I wrote this while baking cookies btw lmfao.

[teenage-mutant-ninja-freak]

Hi could you do the boys w master sprinter wanting them to focus on meditation and stay still and puts their S/O to try and make them crack or fail? Tysm!

Leo

It was such a boring day!

Leo was busy all day, there were no good snack in the lair and you've watched everything on netflix

and now, now he has to meditate because Splinter told him he needs better focus???

wtf?

you are determined to get some attention

he's in the training room, sat on a mat, legs crossed really deep in thought

now, you have to be strategic with this, not just anything is going to make him lose focus

then it hits you

you crawl towards him and give him a little love bite on the neck, his soft spot, his weakness....Or so you thought

nothing

plan B then

you whip out your lighter, get the flame up and tell him if you don't get attention in exactly 3 seconds something in the lair is going up in flames

he oepns his eyes

Raph

Ok this should be a piece of piss

Raph? Focus? when you're around? nah

so you try all your usual tricks

sitting on his lap, calling him pet names while stroking his face, giving him obnoxiously loud kisses all over his face

all that happens it he grunts and tells you he's gonna be in big shit with Splinter if he doesn't do this

you can tell it's killing him tho

so you resort to your next trick

you grab your vibrator and turn it on

he's up, he's grabbed you and you guys are heading to his room

works every time

Mikey

Oh boy

this ain't gonna be a long one because really? Mikey?

focusing? who is she??

you walk in the room, he has a note taped to his forehead that says "DO NOT DISTURB! Master Splinter wants me to focus"

You kind of take a second to think of your next move

"Mikey, I'm horny and I ordered pizza"

He's up and at 'em

yep, that'll do it

Donnie

Ok so this is a littler harder

because obvs he loves you and wants to give you attention

but he also doesn't want to disappoint his dad...

you're really trying to get him to break

and he's really trying to ignore you

and you've run out of jokes after you "best nerdy science jokes" google search

nothing

not even a peep from him

desperate times call for desperate measures...

you shove one of your hands down your pants and start moaning and telling him exactly what he's missing out on

he starts to sweat...

it's only when you start moaning his name that he breaks

he's not a fan of you saying "who's a good puppy?" when he finally opens his eyes tho

[nerves-nebula]

hi!!! you don’t need to answer this one, but i wanted to ask what the turtles’ respective themes/individual presenting styles would be? like clothing or whatnot

(for more doodles)

oH MAN IDK UHHHH. i wrote this and this about it a while back but i can extrapolate on their clothing choices!

Donnie: long sleeves, thick gloves, long pants, anything that covers his skin but isn't too itchy/tight/a weird texture. he doesn't like his bare arms being out in the open, partially to hide his scars and partially just because it feels weird and he likes the weight on them. i've drawn him in sweaters multiple times, and he wears a lot of big jackets when they're all older. baggy clothing = good to him.

Leo: he's more into feminine stuff and form fitting clothing. Like, layering and FASHION and shit. at first because she'd never been allowed to try them before, but as time went on they just became a small part of a bigger wardrobe. he loves to accessorize, enjoys wearing soft colors in general but will really wear anything so long as she thinks she looks good in it.

Mikey: just as likely to wear clothing as to not. He has a ton of graphic tee's, obnoxiously patterned button ups (that are always open) overalls, coveralls, handkerchiefs & masks, and board shorts. i can see him wearing sandals even though he doesn't have to. nearly everything he owns has some kind of stain on it, even if its just a small one (paint, blood, donnie's Science Experiments, ink, charcoal, food, literally whatever)

Raph: doesn't wear clothing unless for a practical purpose (like lab safety, or armor or something). He will treasure and wear clothing he's been gifted though, but that's mostly just Casey's oversized shirts & hoodies. He doesn't really have a sense of style of style beyond "make it red" but will on very rare occasions wear a dress if, for example, he's gotta go somewhere fancy. he finds dresses with pockets more practical for fighting than suits. dresses can also have open backs, which reduces the amount of tearing his shell spikes do to the fabric.

[oozedninjas]

Hii, so I'm not really sure how it works, but can you write something for 2012 Donnie 🫢 I'm a sucker for this cute face...and NSFW?

Please? 😂

18+ / NSFW / oral sex - male receiving / 2012 verse / Donnie and reader are both 26

"I'm fucking addicted to your taste," you gasped before sucking the tip of his cock, tongue sliding in a circle over it.

A deep moan fell off his lips. His hands gripped your head as his body jerked forward. Donnie fought not to thrust into your throat.

"Back up your words, love" he panted, voice slightly trembling. A hot smile played on his lips, showing the endearing space between his teeth. "Imma need some evidence."

You clenched your thighs at his words, shivering before the sudden wave of wetness that soaked your panties. In a single motion, you swallowed him up, deep into your throat. Donnie groaned, cursing under his breath before fisting your hair. You bobbed your head up and down his hard cock, making sure the pace was the right one to melt him.

"Shit, yes. Keep it up, just like that," he urged.

You held onto the side of his shell to forge ahead. His moans became desperate, uninhibited, and drunken-like. Chants of your name mixed with them. You quaffed his cum as soon as he spilled.

For a second, the only audible thing where Donnie's panting voice as he evened his breathing. He gazed into your eyes. God, you adored the after-bliss glimmer in his eyes.

"So fucking tasty," you told him, cleaning the side of your lips.

He cupped your cheek, the size of his hand almost covering an entire side of your head. "Come here. It's my turn to try you."

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 12/?

Prev | Next

Shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen in small towns. Yet here he was, in the middle of an armed robbery. The two men had a handgun each and were waving them around. Jason thought Canada had stricter gun laws, for God’s sake. Jason hid Danny behind his body and thanked whatever little luck he had that Jazz, and Ellie had stayed home.

And all because Jason had wanted some ice cream.

“Nobody be a hero. Give me the money, bitch!”

One man pointed the gun at the poor cashier, who looked close to tears, and the other pointed it at the three customers in the little convenience store.

Usually, Jason would be the first to jump into action, but he had Danny to think about now. Said kid pulled on Jason’s shirt and asked in a low voice, “Daddy, aren’t we gonna do something?”

“No, we’re gonna stay behind these shelves and let the proper authorities deal with it,” Jason whispered.

Danny actually pouted, pouted!

“But daddy, we have to help!”

Jason got Danny and held him close to his chest. Jason got on the floor and made himself small. He didn’t want attention on them and wanted to stop Danny from playing hero.

He should’ve remembered Danny had been one before, and he had powers. His son, his precious baby boy, turned invisible and intangible. Jason just about had a heart attack. Jason couldn’t risk calling out for Danny because that would draw attention to him.

The men were about to leave when they crashed into something invisible.

(If Jason squinted, he could just make out a green force field.)

Suddenly, both men’s pants fell to the floor, and when they looked down, distracted, both guns were knocked out of their hands and landed in front of Jason. Jason got one gun and pointed the other one at the men.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Both men held up their hands and dropped the money. Jason watched as shoelaces were untied and then tied together to one another. The men got scared and tried to run when they heard police sirens, but they fell.

Jason heard a giggle at his side and watched his son return to the visible spectrum.

He sighed; it seemed he had to have a long talk with Danny.

____

Danny pouted in the back seat as Jason lectured him.

They ended up held up for only under an hour after the armed robbery attempt. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone. The cashier and the other three customers in the store knew that the two robbers were Donnie and Tanner Evans, two brothers who were always getting into trouble.

How those two idiots thought they would be able to get away with it, Jason didn’t know. At least in Gotham, the city was big enough for idiots to get away with robbing small convenience stores.

Jason sighed; how did this even happen to him?

It’s because he had shit luck, that’s why. And now his son was mad at him for not playing vigilante and lecturing him for playing hero.

“I’m serious, Danny. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“But I didn’t! What do you want, dad, for me to let others get hurt?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean—look, Danny, you’re too young to make these decisions.”

Danny glared, his eyes turning Lazarus Pit green. (Jason ignored his eyes glowing in response to Danny’s anger.)

“Look, Danny, I’m not mad. I was worried. I’m disappointed you didn’t listen to me,” Danny interrupted.

“Everyone knows that’s worse than anger!”

“You need to listen to what I say. You can’t put yourself in danger that way.”

“Like you’ve never put yourself in danger,” his precious, precious son mumbled, “you used to be a vigilante.”

Jason wished he had Alfie. How did he put up with their danger-seeking habits? It was a miracle the butler was still alive because Jason felt like his heart was trying to leave his body through his chest.

“Wait till I tell your sister about this.”

“Ha! Jazz encourages my heroism! You lose.”

“We’ll see.”

____

“What were you thinking, Daniel James Fenton?”

Danny watched as his daddy smirked at him, pleased. Jazz, the traitor, continued to scream at him.

“But Jazzie,” he whined, “I couldn’t just do nothing.”

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Danny, we aren’t in Amity Park anymore. We’re trying to keep a low profile, and, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re like three years old!”

“I’m sixteen in the body of a five-year-old! And you can’t tell me what to do; you’re not mom!”

Danny regretted saying that as soon as Jazz’s face fell.

“Danny, apologize to your sister,” his dad barked out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “it just came out.”

Jazz took a deep breath and continued, “I accept your apology, but Danny, you must be more careful. What if the cameras caught you?”

His dad had automatically hacked the convenience store’s cameras and found out that only one worked, and it was pointed at the entrance. Thankfully, it hadn’t captured Danny using his powers.

“Look, lad, like I said, I’m not mad, but you have to be careful when and where to use your powers. If I tell you not to, you don’t. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good, now, you’re grounded. No going outside for two days and no ice cream, either.”

“Aw, man, why daddy?”

“You disobeyed a direct order, that’s why.”

Danny pouted, and Jason had to harden his heart. Danny got off the chair and started going to his room.

“Danny lad, wait.”

Danny turned.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I can feel it.”

“Good,” Jason kissed Danny’s forehead. “You scared me today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t lose you, lad.”

Danny hugged his dad and let waves of love and reassurance hit the man. He might be disappointed that he was grounded, but Danny knew how much he had scared his dad. So, he would, mostly, take the punishment gracefully.

Jason watched Danny go to his room and plop hard on the chair.

“You okay, Jay?”

“Yeah, just, I got scared I would lose him, y’know?”

Jazz put her hand on his shoulder, “You’re a good dad.”

“I was so afraid to lose him today. What if I had,” Jason asked hysterically, “I’m a horrible father. I should’ve kept a better eye on him!”

“Jason, you’re spiraling. Danny is fine.”

Jason wondered if Bruce ever felt the way Jason was feeling now. How had Bruce raised a feral Dick Grayson and a rule-breaking Jason Todd? He kind of wished he had his dad near him to ask.

(He would take Danny away; Jason could never talk to Bruce again.)

“Do you think I handled it right?”

Jason wanted some reassurance.

“You did better than you think. Trust me.”

Jason smiled sadly. He hoped he wouldn’t screw things up with Danny.

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