#drawing mikey was like sleeping on the cold side of a pillow

[hasello]

CUTE CLOTHES ALERT

will you believe that Raph started in a black tie but my spotify decided to play barbie girl and everything went on fire

[bellaxgiornata]

Safe Haven [Chapter Three]

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5k [Series Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+ for this series; contains violence, drug use, domestic abuse, smut, hurt/comfort, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers

a/n: Finally getting another update for this series! There's some domestic abuse mentioned so just remember to always heed the tags because I don't want to spoil future chapters with specific warnings! You also get a Mikey POV at the end--yes, this story will occasionally have his POV!! And I love to scream about Mikey, so always feel free to join me in screaming about him.

Tag list: @loveroftoomanyfandoms @farfromstrange @rotscinema @1988-fiend @shouldbestudying41 @shiorimakibawrites @norestforthewickedshelby @winterschildren17 @acharliecoxedfan @roseallisonparker @yarrystyleeza @dramaholic18 @mattkinsella2 (tagged your secondary I guess, hope that's ok!) @ms-murdockswift (I apologize if tumblr messed up tags AGAIN)

You jolted awake in bed with a gasp, your heart thrumming heavily in your chest and your thin tee-shirt clinging to your dampened skin. You were lying in a bit of cold sweat along the sheets and breathing hard, blinking rapidly as you tried to remind yourself that you’d only been dreaming. Rolling onto your side, you clutched your pillow tight and buried your face into it in search of comfort. You tried hard to shove back that nightmare which had gripped you so tight, attempting to erase the images from your mind’s eye. 

You hated the mornings you woke up like this, desperately wishing the fear would just disappear. You missed just living your life. It had been so long since you’d been able to sleep without fear of a nightmare holding you under, drowning you in memories you wished to forget. It had been just as long since you’d been able to move somewhere and stay there permanently, without always having the constant need to look over your shoulder and monitor your every action to make sure you didn’t slip up. 

What you were doing wasn’t living.

But you didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, either. Not if you wanted to stay alive. Because you were positive he’d kill you if he found you this time. The most you could do was find solace in the fact that you had more freedom now than you’d had back then.

With a soft sigh, you unburied your face from the pillow, reaching a hand out to your phone on the nightstand. Your heart was still steadily slowing back down to a normal pace as you tapped the screen, checking the time. It was barely seven in the morning. You figured Megan had already gone into work about thirty minutes ago now. 

You set the phone back down, raising your other hand from out of the sheets and rubbing both of them over your eyes with a groan. There was no way you would manage to fall back asleep after that, you might as well wake up. 

Tossing the sheets off of yourself, you sat upright in the bed and threw your legs over the side. For a moment you just sat there, silently contemplating the day. You figured you’d make a coffee downstairs, grateful that Megan hadn’t switched to being a tea drinker all of the sudden. Maybe you’d go for a walk, orient yourself around this part of Dublin a little more. You were still trying to find a decent coffee shop, one you wouldn’t mind working on your writing in some days just for a change of scenery. And for coffee that was better than the pods Megan had. 

Pushing yourself off the bed, you rose to your feet and grabbed your phone from the charger. Padding along the floor you made your way over to the window, drawing back the curtain to let in the soft, gloomy morning light. From the almost week you’d been here now you’d noticed it seemed to be chilly and rainy more often than not in Dublin. 

You hesitated when the curtain had been entirely pulled back though, your eyes focusing on the bedroom window directly across from yours. You weren’t used to seeing those curtains drawn back in the mornings and it took you a moment to remember last night. Michael’s somber and inquisitive eyes briefly flashed through your memory. Hand tightening around the fabric of the curtain, you remembered the way he’d found you near-panic attack. How he’d looked at you like he could see right through you to your own pain that you tried so hard to desperately hide, as if you couldn’t remotely hide it from him.

Dangerous, you told yourself. It would be dangerous if he could see right through you like that.

Swallowing hard, you pushed away from the window. You didn't want to think about any of that right now.

Making your way downstairs, you took a sharp right turn, walked a few steps down the hall, and turned right into the kitchen. You flipped on the light before you headed over to the coffee machine and turned it on. While that started up, you reached up into a nearby cabinet and found one of Megan’s travel mugs–this one purple–and pulled it down. You set it under the machine before spinning her little coffee pod carousel on the counter beside it, eyeing all the pods that sounded way too sweet for your taste. You smiled when you found a single breakfast blend and immediately popped it into the machine, waiting while your coffee brewed.  

It was barely ten minutes later that you found yourself bundled in your lightweight parka with the steaming mug of coffee in your hands. You exited the house, pulling the door shut and locking it behind yourself before tossing the house key into your coat pocket. Turning, you began to make your way down the short drive, your shoes trudging over the pavement. But when you rounded the tall stone fence, you unexpectedly almost ran headfirst into someone.

“Shit!” you shouted.

A bit of hot coffee spilled out of the open lid of your mug when you’d abruptly startled backwards, the liquid burning your hands.

“Fuck, m’sorry!”

You shook your hand beside you, trying to shake off the hot coffee as you sucked in a breath from the stinging pain of it. At least the cold air felt good against your hand.

“Didn’t burn yourself, did ya?”

Glancing up at the deep accented voice, you finally realized who it was that you’d run into. Michael. He was staring back at you with his brows furrowed and his eyes creased in concern, the corners of his mouth downturned in a deep set frown. He looked so sorrowful. 

Forcing a smile onto your mouth, you shook your head. “No, no I’m good. Don’t worry about it,” you assured him. “You just uh, startled me is all.”

"M'sorry," he apologized again, a sheepish smile tugging at his mouth. "I didn't hear ya comin'."

"It's–it's fine, really," you assured him. 

"We really should stop meetin' like this, yeah?" he said, a nervous chuckle falling out of him.

Both of your hands tightened around your mug, the warmth of it heating you as you watched him. "Like what, exactly?" you asked.

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck as he ducked his head, averting his eyes from you. Was he really this timid? Bashful, even? That was…unexpected. 

"Awkwardly," he answered. 

Quirking a brow, you eyed him curiously. "Is there a better way to literally run into someone?" you asked. 

“Well I–I don’t uh,” he began, a slight grimace tightening his features as he fumbled for words. “Just sayin’ this isn’ exactly how I’d choose to meet ya again, I s’pose.”

Your brow rose even higher at his words. Had you flustered the Irish mobster fresh out of prison? What the hell did that mean?

Head tilting to the side, you couldn’t help the question that escaped your lips despite your better judgment. “And how would you choose to meet me then?” you asked.

He froze, his head still ducked down but his eyes finding you underneath his dark lashes. His mouth had fallen open at your question, his brows raising up onto his own forehead. He looked stunned that you’d so brazenly asked him that, but you didn’t remotely back down as you focused on him before you. Even though everything inside of you was screaming to end the conversation and carry on with your day, you somehow found yourself fascinated by him yet again. 

“I–I s’pose I don’t know,” he muttered, pink tinging his cheeks. 

You nodded, bringing your mug to your lips for a drink. After swallowing down the comforting and warm liquid, your tongue slipped out to catch the drops that had gotten onto your lips. Michael’s eyes were drawn to the movement of your tongue before you caught them flickering back up to your own.

“Well,” you began, your mind still screaming 'danger' and 'run away' as you eyed him, “I’ll let you get back to your day.”

“Right, yeah,” he said softly.

You turned and continued on your way past the fence at the exact same moment Michael had continued on his way, the pair of you falling in step beside each other unintentionally. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you bit your lip as Michael’s gaze fell on his feet. A genuine chuckle fell out of him before he glanced up, his eyes meeting yours again. For a moment you found yourself suddenly lost in them, coming to a stop on the street.

There was a lot hidden in his eyes, just under the brown and flecks of green. You found yourself losing yourself in the depth of them, drawn into whatever was lying just behind all that darkness and pain so obvious on the surface. It felt like if you stared long enough, his eyes gradually gave way to something light and gentle buried just beneath it all. As if you searched just a little deeper you’d find the man he seemed to keep locked away in there, one he didn’t let out often. It wasn’t until you heard his voice that you fell out of whatever strange trance you’d somehow briefly lost yourself in. 

“I was goin’ on a walk this way,” he muttered. “Towards the shops. Been awhile since I uh, could go to them.”

Blinking hard, you tried to collect yourself. “Yeah I was–was going that way myself. Still sort of new here and all,” you said. 

“D’ya–” Michael paused, a nervous little huff of laughter breaking his question as he glanced away from you. “D’ya want some company? I mean I can’t show ya around or anythin’–haven't been here in a few years and all–but I–I was already goin’ that way.”

For once it was your turn to glance away nervously, your gaze dropping down towards your coffee mug. You found yourself conflicted. 

On the one hand, it was incredibly reckless to continue to let one of these Kinsellas into your life. To put yourself on their radar. The deeper in you got with them, the closer they might become to discovering you weren’t who you said you were. And you had absolutely no idea how they would react to that knowledge, even if they ever could understand the reasoning behind it. It wasn’t necessarily in your best interest to befriend one of them and risk jeopardizing your life here–in whatever way that might mean.

But on the other hand, you couldn’t deny your gut wanted you to say yes. You weren’t blind, Michael was an attractive man. And it had certainly been awhile since you’d actually been able to be physically intimate with someone–something you wouldn’t exactly bat an eye at if he ever was interested in a fling. And if you were being honest with yourself, you admittedly wanted to know more about this man and that sadness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin. You wanted to catch more glimpses of that softheartedness he seemed to keep hidden away. 

But under no circumstances could you let yourself get too close to him.

“You know what? Why not,” you said after a moment, shoulder rising and falling in a shrug.

Michael’s head rose, his eyes falling on you with a faint look of surprise in them. “Yeah?” he asked.

You shrugged a shoulder again, shooting him a friendly smile. If you were going to fuck your plan to lay low up a bit, you might as well enjoy doing it.

“Yeah,” you said, continuing on walking as he fell in step beside you once again. “Maybe you’ll keep me from getting lost.”

“Well I s’pose I can manage that,” he said.

As the pair of you walked on, turning down another street and making your way out of the neighborhood, you couldn’t help but notice the small smile now residing on his mouth. Raising your cup to your lips, your arm brushing against his with how close he was beside you, you drank down more of your coffee. Momentarily your eyes closed, reveling in the drink. It wasn’t the same as what you usually drank at the coffee shops you’d discovered over the years, but it was coffee, and right now that was enough.

“So why’re ya up so early?” Michael eventually asked, breaking the silence.

You swallowed down your drink, your eyes opening and focusing on where you were going as you spoke. “I couldn’t sleep. So I decided to just get up,” you admitted. “You?”

“Same,” he replied, turning to look at you. “Why couldn’t ya sleep?”

Your head spun towards him, shooting him a pointed look as you raised a brow. “Why couldn’t you sleep, Mr. Kinsella?”

His mouth curved into a grin, the brightness reaching his eyes. “I can’t tell ya that now can I?”

The corner of your own mouth tugged up into a sarcastic grin in response. “Then I suppose you understand why I can’t tell you that, either,” you quipped.

He laughed lightly and your smile grew at the transformation you saw overtake his features. He looked vastly lighter than you’d yet to see him. Like a heavy weight had briefly been lifted from his shoulders. If you’d thought he’d looked attractive before, all dark and brooding, he was certainly handsome with his eyes crinkled at the corners and a dimple barely visible just beneath his dark beard.

“Ahh, a woman of mystery, yeah?” he teased.

Your eyes instantly darted away towards your feet, the smile faltering on your lips. Clearing your throat quickly, you forced a shrug that seemed indifferent. “I wouldn’t say that,” you said, trying hard to keep your voice even. 

“Well, I’m sure by now ya already know ‘bout me,” he said, his tone suddenly softer.

“I don’t, actually,” you told him.

The pair of you turned another corner, a handful of shops and restaurants coming into view. You’d come this way yesterday and gotten acquainted with a few places in the area, but today you were hoping to find a coffee shop to maybe try out tomorrow morning when you inevitably couldn’t sleep again.

“No?” he asked curiously.

“I told you,” you began, taking in the sight of his surprised face yet again beside you, “I just moved here a few days ago.”

“So ya don’t know anythin’?” he pressed.

Sighing, your fingers drummed against the coffee mug in your hands. You needed to tread carefully here. He probably wouldn’t be too thrilled if you straight up called him out on being part of an Irish mob that sold drugs. Granted, that was about the extent of your knowledge because you’d intentionally not gone digging into the Kinsellas.

“I know you just came back from prison yesterday,” you confessed. “My sister chats with Birdy, apparently. But that’s about all I know besides your name.”

“And ya still…decided to come on this walk with me? Knowin’ that?” he asked curiously.

“Figured you wouldn’t hurt me in public at least,” you joked, glancing back at him.

Something flickered behind his eyes so quickly you almost didn’t catch it before he laughed lightly and looked away. But you’d certainly caught it. Sorrow and regret.

So he’s hurt people, maybe more than that. That really shouldn’t come as a shock, but somehow it did. The man beside you right now seemed far too gentle for that. You’d figured his sentence was related to the drug dealing and money laundering you expected his family did, but now you wondered how injudicious your joke had actually been. It's not like you knew the reasoning for his actions.

“I’m sorry, that was a poor joke,” you apologized. 

“I was tellin’ the truth last night,” he muttered as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his dark brown jacket. “I’m not goin’ to hurt ya.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

His head turned towards you, his brows furrowing. “Ya don’t believe me?” he asked, hurt evident in his tone.

“No, no it’s not necessarily that it’s just–” you stopped short, your lips still parted as you tried to think of a way to explain yourself.

His hazel eyes were boring into you as both of you slowed on the sidewalk. It felt like he was looking right through you again, just like he’d done last night at the window. As if he was seeing through every wall you’d ever constructed to keep everyone out. It was unsettling and your heart began to rapidly pound in your chest under the weight of his scrutiny.

“You’ve been hurt before, yeah?” he asked gently.

Your mouth opened and closed a few times, struggling to find the words to tell him he was wrong, to keep him from further seeing through you like this, but nothing was coming out. Abruptly you came to a stop, ready to turn and bolt. How had he seen that so easily?

“Hey, ’s’alright,” he murmured as he stopped beside you.

But it wasn't alright. Because his voice was in your damn head again, as if he was right there hissing his venomous words into your ear like the snake he is. You flinched, eyes closing instantly.

"How about I slice you open for each time you've tried to run?"

Teeth snapping together and jaw clenching shut, your fingers gripped the mug between your hands until they ached. A sharp exhale blew from your nose as you took a shaky step back, your eyes still firmly closed.

“Grace?” Michael’s hesitant voice rang out. “Ya okay?”

You could see the knife so clearly in your mind again as your body trembled on the sidewalk. It was like you were there again, right in front of him. You could see the intimidating way he so effortlessly tossed the black handle of the blade back and forth between his hands, his eyes honed in on you like you were a wounded animal he’d finally cornered.

“I’m always going to find you,” he growled. “Because you’re mine , you hear me? There isn’t anywhere you can run from me here, girl. And each time you try,” he continued, extending the knife in his hand towards your stomach, “I’m going to add another cut. But if you piss me off enough?” He leaned in towards you, his lips pulled back in a feral snarl as he raised the knife, the blade grazing the skin of your neck. “I’ll take your pretty little fucking head.”

“Grace!”

Your eyes flew open, Michael’s face just inches from yours. His hands were firmly gripping your shoulders, fingers digging in past your jacket. His eyes were full of fear and worry as they jumped back and forth between your own, searching for something. 

“Fuckin’ hell, ya alright?” Michael asked.

Swallowing hard, you shook your head, trying to force back the memory. Your breath was coming in hard and fast, your knees shaking beneath you. How had Michael made you come undone like that? How the hell could he see you more clearly than everyone else? You didn’t like it, whatever it was. It made you uncomfortable.

Taking a firm step back from him, Michael’s hands released your shoulders, his hands hovering in the air between you both. His expression fell at the noticeable distance you’d just placed between the pair of you. 

“I–I should go,” you stuttered out, gesturing a thumb behind you. “This–this wasn’t a good idea.”

“Grace, wait,” Michael said, taking a step closer.

Instinctively you took another step back, forcing a tight smile onto your lips as you willed them to stop trembling. “Enjoy your walk, Michael,” you said quickly.

You turned, swiftly walking back down the sidewalk in the direction you’d just come with your head ducked low into your jacket and your mug clutched to your chest. Tears were stinging at your eyes as you tried to shove that memory into the far back corners of your mind. You’d find a coffee shop another day.

Mikey was stretched out along his sofa with a book in his lap, though it had been open to the same page for a while now. He’d barely been able to focus on it, his mind kept wandering back to when he’d seen Anna pass by the restaurant near her school earlier today, the one he'd sat at to hopefully catch a glimpse of her. 

And he had. She’d looked so grown since last he’d seen her; less like a child and more like the young woman she was fast becoming. It had taken everything inside of him to remain sitting in that booth and not go bolting out of the door just to say hello to her. He’d missed her so much and had missed out on so much of her life. It physically pained him how much he'd missed.

But he was going to do his best to stay straight and get the courts to let him have a relationship with his daughter now that he was out. He would do whatever he could in his power to make that happen. He needed to be in her life, in whatever capacity he could. Nothing else was more important to him.

A knock at Michael's front door caught his attention, breaking through his thoughts.

His eyes rose from his book, glancing down the hall to his front door. His brows drew together as he wondered who it would be stopping by his place tonight. Jimmy, maybe? 

With a sigh he closed his book, tossing it onto the coffee table before he rose to his feet. He made his way out of the sitting room and down the hall past his kitchen. He could see the unmistakable silhouette of Birdy through the dark glass of his front door as he reached it. The second he opened the door he was met with her bright smile.

"Good evenin', pet," she greeted him warmly. "Ya mind if I come in? Brought ya some food."

Michael's eyes dropped down to the covered dish she was carrying in both of her hands. He couldn't fight the small smile on his mouth as he stepped aside and invited her in. Birdy had always been like a mother to him, always looking out for him and his brother. Apparently that hadn't changed. 

"Thank ya, Birdy," he told her as she headed straight for the refrigerator in the kitchen, "but ya didn’t have to do that."

"I had to make sure ya had something home-cooked after all that time ya were away, dear," she called back. "And I'll see about getting ya some more things."

"Ya don't need to do that," Michael told her as he made his way back to the sitting room and over to the sofa. "I don't want to make extra work for ya."

"It's no trouble at all, pet," Birdy told him, making her way down the hallway towards him. "'S'what family does for each other." She paused in the doorway of the sitting room, shooting Michael a smile. "Missed havin' ya around, Mikey. We all have. All of us were just waitin' for ya to get out."

Michael smiled, nodding in response. He had certainly missed everyone as well–though most of all he’d missed Anna. 

Birdy adjusted the jacket she was wearing, the smile never faltering on her face. "Was especially hard on Frank," she continued. "And your brother. It was tough on them without ya. Carryin' the load all on their own. I mean Eric is–is a good boy," she told him, her eyes softening as she gazed back at him, a small shrug pulling up her shoulders. "But he's not you."

Michael's smile lessened a little. He knew what Birdy was getting at–Frank wanted him back and working for them again. But he wouldn't do that. Not this time. He needed a proper job so he had a chance to actually see his daughter again. He wouldn't be swayed. 

"But you're back now," Birdy said, pushing off the wall and making her way towards Michael. "That's the important thing."

"Yeah," Michael agreed, nodding lightly. 

Closing the distance between them, Birdy gently grasped his face in her hands before leaning down towards him on the sofa, planting a light kiss to the top of his head. Michael’s eyes momentarily closed at the bit of affection despite being all too aware of her ulterior motives for this visit. 

"Ya understand what I'm sayin," she continued, pulling away from him, her hands still cupping his cheeks. "I know ya do. You're not like your mother. You're a Kinsella. And we stick together." Something caught her eye out of the back door, her attention lingering on it as she spoke. "Always." 

When her hands fell from his face, Michael glanced out behind him towards what had caught Birdy's focus. It was you, pacing around the back garden on your phone with a glass of wine in one hand. You looked upset as you spoke, the light from the back of your half-sister’s house shining just enough for him to see your expression.

“Interestin’ one, that one is,” Birdy said softly.

Michael’s brows instantly drew together at her tone, a crease forming between them. He recognized that tone–it meant you’d done something to draw Birdy’s attention. She thought there was something off about you. Something that warranted looking into. 

For some reason that made Michael uncomfortable.

She wasn’t wrong though, you were interesting. Especially after the encounter he’d had with you today. You’d panicked at the mention of having been hurt before, practically shutting down and almost falling into a panic attack right there on the footpath. Clearly, you had a past. One that must’ve been fairly dark to make you react like that. He’d noticed it almost instantly, just from looking at your face, because he saw that same haunted expression reflecting back at him in the mirror every damn day. 

“Why do ya say that, Birdy?” he asked curiously, looking over at her.

“She’s not like her sister,” Birdy answered slowly, her eyes still tracking your movements around the garden. “There’s somethin’ more to her, I can just feel it.” Her attention shifted towards Michael, one of her brows raising up onto her forehead. “What’s your take on her, pet? I saw ya with her this mornin’.”

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. The smile only grew further on Birdy’s mouth, a knowing look crossing her face. 

“Ya sweet on her, Mikey?” she asked, her eyes briefly flickering outside to you before returning back to him. “I don’t blame ya, she’s cute. Certainly an interestin’ young thing, yeah?” Birdy’s eyes narrowed just a fraction. “What’s her story, pet?”

“Don’t know,” Michael answered honestly. “She only just moved here from the States. Lives with her sister. I know ‘bout as much as ya.”

“Yeah?” Birdy asked, eyeing Michael closely. “I notice ya didn’t answer my other question. Ya sweet on the girl?”

Heat crept over Michael’s cheeks, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips as his gaze dropped down towards his hands. “Like I said,” he answered, his voice a lot quieter than before, “I don’t really know her.”

Birdy hummed out a noise, the sound catching Michael’s attention. She was staring back at him with that knowing look on her face again. Michael swallowed hard, his hands nervously fidgeting in his lap as his cheeks only heated a little further.

“Just be careful, love,” Birdy told him, zipping her jacket up. “And don’t go sharin’ the family secrets.”

Michael huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “Ya know I wouldn’, Birdy.”

“Well if ya find out what’s off ‘bout the girl, ya come tellin’ me,” she said, a firm look on her face. “Ya hear me, Michael? We gotta look out for the family.”

“Yeah, I hear ya, Birdy,” he answered. “But I think you’re off on this one.”

Birdy playfully pointed a finger at his chest as she said, “My gut’s never been wrong before, pet.”

Michael swallowed hard, running a hand awkwardly over the back of his neck. He didn’t know how to respond because Birdy generally did have a knack for reading people, and he had noticed something off about you himself. But he’d also thought you’d seemed…sweet. 

“Make sure ya eat somethin’,” Birdy said, gesturing a hand behind her towards the kitchen. “Don’t want ya becomin’ skin and bone on us. And Frank said to speak with Amanda at the dealership tomorrow for work.”

“Thank ya,” he answered quickly.

“Don’t thank me, pet,” Birdy said, turning and making her way out of the sitting room. “Ya know where I think ya belong. G’night, Mikey.”

“G’night, Birdy,” he called out.

It was a moment before Birdy exited, closing the door softly behind herself on the way out. Michael rose to his feet from the sofa, about to head over and lock the door behind her, but then he glanced out his back door and spotted you. 

You were still out there, pacing the back garden on the phone. Except now you’d lost the glass of wine, your hand running roughly through your hair. You were very obviously stressed about whatever that phone call was about. He found himself contemplating stepping outside when you got off the phone. Maybe he could find a way to apologize for upsetting you this morning. 

But no, he told himself, breaking his gaze from you, he’d only upset you further. He was sure of it. More than likely he’d make an ass of himself with how awkward he was, and you seemed rather private yourself–not that he didn’t relate. It wouldn’t be a good idea. 

Though as he made his way down the hall to his front door, clicking the lock into place, he found himself hoping for another stolen moment with you. He was strangely craving the sound of your voice already and wondering what it would sound like to hear you laugh. To see a genuine smile light up your face.

Michael paused as he turned away from the front door, surprised by his own thoughts. Was Birdy right, then? Was he sweet on you?

[mitsuyascumsock]

First kiss HCs

Mikey

Awkwardness level: 3/10

You were more nervous than he was, obviously. You had a good date down at the beach and you'd been on a few dates with him beforehand, so he decided it was time you go over to his place to hang out. It started out alright, honestly! But eventually you found yourself leaning against him while watching a movie. It had felt like hours passed (when in reality it was 20 minutes) and suddenly you felt a hand on your shoulder, his eyes traveling down to your lips once you looked over to him. "(Y/N)?" He asked, smiling down at you widely. You're not sure what came over you but you kissed him suddenly, lips pressed softly against his before pulling away with a shakey breath. ". . . I was going to say that there was dorayaki on your cheek, heheh!"

Draken

Awkwardness level: 1/10 but only because of his height

Draken is super tall, so he'd most likely be the one to initiate the kiss. As soon as you two started dating, he began taking you on nightly motorcycle rides with him so you could get some fresh air before bed. He'd never admit that your arms around his waist calmed him after stressful days, but each time he felt you around him his heart melted slightly. As soon as you two got off the bike his arms would be around you, which helped to keep you warm during the cold nights. You let out a small shiver once he pulled away so he took off his coat and draped it around your shoulders, he took one look at your red face and he decided it was the perfect moment. His hands went on either side of your face, pulling you towards him before he pressed your lips together for a slow kiss that lasted nearly a minute. "Goodnight, (Y/N). I'll pick you up in the morning."

Mitsuya

Awkwardness level: 0/10

This man is a GOD. He's so caring and pays so much attention to detail, he'd create the perfect date for you two. He brought you into his apartment which he decorated especially for the date, candles lit everywhere and couch livingroom rearranged to have blankets and pillows all over the floor for you two to cuddle on. You two had already had dinner at your favorite restaurant so now it was time for him to shine. He had actually hoped you'd have your first kiss sooner, but he was 100% okay with taking things slow for you. He loves you, after all. As soon as you're in the door he led you to sit down with him to watch all of your favorite movies, letting you cuddle against his chest while he played with your hair. He slowly pulled you up and pressed a small kiss against your forehead. . . And another one on your cheek, then one on your nose. "May I?" He asked, moving a hand so he could trace your lips with his thumb. He stared down at you adoringly as you nodded. "Thank you, angel." He pressed his lips to yours, moving you to stradle his waist so you could be in full control. He'd never want to make you uncomfortable.

Chifuyu

Awkwardness level: 7/10

Chifuyu is such a cutie. He had you over in his room after a date and he wasn't sure what to do. After giving you a teddie bear and old shōjo manga he thought you'd like, he was really at a loss. You two sat on the bed with your backs against the wall, nervously staring at the TV infront of you while having at least two feet between you both. After a few episodes of whatever you were watching Chifuyu decided to place his hand near you, wanting to see what you'd do. You placed your hand on his. Your fingers laced together and you both turned beet red, scooting closer together until there was barely any space left between you two. "Hey.. Chifuyu?" You asked, causing him to look over at you too quickly, leading to his lips clumsily pressing against yours for a second. It didn't take him too long to realize what he just did, causing him to let out a small scream. "It's okay! It was cute!" "IT WASN'T CUTE! YOU'RE JUST BEING NICE!" You shut him up by pressing an actual kiss against his lips, smiling softly for your boyfriend. "Better?" "Y-yeah."

Hakkai

Awkwardness level: 100000/10

Listen- I love him but we all know the man is awkward. The date started off great! He took you to a lake to go swimming and he held you whenever your feet couldn't touch the bottom. However, he did bring Mitsuya. You know, as his wingman. Hakkai was extremely emberassed whenever he remembered you were in a bathing suit too, he became a stuttering mess who looked like a tomato. His hands were stiff when he touched you, desperately trying not to make you uncomfortable. "Do you need a shirt? I can go get one f..for you-" "Hakkai, we're literally in the water. I'm okay but thank you." You always giggled at his shyness, but you have to admit that having Mitsuya witness the very first kiss you two shared was extremely emberassing. Hakkai pulled you onto the deck and against his chest, pressing his stiff lips against yours before licking you for some reason. Don't worry though, you can teach him how to get better!

Ran

Awkwardness level: 0/10, shockingly.

Ran wouldn't care when or where it happened, he would only care that you actually enjoyed it. He had taken you out on a date to a bookstore you liked, telling you that you could pick out anything you wanted and you'd go back to his place so he could read it out loud for you. You, being the clown you are, found a book called "Go The F*ck To Sleep", so you instantly chose that one. He gave you an amused chuckle once he saw what it was and agreed to buy it. As soon as you got onto his bed, he decided to tuck you in. "It's a bedtime story, it's only fitting~" he hummed to you, laying down next to you on his side. He read the book to you, both of you trying to contain your laughter throughout it until the very end. As soon as he was finished he planted a kiss against your forehead. You looked so peaceful, eyes half lidded while smiling up at ever so softly. How was he supposed to resist? His hands traveled to your waist, pulling you closer to him before he attached his lips to your neck, drawing out a soft hum from you. He traveled up towards your mouth, giving you enough time to pull away if you wanted to before finally placing his lips against yours once he knew it was safe. You two kissed for a few more minutes until you let out a small yawn. "It's okay doll, let's go to sleep. I'll hold you."

[braindeadbaddie]

The Ghosts That Haunt Us

I know you hear me when I cry

I try to hold it in at night

When you’re sleeping next to me 

But it’s your arms that I need this time

Chifuyu bites his lip, trying to swallow down the sobs that threaten to climb out of his throat. He grabs a pillow, stuffing his face into it and biting to muffle all the sounds that threaten to leak from his overflowing heart. 

The pillow is stained with his tears, his body shaking in silent sobs, and from the ghost of a cold cold body that he once held in his arms years ago.

Besides him, he can feel Takemichi twitch awake, shifting to wrap an arm around him. He feels him hesitate before settling his arm across his waist, pulling him into the warmth of his embrace.

God, what a terrible boyfriend he is. 

Up late, picturing a black sea and a grey sky, when he has the warmth of the sun and a bright blue sky right besides him. 

But he can’t help it. 

Tonight, he misses Baji.

Tonight, he needs him.

Look at the cards that we’ve dealt 

If you were anybody else

Probably wouldn’t last a day 

Every tear’s a rain parade from hell 

He loves Takemichi.

Their relationship isn’t laced in beauty or innocence. It was originally a partnership bred from the need to save the future. But he’s understanding, and kind, and always there to help. He’s sweet and dedicated, fiercely loyal, and so so loving. 

They sought comfort in each other because they understood each other. Better than anyone else. 

He knows Takemichi doesn’t blame him for the days that he can’t reciprocate his love, because his heart is somewhere else. He knows Takemichi understands more than anyone why he can’t share his food sometimes. He knows that Takemichi understands, better than anyone. 

Mistakes were made and there were casualties of Takemichi’s battle against time, and even though they managed to find a future where everyone could be together, the ghosts of the past still haunt them both. 

But sometimes, he wonders if their love is born out of necessity rather than true love.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to

Admit that it hurts you

Chifuyu knows it’s hard. He cries over Baji often. 

The night of his birthday and the day of. The week of Halloween, the days before when he didn’t have his friend. Sometimes, he cries when he sees a black cat or a stray. He cries on dates they had made special memories of.

Some days are a light rain, other are storms that flood.

Chiufyu thinks that he must only exists in tears and in numbness. There are days he can feel, so all he feels is pain, and days where he can’t, so he feels nothing. 

Takemichi seems to be able to handle it so well. But Chifuyu knows. He knows this is too much for him to bear. 

Takemichi already saved the future, so he should be able reap the fruits of his labor. 

And yet here he is, fighting a losing battle to save Chiufyu. 

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

Takemichi, more than anyone, hurts seeing Chifuyu cry. And yet, he has to deal with it the most. 

He feels the most guilty, the most responsible. Because he knew and he still couldn’t do anything about it. 

Chifuyu sees it in Takemichi’s eyes when he wakes up with a start after dreaming of black and grey, and red. So much red. The look in Takemichi’s eyes, screaming that he shoudn’t be here. That there should be someone else. 

Someone to go to the pet store with him every morning. Someone who helps him fight his battles. Someone who will split his yakisoba with him. Someone named Keisuke Baji. 

And Chifuyu wants to comfort him and tell he loves him and loves having him around.

But it feels pointless when his tears later that night wash away all his words. 

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage 

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

On good nights, Chifuyu will lay his head in Takemichi’s chest, curled into his side, letting him run mindless patterns into his back.

Takemichi tucks his head under his chin and whispers sweet nothings to him.

On those night, they feel like a normal couple, instead of a pair cursed by time.

Though I wish he were here instead

Don’t want that living in your head

He just comes to visit me 

When I’m dreaming, every now and then

Its hard to count the amount of times Chifuyu has woken up screaming another man’s name.

But the nightmares are so frequent, it’d probably be easier to count the times he didn’t.

In his dreams, he’s always a first-year in middle school, walking through the hallways to find a nerd who can’t spell or write properly. So he helps the poindexter write a letter and in return, he gives him a friendship with so much love that it’s enough to last his whole life.

And in the dream, he spends so many days on the floor of his or the other boy’s bedroom tutoring him and teaching him all sorts of things. And they play with stray cats that come through the boy’s windows. And there’s so much peyoung yakisoba. And at the end of his dream, he’ll get to hold him at night, and he feels warm…

…until the warmth starts to feel wet too.

And suddenly he’s back in a junkyard, holding the boy he loves as he bleeds out.

Helpless and useless.

So he screams.

And after all that we’ve been through

There’s so much to look forward to

What was done and what said

Leave it all here in this bed with you

“Thank you,” Chifuyu whispers into the dark bedroom.

Takemichi gives him a confused look. “What for?”

Chifuyu draws patterns into Takemichi’s chest. Tonight is a good night.

“For saving me. I can’t even imagine what I was like in that first future. I probably didn’t have anyone to rely on, y’know. In Toman, I’ve only really been close to you…and well…y’know.” He doesn’t want to say it, lest he break the peaceful spell his mind has cast on him today.

Takemichi tightens his arm around Chifuyu. “Ah, well. You don’t have to thank me. I just did it to get out of my apartment. I’ve been stuck there like every future.”

Chifuyu chuckles, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend’s torso, and rests his head on his chest. He breathes in Takemichi’s body wash and the scent of lavender from their detergent, counting his heart beats.

He’s still here. He’s still alive.

Cherish him.

“Thank you for saving me, for saving all of us,” he whispers as he turns to look up in his beautiful blue eyes.

There’s a flash of sadness in Takemichi’s eyes, before it’s replaced quickly. He smiles softly, though it seems a bit forced around the edges.

“It’s the best damn thing I’ve ever done,” he whispers before planting a soft kiss on his forehead.

Baby you do it so well

You’ve been so understanding, you’ve been so good

And I’m putting you through more than one ever should

And I’m hating myself cause you don’t want to 

Admit that it hurts you

On the days after bad nights, Takemichi makes breakfast. He developed cooking skills at some point in this future, he tells Chifuyu.

But on those mornings, he can badly stomach anything so Takemichi will make him a smoothie and pack a light bento. He makes him fresh green tea that warms him up, and turns on the diffuser mixing eucalyptus and peppermint.

He kisses Chifuyu on the head, never on the lips. He gives him a tight hug and whispers “have a good day”, never I love you. He tries so hard to be a friend, like he knows he isn’t the one Chifuyu loves on those days.

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

Over him

I know that it breaks your heart when I cry again

‘stead of ghostin’ him

They both have ghosts that haunt them.

Takemichi’s exists on high rise buildings, in truck crashes, and a building in another country with no ceilings.

There are nights that Takemichi wakes up screaming Hina’s name or Mikey’s name or Akkun’s name. There are even days where he screams Chifuyu’s. There are days where the pots will bang together and Takemichi will collapse in fear. Takemichi avoids fires, loud noises, and lives his life as if he’s apologizing for living.

On the rare occasions he’s opened up to Chifuyu about those other futures, they’re usually about the first one, the one before he ever time-leaped. He opens up about how pathetic he was and how he was always apologizing.

And even though he’s a lot more sure than the man-boy in his stories, Chifuyu can’t help but think that old habits die hard.

We’ll get through this, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

But I love you, we’ll get past this

I’m a girl with...a whole lotta baggage

Takemichi takes care of Chifuyu so well, it almost seems like he’s apologizing.

For Baji, for not being Baji, for not being able to time-leap again to save him.

For being here when he feels he shouldn’t be.

He doesn’t ask, but he can suspect that there was a future where things went really bad for him and Takemichi feels responsible.

He doesn’t ask, because Takemichi won’t tell him the truth.

That this relationship is all just one big apology. That Takemichi’s love for him is just one big savior complex. That all of this is out of a sense of responsibility.

[robinrunsfiction]

CAN I GET A FRANK X READER FIC WHERE THE BAND GOES OUT FOR LUNCH AND Y/N STAYS AT THE BUS AND SLEEPS IN FRANKS BUNK AND THEY GET BACK AND FRANK SEES HER AND JUST GETS INTO BED WITH HER AHD HOLDS HER AND ITS ALL FLUFFY

Hold You Here

Pairing: Frank Iero x Female Reader Rating: General Requested By: Anons Word Count: 2,000 Author’s Note: I’m combining this with another similar request, which resulted in a longer story! I hope everyone enjoys! TW for a brief mention of Gerard’s addiction struggles in 2004

To be in a band meant that your bandmates were your most intimate friends. Hours, days, weeks spent cramped together in small confined spaces meant that everyone saw each other at their best, worst, and everything in between. Platonic physical affection wasn’t an unusual occurrence and neither was sharing beds so that the fewest number of hotel rooms could be reserved to save money, curling up under a blanket together while watching a movie on the bus, not to mention all the on-stage antics, it was all taken in stride. 

It also helped that everyone looked out for each other, but it seemed as if Frank looked out for you more than the others. When things became hectic, or when you were suffering from one of your migraines, he’d always be the one checking up on you to make sure you were okay. Spending hours up late at night talking with him was one of your favorite ways to pass time on the bus. You’d developed quite the soft spot for the chaotic guitarist.

The band had been touring what felt like non-stop for ages, but especially now that Three Cheers was out. It had been a very long, hot summer full of meeting fans, rocking out, and if you were being honest with yourself, way too much partying on everyone’s part. You were feeling pretty burnt out, but the success of the band made it worth it.

Now it was the last week of Warped Tour 2004 and you could tell summer was ending by how quickly the nights were cooling down. As usual when the tour was stopped over for a couple nights, both a bonfire, and most of the bands, were lit. You were standing as close to the fire as you could without melting the rubber on your chucks trying to keep warm.

“Hey,” Frank said, walking over to stand next to you.

“Hey, how’s it goin?” You asked

“Good. Cold?”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes. “I decided to dress cute, and now I’m freezing my ass off.”

“Who were you dressing up for?” Frank asked, unzipping his hoodie.

“No one really,” you replied, watching as he took off the sweatshirt. “What are you doing?”

“Keeping you warm,” he replied.

“You don’t have to,” you started as he put it over your shoulders.

“Too late,” he replied with a smirk that faded into a soft smile.

You looked up at him, in the dim light of the bonfire and you felt your heart skip, like a switch had been flipped. That soft spot you held in your heart for him suddenly felt overwhelmed, like the quiet feelings were now screaming in your ears.

“I bet it’s warmer on the bus,” you suggested, deciding to lean into the moment. You just hoped you were gauging the situation correctly.

His eyebrows went up in surprise, but he nodded. “I bet you’re right, wanna go back?”

“Yea.”

The walk across the parking lot was silent, as your hands brushed against each other’s, shoulders bumping occasionally. Climbing into the bus, you wandered to the back and confirmed no one else was around, and when you turned back to Frank he seemed a little nervous.

“Ya know you do look really cute. Like not just tonight, like all the time,” he said.

“Thanks,” you replied, tucking your hair behind your ear nervously. You were in your 20s, why were you suddenly feeling like a middle schooler talking to their crush?

“Wanna watch a movie or something?” He offered after an awkward silence hung between you.

“Sure. Nothing scary though, I’m tired of horror.”

“How can you be tired of horror?” Frank asked with feigned shock.

“Because that’s all we watch and we’ve watched almost every movie we have 100 times over.”

Frank started flipping through the stack of DVDs that the band had accumulated through countless tours. “What about ‘10 Things I Hate About You’?” he asked. 

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, plopping down on the couch and pulling off your shoes.

Frank put the movie in the DVD player and turned off the lights, sitting next to you. You glanced over, trying to gauge what he was thinking. He glanced back and you snapped your eyes back to the tv. As the movie progressed, Frank casually put his arm over the back of the couch and you settled into his side. 

“I wanna go play paintball, like real paintball, some time,” you said, watching Kat and Patrick’s date on the screen.

“We should go then,” Frank replied.

“Just us? Or,” you trailed off.

“Yea, I mean unless you wanna invite other people.”

You looked up at him, and he was looking back down at you. "No, just us," you said softly.

"Cool," he said with a goofy smile.

You had to bite your lip to keep from giggling, but in that moment, the energy between you shifted. Frank started to lean in and you closed your eyes as his lips met yours. At first the kiss was soft and tender, almost tentative. But then his arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer and your hand ran through his hair as he deepened the kiss. 

When you finally came up for air, you couldn't help the smile on your face when you saw how happy Frank looked. "That was fun," you laughed.

"I've been wanting to do that forever," he said, running a hand through his hair, smoothing it down.

"Well we should do it again sometime," you replied.

Just then, loud, drunken voices could be heard outside the door to the bus and you both jumped apart.

"They're in here makin' out or something," Ray shouted over his shoulder with a giggle. You knew there was no way they could have seen you two just minutes before, but the joke still rattled you.

"No they weren't," Mikey said disbelievingly, as he and Gerard followed.

You glanced at Frank who was shaking his head at your bandmates before he changed the subject to something totally random. Things had literally just started with him, and it felt fragile. The last thing you wanted was to have it all fall apart like nothing happened, and be left wondering forever what could have been.

The next day, nothing about the prior night was discussed between you and Frank, but it had been a busy day of press, playing, and meeting fans. When you were climbing back into your bunk, completely exhausted, you spotted a folded up piece of paper on your pillow. You closed the curtain behind you and turned on the small light above your bed. When you unfolded the note, you immediately recognized Frank's scrawling handwriting. 

(YN), all I've been able to think about today is how your lips felt on mine and wondering when I can feel it again. I can't remember anything that was said to me because I was thinking about how I'd rather just be talking to you. I hope sometime before the end of this tour we can hang out alone together again.

XO, frnk

You bit your lip to keep from squealing with delight.

~

The last few days of Warped Tour were just as much of a blur, and when that tour was over, you were quickly shipped off to another one. Gerard was struggling and the whole band was impacted. Everyone dealt with it in their own way, and luckily you had Frank to brush away the worried tears when your brain wouldn't quiet enough to let you sleep at night. 

Soon after, Gerard got the help he needed and when he rejoined the band, you were immediately sent back out on the road. Everything felt a little brighter that fall.

You and Frank were as good as ever, but still keeping your relationship quiet. His hand would find yours when no one else was around. You'd each sneak into each other's bunks and spend the nights cuddled together. Then there was the series of excuses as to why you two should share hotel rooms, which included Mikey texting too much, Ray talking too much, and Gerard keeping the light on all night drawing, among others.

So when you were blindsided with a migraine one morning, you were not at all pleased. The pain throbbed through your head as nausea rolled through your stomach. You groaned as you slid out of your bunk and stumbled to the front of the bus, which was obnoxiously bright, to the cabinet holding the medicine. 

"There's sleeping beauty," you heard Ray laugh, but you just grunted in response. You grabbed the bottle of Excedrin and silently prayed they'd do their job quickly as you took a dose.

"You ok?" Frank asked as you slumped down on the couch.

"No, migraine."

Your bandmates groaned, knowing how much of a pain, literally and figuratively, they were for you.

"So you don't wanna go grab lunch?" Mikey asked.

"Please don't make me think about food or I might get sick."

"Do you want me to stay back with you?" Frank offered. It didn't even register how much concern he was showing toward you.

"No, I just wanna sleep and hope it goes away before we have to play tonight."

"Ok, we'll leave you alone. Come on guys," Gerard said, shooing the guys out. You glanced up and saw Frank giving you a sympathetic look before leaving the bus.

You dragged yourself back to the bunks, closing the door to the main room behind you and looked at your bunk. There was no way in hell you were climbing back up into it. Instead climbed into Frank's. 

You pulled his blanket over you as you curled up in a ball facing the wall. His pillow smelled faintly of his shampoo, but not enough to make you feel sick, or maybe the medication was finally kicking in.

It felt like no sooner you'd fallen asleep that you heard voices in the front of the bus. You wondered how long you’d been out, but didn’t care enough to check the time. Before you could drift off again you heard the door opening and closing softly. Shuffling steps stopped behind you and then you felt someone climb in the bunk behind you.

"Hey," Frank said softly, his arm wrapping around your side.

"Hi," you answered, a smile forming on your face for the first time all day, not that he could see it.

"Feeling better?"

"A bit. Not 100% yet, but better than earlier."

"Mind if I nap with you?"

"Please do," you replied.

Frank drew the curtain shut and settled in behind you. He brushed aside your hair and placed a soft kiss on the side of your neck before giving you another quick squeeze.

You drifted back to sleep for a while, and when you woke up again, your headache was mostly gone you were relieved that you'd be able to play that night without feeling awful. As you stretched your legs out, Frank shifted, pulling you tighter against him.

"Better yet?" He murmured sleepily.

"Yea," you said, not moving more, afraid of disturbing the comfortable cocoon you two were in.

“So at lunch the guys were talking,” Frank started.

“‘Bout what?” You asked, rolling over.

“Us.”

“Oh?” Your heart rate going up.

“We went to this café for lunch and I got you a cupcake, it’s in the fridge by the way. And they were just wondering if there’s something going on between us.”

“What’d you say?”

“I just brushed it off, they were just giving me shit.”

“Oh,” you said, suddenly feeling a little dejected.

“Do you still wanna keep us a secret?” He asked.

“I dunno," you mumbled. "Do you?”

Frank intertwined his fingers with yours. "It's been kinda fun this way. But I also kinda wanna tell everyone I know that I'm the luckiest dude in the world BECAUSE I'm with you."

“Let's decide later,” you replied. “For right this moment, let’s just enjoy this.”

"Good idea," he replied with a soft smile before leaning in and kissing you lovingly.

[remmushound]

Beyond the Bay chapter 4: Dinosaurs seen in sewers!

Commander Mozar hated everything about this planet. From the thick green foliage disrupting the simple gray of the city’s landscape to the sweet taste of the air, everything about this planet reeked of inhospitality. He thought such a cold place should be nothing more than a snowy wasteland, like some of the other planets his kind had tried to lay claim to that experienced similar temperature. This planet wasn’t one of those; it was crawling with Federation scum, and under the very feet of these knockoffs were vermin at considerable numbers. The entire settlement seemed to be infested and he wouldn’t be surprised if the entire world had similar plagues. Filthy, lower life-forms spreading disease and devouring food that could be used to feed the higher life forms that dominated the savage landscape; perhaps it would make sense for some of them to be spared for the purpose of farming if these aliens were omnivorous, but there were far too many here, and far too small to be practical for hunting! He failed to see how these hominids, as his scanners reported them, had yet to destroy such creatures. Then again, they weren’t a very advanced race compared to his .

The commander snorted and shook his head, giving a bellow to call his soldiers to his side. The Prime Leader had made it clear that they should at least try to stay out of sight; they didn't want another potential enemy on their hands. Mozar didn't understand the command; these hominids were obviously no threat to them. They had hardly even gotten out of their backyard as far as space travel went, and they had no claws or fangs. They were incredibly small, and slow, and clumsy. Still, the Prime Leader knew best and Commander Mozar made every attempt to be as silent as possible during their harvest of the rare and precious element that this planet harbored.

While Zark and Zeno took up their posts on either side of the long stone pathway, pinned between two large structures, Zog and Traximus took their positions over the manhole. From his shoulders, Zog pulled out a metal carver, holding onto one of the handles while Traximus gripped the other. The power of both bull triceratons was enough to crack the stone beneath them, forcing the blades into the earth, and together they started to turn the wheel at a slow pace to slice through rock and metal. A solid clank told them of their success, and they lifted both machine and stone from the earth to reveal a new, much more suitable entrance for them. They tossed the stone aside and Zog returned the carver to its place on his back.

Traximus opened his mouth, drawing in a deep breath of the terra’s sweet air and the putrid odor coming from the hidden tunnel they had just revealed.

“It stinks of rot and waste in there.” He reported to his commander with a low rumble.

“Then breath through your nose, Traximus.” Was Commander Mozar’s response. Another deep chuff called Zark and Zeno to rejoin the herd. After Commander Mozar leaped down into the tunnel, sinking knee-deep into the waste below, the rest of his unit were quick to follow.

Traximus groaned and readjusted the mask over his nose, taking a deep, slow breath of the familiar, homely burn of his world’s atmosphere. His chest refused to work as well with the pressured gravity of the terra planet, his breath much shallower than what his body would prefer. He couldn’t wait to return to the mothership, where he could breathe and move again without the weight of his body pushing down so hard.

Zeno offered his locator panel to their commander, who snatched the piece of tech from the technician's hand and scrutinized it with narrowed eyes. He flipped the panel from left to right, tilting his head before holding the panel by its corner, dangling it precariously.

“What is this? This makes no sense!”

“Uh, commander?” Zeno said lowly, then reached forward to flip the tech so it was facing the right way. “Look at it like this.”

“I knew that!” The commander snarled, and then it faded into a rumble as he looked over the map. “I was just testing you.”

A whip of his tail was all it took to call his crew into position to follow after him, deeper into the dark tunnel.

~~~

It was like a crash of lightning in his mind slashed through the fog and make Mikey sit upright. He immediately had regrets as the sudden movements brought him to almost keel over, choking smog in his throat stopping any breath that tried to force its way through. Something was wrong. Something was wrong and something was coming and he had to run or that something would find him and take him away. But how could he run when his body was made of lead? When his legs had no feeling other than an intense burning that hardly mattered compared to the fire that had surely swallowed his right arm. He didn't care. Even if he had to crawl, he would find some escape from the danger heading his way.

Mikey forced his body to stand— and then immediately fell as his legs gave out on him. The impact seemed to slam his senses back into his body, first in a numb sting and then in throbs that seared through shell and flesh in turn. The bang had also served to make Donnie jolt up, hand snagging his bo and holding it out in a defensive position during the seconds it took him to stand at attention. He looked left first, then right, then down. Only when he saw Mikey on the ground did he drop his defensive stance, muttering a loud swear as he fell to his knees to help lift Mikey into a sitting position. At first, Mikey resisted the touch that he immediately assumed to be from the bad he was trying to escape. When he recognized the hands, the voice, the mutant helping him, he didn't fight any more.

“Dee…” Mikey whined.

“I got you Mike. Here, up we get.” Donnie wrapped his arms around Mikey’s middle to lift the turtle back up and onto his bed. He made sure to push Mikey as far back as the cot allowed so the box turtle was supported against the wall. “What happened?”

“I fell.” Mikey grumbled; he was grateful for the help but now there was a hammering on the inside of his skull that refused to leave him alone.

“Yeah, kinda guessed that much.” Donnie immediately started to tend to the slightly-bleeding gash on Mikey’s forehead, dabbing it with a rag as he worked to clean it.

“We have to go, Dee.” Mikey said, trying to swipe Donnie’s hand away. Donnie simply ignored his brother’s attempts to remove him.

“Go?” Donnie indulged steadily, eyes focused on his work, “Go where, Mikey?”

“Uh… dunno.” Mikey said. The words were heavy on his tongue and came out weird, and he didn't like it. He frowned and reached his hand up, the left one that wasn’t so stiff, to touch his mouth and lips. They felt normal. Why was it so hard to talk then?

“Well how can we go if we don’t know where we’re going?” Donnie asked, offering a sly smile to the younger turtle while making a mental note of the speech deficit.

Mikey gulped, but didn't respond. It didn't take long for Donnie to finish cleaning and patching Mikey’s head wound before trying to guide Mikey to lay back down. Once more, Mikey immediately resisted and started to push and struggle against the taller mutant while Donnie calmly and patiently continued to position Mikey down on his carapace.

“No no no no no…”

“Easy, Mike.” Donnie made quick, shushing sounds, “You’re okay…”

“No no no no, we haft to go Dee, we haft to…”

Eventually, Donnie’s persistence won and he was able to lay Mikey down in the cot, pulling the blankets over him and fluffing out the pillow like he knew his baby brother loved. It concerned him when Mikey only whimpered, but he said nothing of it. He planted a kiss on Mikey’s forehead and then went to return to his desk, resigned to the fact he wouldn’t be getting much more sleep.

His resignation proved true on multiple levels. The minute he sat down, his fingers hovering over the keyboard ready to input the code, he was nearly knocked out of his seat by a blaring alarm.

“Woah woah woah— what?” Donnie was back to his feet quickly, the sudden, jarring beeping reverberating in his head in a way he just knew would cause a headache later in the day. He worked quickly, the habit of thinking out loud hitting him hard as he rushed to complete his task. “Breach in the fan room… camera’s camera’s camera’s… woah.”

The curtains were practically ripped down as Raph and Leo came busting in, hands on their weapons and back to back with each other so they had eyes on both sides.

“Donnie, what happened?” Leo demanded.

“B… breach in the fan room.” Donnie repeated, motioning to the screen. Leo’s voice sounded like it was on the other side of a great canyon, the distant words echoing and slowly getting closer and louder. Donnie’s mouth was like sand, words like daggers slicing his tongue. “Enemies approaching.”

Leo shouldered his way past, leaning closer to the cameras presented on the screen as he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. At first, they could have very easily been mistaken for rhinos; these ones would have been far bigger than Rocksteady, and there were far more of them. A closer look on a different display screen showed a front view, revealing three horns instead of two.

“Is that a fucking dinosaur?” Raph’s words were more surprise than anything else, eyes wide and growing wider by the second.

They were dinosaurs! At least, Leo was almost sure they were. It was hard to tell just how big they might have been, but they definitely weren’t small. They each had three horns, two on their heads just in front of their frills and one on their nose; beneath their nose horn were masks that covered their nostrils, feeding back into a massive amount of tech on their backs. All but one of them were a vibrant orange with disrupting patterns of red and yellow markings; the outlier was a dark red and in the lead, so Leo immediately singled him out as a potential leader.

The earth beneath their feet started to tremble like a train was going by, enough to disrupt some of the artifacts on Donnie’s shelf and make a few of them fall; Donnie made a dive to catch every last one of them before they could hit the ground. The dinosaurs in the cameras reached the fan blades, the last defense separating them from the lair, and they shredded right through without stopping. Leo wanted to swear, but he held his tongue, his grip on both katana tightening as his body tensed for a battle.

Raph growled and shook his head, moving against Mikey’s cot and standing like an unmovable wall in front of it, watching the fan room tunnel as if daring the attackers to come anywhere near his brothers. The attackers, it seemed, accepted his dare as the five of them flooded out of the tunnels and into the open lair.

@brightlotusmoon @selfindulgenz @scentedcandlecryptid @digitl-art-monstr @ilo-artistry

[moxfirefly]

As far as the prompts go: I can't decide between 64 and 78, being said to Bayverse Mikey, who has been having PTSD nightmares after a nearly fatal injury. The other person could be one of his brothers if not the reader who is his best friend and they are both in love without realizing. Since Mike is already my sweet ADHD autistic baby boy, I Headcanon him as actually introverted with an extrovert persona that he doesn't know how to unmask.

See, this is why my fanfic is so hard to write.

I see I see, ok *cracks knuckles* I hope I do this justice, I want this extra special for you since I’ve highly enjoyed your Mikey headcanons. I hope you enjoy this and it’s to your liking.

TW: mentions of PTSD, nightmares, some sensitive material, blood, injuries, etc

Rated Angst

The cot felt cozy on this cold winters night. It had been your bed for the past month and a half. The inside of your apartment was a memory by now, you wish you could say the makeshift vacation was brought on by your own leisure, unfortunately that wasn’t the case.

The sounds of water and the city above have turned into a soundtrack, when exhaustion won over or it wasn’t your turn to stay up...

Stay up with Michelangelo.

You sat up and looked around the living area, the usual chatter of the guys wasn’t present. Patrol had been short tonight per Leo’s orders, Donnie had been up until about an hour ago monitoring via the hub. Exhaustion had claimed them all including Splinter, but for all of your attempts to get a decent nights sleep, it didn’t feel fair.

Closing your eyes you could picture that night and the horrifying hours that culminated in your hands covered in blood. Mikey had been hurt, not an injury he could walk off in a few hours, but an all too real life threatening injury that had stained you physically as well as emotionally. You never expected to see much crimson in such a short amount of blood, to speak to Mikey in order to keep him conscious while Donnie did everything his power to keep his little brother alive.

Because it was looking like Mikey might not make it through the night.

That thought alone made your eyes water again, even a month into his recovery your heart shattered wondering what might be if he hadn’t made it. You saw Raph exit their room, half his gear on and as quietly as his skill had allowed him he snuck out. It had been like that for a while now, whenever it got too much or the guilt overtook him Raphael would simply sneak and go topside. Whatever he did was enough to keep him at bay for now, surprisingly so even Leo had backed off.

You almost asked him if you could come with, have a breather from it all but your lips remained pressed even as he was out of your line of view.

What a mess.

Ready to force yourself to sleep your head barely hit the pillow when you heard a brief shout. You stumbled out of the cot and kept still, the sound was there again and the direction it came from was clearly from where Mikey was. You patted through the living room, pushed the curtain open and saw him. Eyes shut tight and trembling, whimpering for something or someone. You sat at his bed and rubbed his face trying to gently rouse him without making the situation worse. Mikey had been sleeping poorly, he’d been racked with anxiety attacks and nightmares.

Gently you rubbed his face, the new scar from his incident. It was similar to Leo’s eye scar but much angrier, the sutures had been taken out not too long ago. The cast on his arm was still on, the scattered drawings you and him had applied once he was more lucid had been one of the most calmest nights.

Such a mess.

“Mikey, Mikey it’s ok, shh” You soothed softly as his eyes shot open and he looked about the room.

“Y/N? What-“ He rubbed at his eye, the none scarred one.

“I could hear you screaming. Are you okay?” You gently placed him back on the bed on his side, hand reaching for his and holding it tightly. Mikey blinked several times, that shine to his baby blues so dull. There was ache and fear behind them now, a raging storm that he seemed to drown in night after night. You caressed his cheek with your free hand, fingers making out a healed scar.

“Bad dream, felt too real” His voice was a little hoarse, the tightness in which he held your hand a testament to how this dream had left him. “Why doesn’t it stop? I-I just wanna sleep...just wanna be okay” His voice felt so small, the way his eyes teared up only gutted you further. You opted to lay down with him, much like you had for this past month. The two of you on yours sides, hand clasping his you kissed his knuckles.

“Tell me about you dream, it helps if you do so” Your words were hushed, Mikey’s eyes bounced around your face, he wanted to speak but so much of his own brain prevented him from doing so. He kept so much of his thoughts to himself, only ever letting his walls down when he was comfortable enough but this whole incident had set something back between the two of you.

There was something he wanted to say to you and prior to this incident if looked like it might happen sure enough. Now though, even as you held your own thoughts back for more pressing matters at hand. Mikey chewed on the inside of his cheek, a habit he had when overwhelmed with too much around him and in his mind.

“You can tell me tomorrow, doesn’t have to be now” You reassured as to not add more pressure. You felt his fingers losen from your grip and move to your chin. An innocent but intimate caress, your cheeks flushed ever so slightly. “When it happened... I don’t remember much, don’t remember the drive back but I started to come through when I heard your voice” His eyes fluttered close when you tentatively caressed his bottom lip.

Mikey swallowed, eyes back to yours. “You told me to stay awake, I wanted to do that even if I felt I couldn’t” You pressed a palm to the hard plates of his chest, it seemed to steady him, ground him. “I wanted you awake Mikey, wanted to see your eyes you know” Here you were doing just that and your heart twisted up with so much emotion.

You were so in love it left you weightless at times.

But now wasn’t the moment, another night maybe? For now Mikey needed to recover, even if it wouldn’t mean fully so. Physically he’d be there soon, but mentally he was a long ways.

“Could you stay with me here?” He sounded almost like a little boy, eyes shiny with tears and voice so small. You nodded, boldly pressing your forehead to his. “You can sleep now. I’ll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.” You smiled timidly, another knot in your heart twisting when he smiled softly at your words.

You watched him drift off, so close to him you could count ever beat of his heart as it settled.

Feeling tears escape you tried blinking them away as exhaustion took over.

‘I love you’ you mouthed before you fell a sleep.

[undercoverwizardfanfiction]

Rottmnt Zero Horizon Dawn Au: The Brave

Takes place after Boiling Rain

Summary: When Mikey finds himself haunted by one of his worst memories, only a brother can give him the comfort he needs

Gift for: @dovelydraws

Characters: Mikey, Leo, Rost

Pairings:

It begins as it always does

With him falling

Above, Mikey sees an explosion burst over the edge of a cliff followed by a shriek of pain. . “ROST!” he cries, reaching out above him even though he’s had this dream enough times to know it's not enough. He’s can’t stop the grief he feels from overwhelming him, or prevent the tears from escaping from the corners of his eyes -

The ground meets him, though painless, the combination of the shallow, but ice-cold water and impact is enough to knock the air out of him. The water reaches the corners of his eyes as though trying catch the emotions still trickling free.

As usual, he feels an invisible force draw his vision away from the burning cliff isle to the spot by his side. Mikey squeezes his eyes shut in an attempt to spare himself, but as it has been for a while now, the pain is unavoidable as his eyes are forced to stare into blank red striped ones.

(#)(#)(#)(#)

Leo jolts awake as a gasp fills the small farmhouse, for a second all he can do is stare at the ceiling. His aching body demanding action until the sound of soft sobs fill the air. Nerves put to ease, Leo raises his head up the best he can. Donnie and Raph still haven’t returned from gathering food so it’s not hard to to pinpoint the source fo the crying coming from Mikey, who was curled up on his bedroll weeping with his face pressed into his pillow. Probably trying to muffle his pain the best he could to keep from waking Leo.

“Mikey?” He calls softly as to not scare the youngest brother, “Are you ok?”

The box turtle jumps at his voice before tear filled eyes look to him with no small amount of guilt, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No, I can’t sleep,” Leo lies easily. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m great!!” Even though his smile is bright and cheerful it doesn’t match he pain burning in his eyes. Leo gives him an unimpressed look that he’s sure would have been more affective if he had his eyeliner on (man he misses his eyeliner; bedrest was the Sun’s enemy). ”Mikey,” he says with a soft enough sigh that Mikey’s fake smile slides off his face. “Come here.”

The turtle hesitates long enough that Leo’s not sure that Mikey heard him. But finally, the box turtle’s hunched shoulders shudder as he stands up, his head tucked to his chest as he shuffles closer shamefully. Leo holds his hand out to him, and even though Mikey hesitates for the slightest of moments, Mikey puts a hand in his. Leo’s hand closes over his and gives it the slightest of tugs. Mikey trembles again before sitting on the edge of Leo’s bed. With a gentle hand on the back fo Mikey's’ head, he holds Mikey close to him. The moment Mikey’s head meets his chest, the turtle bursts into tears again. His smaller hands clinging to Leo’s shirt like he was the last pillar of sanity in his life. The red slider turtle rests his chin on Mikey’s scalp, humming soft comfort and rubbing his shoulders in an attempt to ease the tension out of him. “You’re so strong Mikey,” he says, using his cheek to nuzzle Mikey’s scalp. “Please never forget that. “

Mikey shakes his head furiously with a small sob. “I’m not I’m not like you, or Raph or Donnie! I’m weak, I couldn’t save Rost, I-I-” Mikey lets out another sob. “I almost lost you.”

“Loss doesn’t make you stronger, it’s what you do with it. And if I’m being honest, I only feel as strong as I do because I have you all in my life.” He tightens his hug on Mikey. “You make me stronger.”

He feels Mikey cling to him tighter, the Nora Brave turns his face away from Leo’s chest but doesn’t pull away (he probably needed to breath). Even though he’s stopped crying, there’s an exhaustion to his face that makes Leo’s heart ache. With one arm still hugging Mikey, the other reaches out and pulls the blanket off the foot of the bed and over the turtle in his arms, “Go back to sleep Little Brother. It’s going to be ok.”

“What-i” Mikey looks up at him with returning tears. “How do you know that?”

“Because,” Leo says with a smile, “I’m not leaving, so please.” He puts his cheek back on Mikey’s scalp with a gentle rub to his shell. “Go to sleep.”

After a few moments, despite Mikey’s protests, the Nora Brave tucks his legs up onto the bed and is asleep soon after in Leo’s arms. Leo makes sure the blanket is covering him entirely before glancing around the room. It’s hard to think that it was just a few short weeks ago that he had almost died protecting Mikey from a Fire Bellowback. Sometimes the pain still got to him, and made it hard to breath. But in moments like this, as he watched Mikey’s peaceful face descend deeper into sleep, unhindered by the horrors of fantasy or reality, he knows he would do it again. And with that, he allows himself a soft sigh before allowing himself to fall asleep as well.

[loxcommon]

⚠️!Trigger Warning! Swearing, Mentions of Abuse⚠️

Five Days until the Party, Day 1, Part 2

Elizabeth and Timothy sat on a tiny bench in front of Michael's school, waiting for the bell to ring. Elizabeth was in a puffy blue jacket and a long pink skirt with equally blue heels, ones that William spent at least a hundred dollars on. Timothy was wearing an oversized black hoodie that he got from Michael a few years back. He had on jeans and brown boots that were covered in mud. The final bell of the day rang, and Timothy pushed his hands over his ears. Elizabeth pulled the younger boy closer to her as the teenagers ran out of the school. A few minutes passed by, and Elizabeth and Timothy grew warier each time a short boy that looked like Michael passed. Finally, Michael and three other boys walked out of the doors. They all towered over him. "Hey, Timmy! I see Mike!" Elizabeth said as she prodded the barely conscious boy. Timothy yawned and looked on absent-mindedly. Michael scanned the crowd until he found them. He nodded over to the tallest boy and said something around the lines of, "See ya' tomorrow, guys!" And ran over to the younger kids.

"Hey, Mikey!" Elizabeth yelled, drawing the attention of some of the kids. "Hey, guys! How are you both?" Michael asked while picking the half-asleep younger boy up. "We're good, Tim fell asleep in class, so you have to go to the principal's office." Elizabeth responded, mispronouncing the word' principal.' Michael chuckled and muttered a "Cool. What time?" Michael was used to going to his sibling's school for one reason or another. He went to a 'meet the teacher' event once, and most people thought he was their father. He didn't mind, though; he didn't want others to know about their 'situation.' "At 6:30, do you think we can get ice cream after that?" Elizabeth said as they got up and grabbed Michael's hand. Michael smiled and said a quick, "Okay." And clasped her hand as they walked through the school gate.

------

Michael sat the sleeping boy down on the neat, little bench sitting crooked on the equally small porch while he unlocked the door. Elizabeth wandered up onto the bench and settled down next to her brother, waiting for Michael to open the door. She pulled one of the yellow throw pillows off the bench and stared at it, remembering when it used to be a bright white. Michael gave a small glance towards the empty driveway. "Fuck." Michael mumbled under his breath. "What's wrong, Mikey?" Elizabeth asked, now leaning on Timothy's shoulder. Michael knew if he told the truth, she would start freaking out, so he just decided to lie. "Hey, nothing's wrong." "Then, why did you swear? You swear when things are wrong, right?" Elizabeth looked confused, but Michael changed the subject quickly. "Hey, remember when we played robbers when we were younger? With the broken window?" When Michael and Elizabeth were younger, Elizabeth found a broken window that leads to the basement. Where then you could get through a small trapdoor that went to the kitchen. Since it was the only way to actually get to the basement. Michael and Elizabeth were the only ones who knew about it; they had told their mother before she- No. Neither Michael nor Elizabeth like thinking about that. About her.

"Yeah, I remember! Why?" She asked, sounding happy that Michael remembered to. Elizabeth moved her head off of her brother's shoulder. She was excited to play with Michael again, even if it was just for the short time her father was at wherever he went when Henry was out of town. "I thought we could play it again while Tim's asleep, does that sound nice?" Elizabeth nodded eagerly; she got up and laid Timothy's head on the throw pillow. They didn't live in the best neighborhood, so Michael silently thanked God that the window was behind the house. The truth was William had changed the lock, for whatever reason, Michael knew he changed it. The lock was completely different, and Michael didn't have the key for it. William wanted him to get in trouble; he knew that they couldn't get in without picking the lock. Good thing William doesn't know about the window. Michael thought to himself.

Michael and Elizabeth went to the back of the house and found the opening. "This window is much smaller than I remember." Michael joked, which earned a laugh out of Elizabeth. "Do you want me to go? I'll do it!" She asked while smiling. "Yeah, that sounds like a good plan." Michael suddenly pulled his hood on and said in a scratchy voice, "Open the door for me so we can both get the booty!" Elizabeth laughed again while Michael opened the window. He pulled the hood off, so others don't think he was actually breaking in. And Elizabeth slipped in. Michael quickly walked to the door and sat down on the bench, making sure to lift Timothy's head off the pillow. He pulled his hood up and laid Timothy on his chest for a short nap.

------

Elizabeth pushed her body through the tiny gap, making sure to not rip any of her clothes or cut herself on the dangerous, small bits of glass that were still holding up after years of misuse. She was almost entirely in the house before a sharp, stinging pain tore a little cut in her right leg; she gasped and slowly brought her leg up and then broke the glass that cut her so it wouldn't hurt her anymore. Once Elizabeth was completely inside the basement, she dropped down at least seven feet to the floor, which only made her leg hurt even more. She pulled her skirt up to inspect the wound; it was around an inch long, and on her calf, it could be easily covered by a band-aid; she wouldn't want to worried Michael or her father. She got up and decided to push one of the tall shelves full of non-perishable food and other things for emergencies; so when the next person went down there, they wouldn't get hurt. It was way heavier than she thought it would be, so she had to use all her strength, which wasn't very much for a ten-year-old. Still, after around five minutes, she finally was able to move it. When she got done with that, she started walking through the small maze that was the basement; she couldn't even see the walls; it was just endless barriers of emergency stuff. Elizabeth walked for some more time, thinking about how much the cellar had changed since she was last down there; then she turned the final corner she found a box of medical supplies right next to the ladder that leads to the kitchen. Hell yes! Elizabeth thought before mentally attacking herself for swearing. She grabbed the box and opened it, finding the band-aids almost immediately; she put the box back where she found it when she was done. Elizabeth climbed up the ladder and pushed open the trap door with all her might until she heard the signature click of the door.

Elizabeth climbed up and onto the kitchen's grey tile floor; she looked up at the brown cabinets that were to high for anyone under six feet to reach. She always tried to get up there using the equally brown counters that complemented the floor, while the way to big flower print carpet under that was under an ugly lime green table did the exact opposite. Their mother was the one who chose the carpet, though an aunt on William's side that the children had never met picked out the table. Elizabeth never liked the table; she never liked the color green, she would even go out of her way to say she hates it. Elizabeth pushed herself up and moved towards the brown door; she always thought it looked small compared to the tall, dusty pink walls. She walked through the door and into the big, navy blue living room; two sunshine yellow couches contrasted nicely against the walls, bookcases lined the sides of the room, with books that haven't been touched for at least five years, covered in a thin line of dust. A walkway to the far right of the kitchen leads to the bedrooms that Elizabeth spent most of her time in; if it wasn't William's room, it was Timothy's, if not that, Michael's. She never liked her own room -even if it was one of the biggest bedrooms, second only to the master- it unsettled her; it wasn't just that her window was pointing towards a small forest that was dividing her house from their non-existent backyard, or the closet that she could've sworn had something living in it. No, it was the vent that connected to the big air duct, the one that anyone could get into; Elizabeth knew that someone went in there, she saw it, she saw her. Elizabeth was sure it was her mother, she had tried to tell her father, but he just brushed it off as a child's wild imagination, like Timothy's nightmares or Michael's 'emetophobia', whatever that meant.

Elizabeth went up to the front door and opened it to find Timothy and Michael resting against each other, Michael had his hand over Timothy's shoulder, and Timothy's head was on Michael's chest; they seemed comfortable. Elizabeth was happy that her brothers were getting along together and would hate to break it up, but Michael would get mad if she didn't wake them up to go inside since it was so cold. She nudged Michael's shoulder; he muttered some swears and looked up at Elizabeth. "Oh, hey, Eli. What happened? Is the door unlocked?" Michael said as he lifted his arm off of Timothy. "Yeah! And I found medical supplies in the basement! We can raid the house!" Elizabeth cheered; Michael smiled back at the girl, "Hell yeah! We get to steal everything now! William will regret this!" Elizabeth let out a chuckle.

"Regret what?" William asked, which stopped Elizabeth and Michael dead in their tracks. "Nothing, William." Michael started to talk back until William walked up to him; he reeked of cigarettes, and his breath smelled of booze. He's drunk. Again. Michael thought, now knowing to keep his siblings close to him today. William glanced over to the open door and scoffed, "And how'd ya' do that? Did ya' break-in." he said, more as a statement than a question; looking back to Michael -who was now holding the keys in a 'ready to stab' position-, William chuckled and whispered a sharp "Wouldn't want anything bad to happen to the kids, would ya?" Michael pulled Elizabeth behind him as William got closer and closer; until he was only a few inches away from Michael's face, "Remember the plan, or I'll bust ya' worst than last time. Got it?"

Michael gulped, but William just laughed and walked into the house. Michael watched him leave, and once he was sure that William was in his room, he woke Timothy up.

Timothy groaned and groggily asked, "Where are we?" Michael smiled and picked him up, "We're home, c'mon; let's get you to bed." Michael said, checking the time on his watch. It read 5:19. "What about the principal? Don't we need to go?" Timothy asked while yawning. "Nah, we have around an hour until we need to leave; you can sleep; I'll wake you up on time, don't worry." Michael responded as he and Elizabeth walked inside. Timothy gave a small nod while rubbing his eyes, "Okay." Michael made a beeline to the smaller boy's bedroom, not even daring to look over to William's room. Elizabeth sat down on the yellow couch while Michael put Timothy to sleep. She decided to check on her leg. Elizabeth gasped; the cut was bleeding hard, the blood was even slipping through the band-aid, which was now soaked. Elizabeth knew that she would have to tell Michael about it; he was the best person to tell -Timothy would probably just cry and tell William, and William would yell at her until she told him where she got the cut.

------

Michael pushed his dark brown hair out of his face; he had finally got Timothy to sleep, which wasn't as much of a task as it was in the past; Michael had noticed Timothy had been getting less and less sleep in the last few weeks; he was worried. He had just walked out of the younger boy's when he checked the time; 5:32 it read. Shit, I left Eli alone! What if William found her!? Michael thought before racing to the living room, there he saw Elizabeth, bleeding profusely from her leg; he ran over to her, Michael got down on his knees. "Eli! Are you okay?! Did William do this!? What happened!? Where is he?" Michael bombarded her with questions while Elizabeth tried to calm him down. "No, Mike. I'm okay, it's just a cut; I got it on the window, I'm fine." She said quickly, making sure that he hears each protest. "I just need a bandage; daddy did nothing. He would never hurt us!" Michael looked up at her and gave a relieved sigh, glad that William had never done anything to her. "Okay, that's good, but tell me about any injuries you get next time. I'm worried about you. Why didn't you tell me?" Michael responded, peeling the band-aid off her leg. "Okay, I will; I was just scared that you would get mad at me." Elizabeth said in a small voice; Michael just looked up at her with a sad face, "I'll never be mad at you, just tell me if you get hurt next time; now let's go get you a bandage, okay? There should be some in the kitchen." Elizabeth only nodded in response.

[calpalirwin]

BUB

Summary: What’s better than your best girl and best mate getting along? Well, nothing really. If you knew the rumors were false, that is. 

A/N: You’ve heard of enemies to lovers. You’ve heard of fake-dating to real dating. Might I introduce a new trope called hostility turned platonic friendship turned stand-in boyfriend? Aka my brain child with @here-for-the-uproars​

Content: Swearing, general tom-foolery.

DISCLAIMER: NOT A poly!Cashton or poly!5sos fic!!!!

Need to catch up? Part 1 Part 2

And away, and away we go!

Part 3

“Oh, I’m never gonna be able to get up there,” Sam said, eyeing the bunk beds in the tour bus. She graduated with her doctorate and as a graduation present, her boss was letting her take the summer off to go on tour with Ashton. “You’re only young once, Sam,” the older lady said with a knowing wink. “Go enjoy yourself. Your job will still be here when you get back.”

“There’s a ladder right there, baby,” Ashton told her, pointing.

“I’m gonna bang my head so much…”

“Yeah you are,” Ashton winked, grabbing her ass.

“Fletch,” she laughed, turning in his arms to face him. “I’m serious. Can you switch with Cal?”

“If I do that, then I can’t do this,” he pouted, spinning her back around and lifting her into the bunk with fluid ease.

“Hey. Hey!” Sam squealed as she landed on the soft mattress pad. “Oh, this is cozier and bigger than I pictured,” she commented, laying down in the bunk.

Ashton giggled as he rested his arms against his bunk. “Yeah, we had to do some remodeling of sorts when Luke decided to become six and a half feet tall!” He said the last part a bit louder so Luke could hear.

“I’m 6’2” at best!” came the retort from the living room area of the bus.

Ashton and Sam laughed. “Anyway, now they’re long enough for GIRAFFES and wide enough for when the girls come along.”

“And still too tall for me,” Sam finished.

“Again, there’s a ladder right there.”

Sam wrinkled up her nose. “Nah, I like it better when you lift me.”

“Me too,” Ashton agreed with a flirty wink.

“You need to learn to keep your hands to yourself,” Sam giggled, playfully swatting at his hands.

“Can’t,” Ashton said simply. “One, I always gotta be doing something with my hands. Two, you’re way too hot, baby.”

“You’re right about the first part,” she agreed with another giggle. The drummer had the worst case of restless hands she’d ever encountered. A restlessness she was more than happy to take full advantage of. “As for the sec-”

“Also true,” he cut her off, leaning into the bunk to kiss her.

~~~

“Ugh, my head,” Sam whined, hands pressing to her temple. At two weeks of tour life, the loudness mixed with the bright lights were beginning to make her head spin. Even when it was dark, it wasn’t dark enough.

“You okay, baby?” Ashton asked, concern written across his face as he tugged her closer to him.

“Whoa, don’t do that,” she said, pushing at him, feeling the pain slosh around in her skull.

Ashton frowned. “Do you wanna go lie down in the bunk?”

“You won’t be mad?” Sam asked, her eyes squinting. Some Motrin and a quiet tour bus sounded like fuckin’ heaven. 

He shook his head. “No. If you don’t feel good, you don’t feel good.”

“I can lay down in here, Fletch,” Sam protested, feeling bad anyway. She had come to watch his shows, not get sidelined by a damn migraine.

“Nope, bus, c’mon,” he said standing up and gently tugging her to her feet.

“Okay, okay,” she laughed weakly. “But, I can go to the bus myself. You’ll be late if you walk with me.”

Ashton was about to protest, but he thought better of it. He knew hoisting her into his bunk would make it hard to focus and he definitely couldn’t cause his band to miss their cue because he got handsy with his girlfriend ten minutes before they were supposed to go on. “Alright then,” he said, kissing her forehead. Get some rest if you can. I’ll be there as soon as I get done and shower.”

She nodded her head barely. “Mmkay. Love you. Break a leg.”

“Love you too, baby,” he smiled, placing another kiss on her forehead.

“Oh, fuck this…” Sam muttered as she stared up at Ashton’s bunk on the bus. She reached on tiptoe to pull her blanket down, but no way in hell was she climbing up there with her head pounding like it was. She swallowed the Motrin with a swig of water and pushed back Calum’s curtain on the lower bunk before crawling inside and trying to get some sleep.

Ashton was the first one on the bus after practically sprinting backstage to change and shower, wanting to check on Sam, Calum on his heels. 

“Baby?” Ashton called out softly, drawing back his curtain. “What the fuck?” he muttered when he didn’t see her there. He could hear her snoring softly, but where the fuck was she? He frowned, crouching down to the bottom bunk and pulling back Calum’s curtain. He smiled when he saw her curled up and fast asleep. “Baby?” Ashton whispered, nudging her gently awake. “Baby, I’m here.”

“Shh, sleeping,” Sam mumbled at him, a hand swatting him away.

“Baby, you’re in Cal’s bunk. C’mon, gotta move ya up a floor.”

“No!” She rolled further into the bunk. “Too high. Couldn’t reach. Didn’t listen.” The broken sentences fell from her lips, a charming characteristic she only did when she was dead tired.

Ashton chuckled. “I’m sorry, baby. But I’m here now. C’mon, I’ll lift you in.”

“Too warm. Bed cold.”

“Hey, mate can you move? I’m exhausted,” Calum’s voice sounded.

“Trying Cal. Someone won’t move, though.”

Sam smiled at Calum’s voice. “Bub bed warm. Fletch bed cold. I stay. You shh,” she continued to speak in broken sleepy sentences.

Ashton and Calum shared a glance. Both men knew that moving a sleepy Sam meant death. The woman may sound cute when she was in a sleep state like this, but she was also mad as hell if you dared disturb her. Calum shoved passed Ashton and crawled into his bunk. “Night, mate,” Calum told Ashton, drawing the curtain closed. 

Ashton drew the curtain back open with a sharp pull. “So, I’m supposed to sleep by myself? In my cold bunk?”

Sam nodded, already curled up against Calum. “Should listen. Sam smart, ‘member? Sam doctor.”

Ashton rolled his eyes playfully. “I can’t believe I just got bubbed in my own relationship…”

“You Fletch. He bub. I’m baby princess,” Sam explained.

“Well, move over cuz Fletch is coming in,” Ashton said definitively, crawling in the bunk.

“What?! No!” Calum protested as Ashton’s body pressed into his. “It’s too small for three people!”

“Shut up and pass me my baby,” Ashton muttered, pulling Sam across Calum’s chest and onto his. “There, we’ll sleep side by side, and she can sleep right here on top of me.”

“If you start fucking, I’m shoving you both out,” Calum grumbled. “Now, close the damn curtain, and let me sleep.”

“Mmm, Fletch,” Sam mumbled happily, nuzzling her face into Ashton’s neck. “And bub,” she added, a hand patting Calum’s chest affectionately. “Love my boys.”

“And we love our girl,” Ashton murmured into her hair. “Go back to sleep, baby. We gotcha.”

In the morning, Calum was curled up in Sam’s blanket, his own blanket still trapped underneath him and Ashton. “Hey!” Sam said, snatching back her blanket. “Blanket thief.”

“Bed thief,” Calum retorted, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “I was cold.”

“So was I!”

“Bullshit, you slept on a heater!” Calum told her, pushing Ashton’s shoulder. 

“He was right next to you all night! How were you cold?”

“How were you cold?!”

“I wasn’t. I just want my blanket.”

“Shut up!” Mike grumbled from further down the row of bunks. 

“Sorry, Mikey. Want me to make pancakes?” Sam called out.

“Yes, please.”

~~~

“Yeah, um how much fabric do you think it would take to make a blanket for two people in love and one blanket thief?” Ashton asked the lady at the counter. “Say they’re all about this big?” he added, gesturing at himself, Calum, and Sam.

“He’s joking,” Sam put in quickly as the lady gave them all a weird look. “Can you point us in the direction of your king sized blankets?”

“Aisle 4,” the lady said, pointing. 

“Thank you,” Sam smiled brightly, skipping off in the direction of the pointed finger. 

~~~

“Okay,” Mike said, his green eyes worried as he eyed Sam sandwiched between Ashton and Calum on the couch. “Real talk. Are you a throuple?”

“We’re not judging,” Luke added. “We just… the nightly cuddling… we’re your friends. You can tell us.”

Ever since her migraine two weeks ago, all three of them had been sleeping in Calum’s bunk. Sam on the premise that it was easier to get into, despite Ashton buying her a collapsible stool; Calum on the premise that it was his bunk and he wasn’t switching; and Ashton on the premise that he slept where Sam slept. And with the king sized blanket solving the blanket thief problem, all three had come to enjoy the new sleeping arrangement more than they cared to ever admit out loud.

The not-a-throuple laughed at the blondes before Sam answered, “It’s just nice to be held. I mean, I’ve personally never slept better. It’s fun too. Like a fort almost.”

“And there’s a strict no funny business in Fort Hood,” Calum interjected.

Sam rolled her eyes. “It’s Fort Rhythm, bub. Fort Hood is already taken.”

“I like cuddles and forts…” Luke pouted.

“Focus!” Mike told him. “So, not a throuple?” The attention was back on the three on the couch.

Three head shakes with a uniform, “Nope.”

“So, can we build a fort?” Luke asked.

~~~

“Who needs mattress pads when I can do THIS!” Sam laughed, sprawling across all four men after Fort Luke Sucks Balls was manifested in the living room area of the tour bus. “Oh, damn partner… I knew you were broad shouldered, but damn, you are an actual giant.”

“Watch that mouth of yours,” Ashton growled playfully, grabbing at her chin as her head moved to lay on his chest.

“You know what?” she asked, readjusting herself across her human pillows. “Just for that, you get stuck with my feet,” she giggled, wiggling her toes in his face.

“Bad idea, baby,” Ashton said, gripping her ankles in one hand and tickling her with the other.

“No! Stop!” she squealed, her weight constantly shifting on the other men-earning protested groans- as she lunged forward to try and pry Ashton’s hand off her feet. “Stop! Please!” She continued to fight between laughs, tears falling down her cheeks as she fought for breath. “Fletcher!”

At the full middle name usage he stopped immediately. “I told you it was a bad idea.”

“Tickle me again and you’re out of Fort Rhythm.”

“You can’t kick me out of the fort that you half named after me!”

“Hey, bub, wanna teach me how to play drums so we can kick Fletch out of Fort Rhythm?”

“Can you replace him in the band, too?” Calum smirked.

“Alright, I won’t tickle you,” Ashton relented. Then, with a dangerous smirk, “Fellas?”

Three pairs of hands started ticking Sam’s feet and ribs while she screamed and squirmed. “No! Stop it! Someone’s gonna get hurt!” Sam’s voice echoed around the bus and almost like her words willed it to be true, she smacked Ashton straight in the face. 

“Motherfucker!” Ashton winced in pain, a hand cradling his cheek. “Alright stop!”

The tickling ceased and Sam scrambled to Ashton. “Shit, Fletch, are you okay?!”

“Fuck, I’m glad that wasn’t a fist,” Ashton grumbled, removing his hand from his bright red cheek. 

Sam’s blue eyes went wide before her lips were on his cheek, feeling the heat from her unintentional slap. “Fuck, Fletch, I’m so sorry!”

“Duly noted. No tickling in Fort Luke Sucks Balls,” Ashton continued to grumble. 

“Or sex,” Calum added. 

“Anything else?” Mike asked, getting up and moving to the kitchen area, rummaging around. 

“Name change!” Luke shouted. 

“Admit you’re 6’4”!” was the unison retort before Sam went back to apologizing profusely to Ashton. 

“Baby, I’m fine,” Ashton assured her.

“I’m so sorry!”

“It was my fault.”

“You’re right, but I’m still sorry. Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’d hate to have you hit for me real. Damn, woman,” he said with a proud small smile. His girlfriend kicked ass.

“Alright, here,” Mike declared, waving everyone over to him. “Sign,” he instructed, handing Luke the bottle of mustard. 

“What the fuck?” they all laughed, looking at the tortilla that had the following written in ketchup:

Fort Luke Sucks Balls Rules

No sex of any kind

No tickling 

The makeshift contract already bore Mike’s initials in mustard. The bottle of mustard got passed around as they all added their initials to it.

“Can we all watch a movie now or something?” Sam asked once the aptly named Tortilla Treaty was signed. 

“Mean Girls?” Luke suggested. 

With the fort named at his expense, they all agreed that watching the movie of his choice was more than a fair arrangement.

“You know there’s plenty of space in here, Fletch,” Sam whispered once they all got comfortable in the fort. “You don’t have to be shoulder to shoulder with bub.”

“I know. Just gotten used to it I guess.”

Sam moved so she was lying on top of Ashton. “Me too,” she agreed, her face nuzzling into Ashton’s neck, a hand resting affectionately on Calum’s chest. 

“Hey, no sex,” Mike’s voice piped up before a piece of popcorn flew in their direction. “And not a throuple my ass.”

“Look, if you want Sam cuddles, just ask. You don’t gotta be rude about it,” Sam joked, tossing the piece of popcorn back at Mike who caught it in his mouth.

“Okay, I want Sam cuddles,” Mike relented, holding open his arms. “Get over here, queen.”

“What about me? I want Sam cuddles,” Luke put in, crossing his arms across his chest in a mock-pout.

“And none for Luke Hemmings!” Sam laughed at him, before sandwiching herself between both blondes.

The bunks weren’t slept in for the rest of the tour and monthly fort cuddles were added to the BUB Accords when they all got home.

_____

Tag List (Wanna join? Just ask)

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​

[turtlestrash]

Let Your Fire Burn (I)

______

A silent Michelangelo tip-toed across the sewer lair, letting his skill of stealth work its magic as he did not want to wake his brothers. The air was chilly, its unforgiving cold breeze making the orange-banded turtle shiver from the gust. Just as he had gotten a few feet away from his brother’s bedrooms, his stomach mumbled; it craved something to eat.

“Don’t worry, tum, pizza’s on the way.”

Mikey sighed to himself, as his gaze fell upon the the harsh shadows cast by the moonlight’s trickling stream of radiant light. Although, the few rays of the moon would not subside the cold temperatures of the sewer.

“I don’t get it, it’s usually warmer down here...” Mikey whispered to himself in wonder. “I’m so cold!”

Momentarily, after a few more paces, he finally had reached a small fridge in the corner of the living room—a makeshift one, as he and his brothers gladly called it. As he halted in his tracks, staring at the rummaged pillows and blankets on one couch, memories flowed to his mind. His brothers were always messing around in here; weather it be playing games, having cuddles, or even spending time with Dad.

I love this family.

Where was he? Oh, yeah. Pizza.

Mikey swiped a slice of pepperoni from the fridge, and began to munch. It was cold, not unlike the rest of his body, but at least he wasn’t hungry anymore. As he finished the slice, he started heading back to his bedroom to get the rest of a good night’s sleep.

Rustle.

“...what was that?” Mikey turned his head back to investigate the noise, but alas, nothing had appeared behind him. Stupid imagination. He stifled a yawn and began walking again.

“Pst!”

Okay, now that wasn’t imagination. He had definitely heard an unfamiliar voice shot him a greeting. Or, maybe he was just tired...in fact, he was actually getting very tired just then. So tired, that he was about to collapse on the ground. As his vision started to dim to a pinprick, he semi-consciously lay on his shell on the cold, hard sewer floor. He’d thought he felt a pair of hands swoop him up before everything went dark.

💚💚💚

“Hey, man. You all right in there? Hellooo? Anybody home? Please, wake up, dude. Wake up.”

Struggling to open his eyes, Mikey found himself now in some sort of dojo. He could make out a large cherry blossom tree in the middle of it, and below him was what felt like a soft rug. But nothing compared to what he saw above him: another turtle looking almost exactly like him.

“I...who...where...” Mikey tried to get some words out, but it was no use. He was too confused on where he was, who this turtle was, or if what he was experiencing was even reality.

“Who are you?! What am I doing here!?” The poor box turtle shot up and hid in his shell, for he was afraid on where he was. “Please don’t hurt me!”

“Woah, dude, chill!” The other turtle seemed to draw near Mikey and pat him on the shell, and his head peeped out. Maybe he wasn’t a threat after all.

“Please, just...t-tell me who you are and where I am,” Mikey stammered. “I’m scared.”

“My name is Michelangelo,” the blue-eyed turtle began, “And where you are right now is—“

“Your name is Michelangelo?”

“Yes, we’ll get to that later. Anyway, where you are is my home world. Or...sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” Mikey cocked his head to one side in confusion. “What?”

“This is a dream,” the other Mikey explained. “But, what you are experiencing now isn’t made up, dude. I’ve come to you to explain your purpose.”

“My...purpose?”

“That’s right! You’ve got a super special destiny ahead of you! In fact, all of your brothers do.”

“How do you know who my brothers are!?” Mikey, suddenly alarmed, backed up a bit from his counterpart. “Do you want to hurt them?”

“No, no!” The mirroring Mikey shook his head in opposure. “Just follow me into the lair. We’ll talk things out.”

Although hesitant for a slight moment, Mikey did follow the turtle. What appeared in front of them was another room, with a couch, pinball machine, and a television. Pizza boxes littered the ground. Three other turtles—also looking like his other brothers—darted their eyes toward the pair of green reptiles.

“Uh...Mikey, we weren’t supposed to bring him yet,” the turtle with a purple mask, what Mikey assumed to be this world’s Donatello, gave a stern glance at the other orange turtle.

“It’s okay, I’ve got this!” The counterpart sauntered to his brothers, and gestured Mikey to follow.

The turtle in the blue mask spoke up when Mikey was sitting in front of him. “Welcome, Michelangelo. My name is Leonardo, the leader of this team. Now, I’m sure you’re used to Raphael being the leader in your world, but...well, things will change.”

“C-change?” The confusion returned to Mikey; what did this world’s Leo mean by “change”? Will something happen to Raphael?

“But, this is about you,” Leo spoke once more. “I know you are facing adversity, but you shall overcome it. Now, you’re dreaming. So, you think you can create your weapon in this world?”

“I’ve always wanted to see the fire one,” the last turtle to speak, one in red—Raphael, Mikey presumed—eyed him with awe, as if he was interested to see what the littlest brother could do.

“Uh...all right.” It only took a few seconds for him to spawn his magical weapon; the kusari-fundo appeared straight before his eyes, gleaming and glowing with fire. Mikey smiled, admiring his signature weapon of choice.

“Michelangelo,” Leo pointed to the firey weapon. “I assume you remember how cold you were in the lair before arriving here?”

“Yeah, it was freezing...”

“I think that’s a perfect example of what you’re facing.”

“Huh?” Once again, Mikey was puzzled. “I’m not facing anything. I’m as happy as ever!”

“What about your brothers?”

My...my brothers.

Mikey paused; his mind and body both seemed to halt in mention of his brothers.

He’d always feel useless to the team, because he was the youngest. Leo, Raph, and Donnie loved him, and he knew that...but he couldn’t shake the feeling of being inferior.

“Bro,” At last, the other Michelangelo broke the devastating silence. “I know how it feels to be the runt of the litter. But, I’ve seen your family. And they all love you very much.”

“I...” Mikey began to fight tears as his eyes began to water. But, it was to no avail. Suddenly, a waterfall of tears started to stream from his eyes and sting his cheeks. “I’m no help to my brothers! I’m useless! You all say I have a destiny, but that’s not true. I don’t make the team better, I just slow it down! I’m useless! Worthless! I’m...I’m—“

“Shh,” Mikey’s counterpart placed a hand on his shoulder, while wiping away tears. “Mikey, listen. Your brothers love you with all their heart. You must fight the cold feelings inside your heart, and tell em to buzz off.”

Mikey sniffed, trying to get a hold of himself through the flood of emotions reeling through his mind. “I don’t get it...h-how?”

“Your heart is your biggest strength,” the Raphael stood up to meet Mikey’s gaze. “It is your fire, seemingly like your weapon. And, listen; you have the power to kick all those jerk’s butts who keep invading your city. You and your brothers.”

Donatello took a knee to face him. “That’s right! Your brothers will always be by your side.” He gave Mikey a large grin.

Finally, Leonardo looked him in the eyes. “You must burn your fire,” he stated, almost grimly. “Let your fire burn inside if you want to rise. If you all want to rise!”

Mikey was going to finally give the four turtles a thank you, but his head suddenly swam all around him. After a few moments, he was flooded by a pitch-black darkness.

[bemorechillifries]

dreams

Fire.

He wonders if everyone will make it out safely.

Well, other than him, he supposes. He'll burn to ash and even his soul won't make it out okay, not after everything he's done, and then he'll never stop burning and burning and burning andburningandburningandburningandburningand--

Rich's eyes snap open, jolting upright and kicking himself free of the sheets, a scream perched on the edge of his lips. Awake, he's awake, he supposes, but if he's awake then why can he still feel flames licking scalding tongues across his skin, why can he taste the smoke clogging his lungs, why can he still smell himself burning, why is he still burningburningburning--

Cold.

Cold water against hot, clammy skin. Shower. He's in the shower, icy water making the tile slick under his hands. How did he get here? He doesn't remember anything, only fire.

He doesn't move, doesn't do any of the normal shower procedures. He just stands there, staring blankly down at the faucet, letting the freezing water soothe his skin while the sound soothes his mind. He pretends it's rain, his own personal thunderstorm to settle his thoughts, put out the fire in his head.

He chuckles bitterly under his breath. He may be out of the fire, but the fire's sure as fuck not out of him. It's trapped beneath his skin, smoke stuck in the slight rasp of his voice.

When he finally starts to register how fucking cold the water actually is, he shuts it off, drying himself quickly so he can sprint back to bed in his boxers. He's not settled enough to actually go back to sleep yet, so he just tucks himself in and picks up his phone to scroll through Instagram.

420 gay: 1 missed call (23 minutes ago)

The part of his brain that equates late night phone calls to emergency has him dialling back before he really realizes it. But then again, this is Michael, who usually sends memes to the chat at 3 in the morning, Michael whose sleep schedule can only be considered that by the vaguest definition. Michael picks up on the third ring, a conversation already sliding from his lips before he even takes his finger off the answer button.

"--ey, you are awake! Dude, I just saw this thing and I figured you'd wanna hear about it, 'cause you like, like, true crime stuff, right?"

"Are you saying you called me at 2:04 AM to tell me about an unsolved murder case?" Rich raises an eyebrow, even though Michael won't be able to see it, amusement lacing his voice.

"Yes. Although I actually called you at like...1 something. 1:40? I dunno. A while ago."

"Michael."

"Richard."

"I'm pretty sure you're my soulmate."

Michael laughs. "Because I'm about to tell you about an unsolved murder case from 50 years ago?"

"Absolutely. But if you don't hurry up and tell me about the case, I'll have to take that back. You'll be downgraded to Regular Friend again."

Michael gasps dramatically. "Fine, fine! Okay, so. There's this guy, right?"

"Let me guess. He gets murdered."

"Are you gonna let me tell you or are you gonna interrupt every two seconds?"

"Depends on how interesting this case is." Of course, he thinks everything that comes out of Michael's mouth is interesting, but whatever.

Michael scoffs. "Why would I call you at 2 AM if it wasn't interesting?"

"Because you wanted to hear my voi-- I can hear you rolling your eyes already, at least let me finish the sentence!"

"Shut up and let me tell you about the case!" They're both laughing quietly at this point.

Michael continues excitedy telling him about the case. Rich listens with the same amount of enthusiasm. The case really is interesting, but he still interrupts every so often with his own little comments. He wouldn't be Richard Goranski if he didn't. He forgets about smoke covered dreams and fire eating him alive. His thoughts are red and warm and no longer scalding, consuming him.

Eventually they fall into comfortable silence. His eyelids start to grow heavy again and he nestles more deeply into his pillows.

"D'you have, like," he interrupts himself with a yawn, "some kinda sensor or something?"

"Huh?" Michael sounds sleepier himself. Or maybe he's just confused. Rich can't tell. Brain's not on.

"Y'know, like -- like some kinda sixth sense or something? For when I'm not doin' so hot?" Hehe. Hot. Fire. Burning. Hot. He was hilarious and he didn't even have to try.

"What?" Now Michael definitely sounds confused. Rich can hear the little crease forming between his eyebrows as they draw together in his "I am confusion" face.

"'Cause you always seem to find me when I'm havin' a shit time. Can't think how else you'd do it," Rich mumbles. He isn't even sure if Michael can hear him, much less understand what he's going on about. He himself isn't even sure what he's saying anymore.

"I do?" Michael sounds surprised, maybe a little amused at Rich's late night (early morning?) ramblings. "Is that-- does it-- Huh. I didn't know." A pause. "...Are you okay?"

"Mm? Yeah, I'm good, dude." Rich shaked himself awake, rubbing his eyes. "Just kinda...like I'm gonna fall asleep soon. What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah, are you okay?"

Michael chuckles softly into the receiver. "Yeah, I'm fine. Less high, more tired." He pauses again. He's doing that a lot, Rich thinks. He only does that when he has something he wants to say but isn't really sure how to say it, or even if he should. "...I was asking because, you know, you said I always find you when you're having a shit time and, like. That implies that you were having a shit time earlier? But you said you're good now so I guess it doesn't matter now, right? Oh God, I mean, not that it doesn't matter but just--"

Ah. There it is.

"Whoa, Mikey, breathe." Rich figures it's okay to cut him off this time. "I just had a nightmare earlier is all. PTSD bullshit or somethin'. Fire and all that. And I was too worked up to even try sleeping after." He picks at a loose thread on his pillowcase, focusing on that instead of wondering what Michael's expression might be, or if he's saying too much. "But talking about a bloody hotel murder from the 50s really calmed me the fuck down."

Humor and swearing. The best defense mechanisms.

Michael snorts at that, but Rich feels the weird, heavy atmosphere lift. "I mean. Who wouldn't calm down after that?"

"That's what I'm saying!"

There's another pause before Michael takes a breath and says, "Just call me next time, okay? I mean, I'm always up anyway, so, like. Might as well, y'know?"

"'S long as you tell me about another murder," Rich mumbles, stretching and rolling onto his side.

"You still sound like you're about to fall asleep." Michael is smirking. Rich can tell.

"Nahhhh."

"Dude, go to bed. Only I am allowed to be up at ungodly hours of the night."

"Okay, Daddy. Goodnight."

Michael makes a gagging noise. "Gross."

"Don't kinkshame me! I don't kinkshame you for your vore shit!"

"You're right. We must band together against the true evil. Jeremy and his fursuit."

Rich cackles unattractively, Michael's laugh mixing in to create the best melody Rich has ever heard.

Okay, damn, that was cheesy, Goranski. Wow.

Rich is asleep before the call ended screen fades away. He dreams of gentle fingers against rough scars, of guiding a hand slowly to his cheek and chocolate eyes widening under thick lashes and even thicker lens, red cheeks and red hoodies and red slushies. He still wakes up burning, but this one whispers love instead of war.

[waterstar2016]

I would love to see a drabble of each turtle regarding nesting. I have this theory that when they mate, their instincts strongly compel them to make a nest to attract/keep their mate. For example, maybe Mikey piles pillows and blankets on the bed or hides food everywhere. How would each turtle and S/O react? Would the turtles be embarrassed? Would the S/O be confused? Would you consider writing this? Thank you for all your writing thus far and for sharing it with us! You're fantastic!

What a neat idea! Thank you :) I wrote either attracting or keeping a mate depending on what popped up in my head for the guys. Hope you like it.

Hints at NSFW situations.

Leo:

Our leader in blue has decided that he wants you as his mate. He’s going to try to lure you into his abode, because he needs to show you what he’s made for you. If you approve, he will claim you. He will approach you formally. “Tenshi, come with me please? I would like to show you something.” Taking your hands firmly in his while keeping his eyes level with yours he will walk backwards through the lair, leading you. Leo knows you like no other, because he pays attention to you and notices the smallest detail. When you reach his room you will discover a new approach to his decor. You balance him, and he’s made sure that both yours and his personal likes are equally represented. The floor will be covered in hand woven grass mats, each painted (by him) with Japanese characters. Love, passion and tranquility are some of the representations that you will find.

If you love the colour green, there will be blue and green candles, or maybe even turquoise (representing the two of you coming together). Love the ocean? Expect sea shells spread in and amongst his Japanese collectables. If you enjoy reading there will be a comfortable chair with a reading lamp above it ready for you to curl up in. As for the bed, it is going to be a sumptuous masterpiece. Navy blue silk sheets await your naked flesh, while a beautiful comforter in your favourite colour is folded neatly at the bottom for nights that you get cold (he can keep you warm with just a sheet, but this is for when he’s on patrol). The pillows are soft and tempting, with more nearby in a basket. A mini fridge will hold bottles of water (I can’t see Leo eating in the place he sleeps, so no food) In this room, your every desire will be fulfilled (some of which you didn’t even know you had). Leo has made sure that you are going to want to spend a lot of time with him in there.

When you enter the room you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “So this is what you’ve been so secretive over?! You’d been wondering for weeks what was going on with him. “I love it!” Still holding your hands he will ask you if you accept what he’s made. All it takes is a nod. Blue eyes that were nervous are now sly.

Raph:

You and Raph haven’t been dating very long. Even though you’ve told him that you want to be with him, a wave of insecurity washes through him and he panics. He starts scavenging like crazy. The first thing he will do is make a bigger bed, after all he’s huge. He wants to make sure that there is enough room for all of the nightly (or anytime of the day your willing to let him) activities that will (hopefully) happen. Raph loves a high thread count for his sheets. We’re talking Egyptian cotton here. There will be a comforter on the bed, but he’s knitted a duvet for it. I visualize it made with a variegated yarn in the colours of the sunset. Matching decorative pillows will line the headboard. Just toss them off (or hell, use them to hold onto, lift your ass up or bite) when you and Raph decide to bump “naughty’s”. The headboard will be hand carved by him. He may act all tough but when he sees something beautiful he can appreciate it (like you). So I see a design with your favourite flowers and vines, maybe even hearts.

Raph will have a collection of your favourite music all ready to go on an iPod that Donnie fixed for him. While out looking for things he managed to find an old lava lamp. It’s now set up in a corner, the red coloured oil casting a romantic light in the room. If you have a hobby, say drawing, he will have an easel set up for you with a good lamp near it because he wants to watch you sketch. Raph, like Leo will have a mini fridge set up. It will be filled with your favourite foods. And, in case the mood strikes, chocolate covered strawberries. He read somewhere that they are supposed to be an aphrodisiac. The floor will be covered in thick pile rugs. One, he doesn’t want you to get cold. Two, you never know when the mood could strike and he ends up taking you on the floor.

“O Raph, you did this for me? Raph had finally shown you. He was a little embarrassed about this, but he couldn’t ignore his instincts anymore. Once you convinced him to talk to you about why he did it (because he was scared of losing you), at least one (probably more than one) of those nightly activities that he’s been fantasizing about for weeks was going to happen very soon (if not that night).

Donnie:

This guy is going to want to encourage you to keep coming back to him. He’s taken tons of notes on your personal preferences and has complied a database on you. With this information he will create a space that you will love. Some nights you’re hot and some you’re cold. Prepared for either situation, he will have an electric blanket (one that he modified so that it won’t catch on fire if you fall asleep with it on) and some lighter throws ready to go. There will be a body pillow for you to cuddle for when he’s on patrol. He’s made humidifier/dehumidifier that is preprogrammed to your personal preferences. Don’t worry, in case he misjudged, there will be a remote nearby.

On your nightstand will be a charging dock for all your electronic devices. Just place it on the black surface and a “Donnie” icon will flash when charging is complete. The lights, t.v, stereo, CD player, everything is controlled by a handheld, easy to use, universal remote (that he will excitedly show you how to use). He knows that you like falling asleep to white noise so he found a machine and programmed it with the sounds you normally listen to. There will be a love seat set up beside his desk (as a reminder for him to pay attention to you), with the pillow that you like to watch movies with in the corner. Area rugs will cover the floor and he will make sure that you have a pair of slippers for you so your feet won’t get cold. In a cupboard on the far wall are all of your favourite snacks with a chilled section for drinks.

You had been confused lately. Donnie was usually distracted with some project or another but whatever he had been doing lately was all encompassing. He was still affectionate with you, but you could feel that his mind was on something else. When he’d finally approached you, head down feet shuffling and told you what he’d done, you had run to his room to see. “Dove, wait for me!” He yelled. Opening the door you checked everything out. When Donnie came into the room you threw your arms around his neck and soundly kissed him. You didn’t come out for a full day (in your nightstand was a drawer filled with toys, some he had made just for you).

Mikey:

When you walked into the lair, Mikey was nowhere to be found. This surprised you. Normally you were greeted with a huge hug. Then you saw an orange rose, a few feet away an actual orange. After grabbing that you saw an orange frisbee. Smiling, you followed the trail that he had left for you. Arms full of various orange items you opened his bedroom door. The bed was now in the center of the room. It was round and piled high with blankets made of different kinds of fabrics and pillows or every shape and size. There was a hammock (big enough for two) strung up in the far corner, surrounded by orange coloured fairy lights. Beanbag chairs covered the floor and swag carpet finished off the look.

Matching his and her robes were hung on wall hooks and a set of bunny slippers were on the floor of your side of the bed. There was a shelf that was dedicated to all your favourite movies and video games. A full sized fridge was stocked with everything imaginable. Mikey had discovered that you loved Cream Soda, so cases of it rested on top of his Orange Crush. There was vanilla ice cream in the freezer for when you wanted a float (one of your favourite treats). Along with board games and cards Mikey also had a set of “special dice” that he kept in a black silk bag tied with orange ribbon (these ones were nine sided…one dice had actions and the other, body parts).

Mikey was so excited when you finally opened the door. You quickly got over your shock. Being with Mikey was so much fun that seeing him do something like this to encourage you to spend even more time with him just made you love him more.

[drgnrder82]

TMNT: Father’s Day

Notes: I will post to AO3 later, new computer and I don’t remember my login. Also not sure which TMNT series this really fits with. I took elements from 2007 and 2012.

Brow furrowed, Splinter worried as he wandered about the alley picking up papers. Wind scattered a newspaper as he’d dug around in the dumpster and his conscience couldn’t leave the mess. It would serve to help start fires during the chilly nights. Voices traveled down the alley from the street. Hidden in the shadows of the dumpster he waited for the pedestrians to move along, praying there was no reason for them to enter the alley, all the while hoping his four small sons were in their home and not wandering the sewers. No amount of meditation erased that worry. But they needed food.

Stillness returned to the night, the street empty again. He bundled together what food he’d found and the newspaper and stole away into the sewers. He’d made sure to stay close to home, their current section of sewer they called home, sloshing in the sewer water for only a few minutes before turning off and finding their maintenance shaft. His tail flicked at the yellow caution tape as he ducked under. He turned off the corridor to a service shaft for the nearby offline subway. The door, rusted and worn, opened louder than he liked.

“Father!” the four small turtles chorused before realizing their gaffe and murmuring a quick, “Sensei.”

Donatello immediately returned to the tangles of wires strewn about the floor, another lamp disassembled nearby. Michelangelo lay among the electrical components, scraps of paper covered in doodles. Leonardo and Raphael each rubbed at their arms, sparring or a scuffle had been interrupted by his arrival. He let out a heavy sigh, grimacing at the mess. For another time.

“Dinner, my sons.” Unfurling the blanket, remnants of restaurant leftovers piled into a deformed takeout container. Far from appetizing but it would suffice. “Tomorrow we will make a trip. Rest tonight.” He notably left all the food for his sons, preferring to meditate.

Mikey jumped at the food, pried away by Raphael before he could gobble it down. “Share!”

Leo brought their plates, pushing between his quarreling brothers, shoving plates in their hands. “Can we, please, eat without another fight?”

Raphael took his share, retreating to a bare spot, “We could if you would stop ordering me around.”

“You tackled Mikey.”

“Mikey shouldn’t have taken my comic without asking! He can’t even read them!”

“Can you?” Leo retorted.

“I like the pictures. Chris Bradford can take on anyone!”

“Of course, you only care about the stupid comic at the end!”

Donnie tapped his screwdriver on the edge of the lamp. “Why isn’t it working?” Tap tap tap.

“Donnie?” Raph asked.

“Light bulb was good. All the connections are made…”

“Donnie?” Raph tossed a screw at his brother. “Donnie!”

“Raph, he doesn’t hear you.”

“That’s why I yelled.” Raph explained, even if it sounded like shouting.

Mikey crawled along the floor, scattering parts as he inched along, plate scraping the floor and grating on Raph’s ears. “Dinner, Don.” He rolled around, pulling his own plate two him with his toes. Leo wretched as Mikey dug in, shoveling the noodles in fast with one hand and scattering newspaper around with the other. Donnie, still rapping on the side of the lamp, stuck his other hand in the noodles, frowning at his sauce covered hand.

Bright colors from sale ads popped out at Mikey. Streamers and balloons decorated some, “Looks like a party.” Mikey studied them before shoving one at Donatello, “Don, Don! Read it to me! What does it say?”

Donnie separated the paper in his face from the lamp and it’s parts, “Mikey...ah.” Holding the papers back he read, “Father’s Day sale. It’s just an ad for a store selling watches, Mike.”

Mikey took the ad back, balloons dancing around in his head. “What’s Father’s Day?”

Donatello had returned his hand to the noodles, searching for the fork without taking his eyes from the forsaken lamp. “I would presume a day to celebrate fathers.”

Delight took hold of Mikey, “What? When? When is it?”

Donatello glanced at the flier then at their small calendar hanging on the wall, free from a local real estate agent, “Sunday.”

Wasting no time, Mikey pushed aside his plate, ignoring the need wash it, and began drawing on another piece of paper.

“What are you doing?” Leo asked.

“Making dad something.” His tongue jutted out as he concentrated on his drawing, “Maybe a family picture. Or a comic! Oh...oh I’m making dad a comic about our family!”

Leonardo, finished with his noodles, sat with Mikey. “That’s...actually a good idea.”

Drool plastered one of the sketches to Mikey's face the next morning, not that it deterred him from continuing his artistic endeavors. The only positive thing to come from his constant chattering about his gift was that it did encourage the others to work on gifts for Splinter. Donatello insisted on accompanying his father on the long journey to the city dump, spurring a surprisingly animated chorus of agreements from the others, certainly more joyous than was usual. Normally a trip to the dump was a treat that ended in constant complaining. Toothy smiles, unnaturally wide for his sons, followed during the entire journey.

Then he was abandoned just as quickly as they'd agreed to help him when they were at home. Each son skirted off in a different direction, Donatello the only one with a list of supplies they needed to find for their home. Splinter heaved his sack, scanning piles of rubbish for new linens and housewares, praying Donatello would return with parts for their stove and not more electronics to dismantle everywhere in the common area.

He thumped his tail on the packed earth, one of the several junk yard dogs joining him as he walked the darkened paths and avoided any brightly lit piles.

Raph had dug through a couple piles of garbage, willing inspiration for a gift. He knew Michelangelo would be searching frantically for more paper and paints or markers or something similar. Donnie would easily find something to build. Something useful, their father loved having useful things. He could still remember how Splinter had wrapped Donnie in a hug after he'd fixed that radio they'd found. He could listen to stories, news and even music while he tended to their small home. Those were things he couldn't compete with.

Leo. Perfect Leo. He was sure to find the best gift. Nothing he'd find would even compare.

Raph slumped into the pile, enthusiasm draining away.

Donatello dragged his bag, brimming with metal, along the dirt until he found Leo and Mikey.

“Little help?”

Mikey frowned in the box he held, not wanting to damage his finds. Leo stole a glance over his shoulder, “I can take those in mine.”

Raphael took Don's bag, emptying the contents into his own box, leading the way to the sewer entrance they used, seeing Splinter's patience was starting to wane with his sons. Raph stewed as his brothers hung back several paces and discussed their plans in fervent whispers.

Nothing was coming to Raph. Any free time his brothers had around their training and foraging for food was spent on gifts. Mikey wound up chastised several times a day as he was covered in a different medium each time. Paint, pencils and pens. They may have been worn down to nubs or barely worked but he found a way, probably with Donnie's help, and wound up covered in it as he made countless pieces.  

Donnie hid in an annex off their common room, working on endless projects. There was truly no telling which one would be for their father.

Leo, unlike his brothers, focused on meditating with Sensei. If he was making something it was either when they were all asleep or finished and he'd hid it well. Raph punched their spare, bound up mattress, their makeshift punching bag, over and over. Hit after hit not lessening his anger but increasing it. Father's day was in the morning and they'd all agreed to wake Splinter with their gifts all ready. He'd had all week and absolutely nothing to show for it.

He shivered in their dank section of sewer. In the depths of summer he was used to being a little chilled. Donnie said they were insulated in the sewer. He wasn't sure what it meant, but he was still cold. He headed to bed, his brother's slept soundly beside him on their shared mattress, Mikey's snoring not helping him fall asleep. Sitting up he scanned their home.

Donatello had fixed the stove, providing them warm meals again. Father had found blankets on their last trip, less threadbare and given it to his sons. It was scratchy and old, still smelled like the junk yard, but warmer while he slept with an older blanket that barely covered his feet.

He collapsed back onto his pillow, pounding on his head and waking Leo in the process.

“What's wrong?” He rubbed the sleep away.

“Nothing.” Raph turned over, knowing he'd have to pretend to sleep to get Leo off his case.

If Leo backed off. “Did you make a gift for father?” An angry rumble answered him. “Seriously? You had all week!”

“Like you'd understand.” Raph mumbled to his pillow.

“What are you going to find or make in the middle of the night?” Leo laughed. Raph landed a punch into Leo's plastron before he actually left the bed, pacing the room. “Ow, come on. Just get some sleep. We can figure it out in the morning.”

“Yea, saving poor Raph who can't do anything.” “I didn't say that.”

“What's goin' on?” Mikey's groggy voice came from the pillow.

“Raph's,” Leo watched Raph's shadow disappear near the door. “Raph?” Leo bolted up, throwing the blanket off when he heard the door squeal open and closed.

Shivering, Mikey felt for the warm spots where his brother's should have been then rolled closer to Donnie, stirring him as well. “Mike? What're you doing?” He threw Michelangelo's hand from his chest.

“Raph and Leo are fighting again. I wanna sleep.”

“It's the middle of the night.” Donnie sat up, the room still. “Where are they?”

“Raph left.” Mikey wrapped more blanket around him. “Leo followed.”

Raph splashed in the water, kicking it every few steps. “Stop following me.”

Leo chased, though he tried to avoid the water and making so much noise. “You're going to get noticed. Where are you even going.”

“Finding dad a gift!” The first ladder he found Raph climbed. He'd never had to push the manhole cover off and he nearly lost his footing. Leo called out as loudly as he dared, expecting to be ignored. Raph continued up. They hadn't gone far from home, Raph had probably gone up into an alley since there was no traffic sounds overhead. Leo bit down and climbed after Raph.

“I don't need your help!” Raph shouted, the echo so different on the surface. He was on the surface. Without father. He looked up into the sky, the sliver he could see, through the fire escapes.

Leo poked his head from the manhole, scanning the alley for anything, anyone. “Get back here, you're going to be seen!”

Donatello hesitated. Telling father would get everyone in trouble and Leo could certainly talk some sense into Raph before he'd do anything irrational. Or not. Not with the amount of time they had been gone already.

“Father?” Donatello gingerly prodded Splinter.

“Yes, my son? Is everything alright?” Sleep still called to him but his son's worried face tore him from his warm bed.

“Raph is missing.” Donnie pointed to the door.

“Missing?” Splinter's cane not far from him, he pulled himself up and set off out of their home. “Stay here. I will return.” That tone meant they were all in trouble. Extra training for sure.

Wide awake, Mikey rolled in the blanket, making himself into a burrito. “Where are you going, Donnie?”

“Getting the medical kit. Someone's coming back injured for sure.” Mikey giggled, enjoying the blanket and it's warmth.

Bang! Something landed on the metal garbage cans at the doorway near the end of the alley, making them both jump. Leo peered from the manhole, his eyes adjusting to the moonlight. Raph froze, sensing movement. Multiple things moving. Cautiously, Leo pulled himself up out of the manhole. A cat pranced by, pausing to meow at them. Both let out a breath they'd been holding.

“Dumb cat.” Raph hissed at it. He headed further into the alley but had no clear idea of what he was going to do. There were dumpsters and some cans, the fire escapes led up to the roofs. And potential people to see him. He also realized he was without his cloak, or any clothes they used on the surface. He'd just run.

Tags jingled on the cat's neck as it passed Leo. He tried grabbing the cat only for it to hiss and scamper away. Raph trotted after it, scooping it gently in his arms. He'd never held a cat before. They'd pet the dogs at the junk yard once their father had befriended them. “It's ok, kitty. I don't like it when he tries to grab me either.”

“Someone's going to come looking for it. It has a home.” Leo clinked the tags together hoping it didn't take a swipe at him. “And we have to go home before dad wakes up.”

Raph ignored his brother and headed for the fire escape.

“You're not taking my spot! Punk ass kid! This is my alley!” A can flew toward his head from behind the dumpster. “Get out!” Dirt caked on the man made him blend well into the surrounding wall. Until he hurled the can. “Huh, some costume kid.” Another can flew at Raph, “And don't even think of taking my cans! Those are my cans!”

“Right.” Raph started up the fire escape, savoring the small cat curling up on his arm. Another barrage of cans flying into the wall under him and Leo sending his own apologies. Making it safely to the fire escape ladder he climbed with Raph. “Why're you still following me, mini-Splinter?”

“Because, it's not safe. We need to go home, Raph.” Leo gulped at the sight of how far they'd climbed.

Cat wriggling in his arms, Raph let him down. He leaned into a step, watching the cat climb higher to an open window. “Thundercat!” Squeals of delight rang from the open window before it shut and they were alone again.

Leo saw Raph's shoulders fall. Neither was in view of a window, at least not easily but, “Well, you brought it home. Let's go.”

“I don't have anything for dad yet.”

“Raph, we shouldn't be here. What's gonna happen if someone that wasn't that crazy man down there sees us?”

“You don't get it!” Raph slid down the handrails, crashing into his brother. “I have nothing to offer dad.”

Nothing. Leo smirked, he had nothing he could say to stop his brother. They started back down the fire escape. “It's stupid anyways. Dad wouldn't want anything I'd give him.”

“Father loves all of us.” Leo choked, “Come on. He...”

Bottles and cans started raining down into the alley from the roof over shouts of joy from a group of kids. They aimed for the dumpster where the homeless man sat huddled in the dark corner. His anger boiled over after each crackle of glass or ding of a can. Profanity after profanity until one can hit him and his anger turned to pain. All the while the kids laughing, daring the other to throw another one.

Leo placed himself next to Raph, his teeth grinding. Neither saw their father come out of the manhole.

Splinter snapped his hood over his head. It wouldn't cover his entire face but enough in the dim light. Aluminum cans littered the ground among shards of glass. Among the tinkling of glass as another bottle broke he heard the gleeful kids above. And the moans of pain. It hurt to ignore someone in need but the rattling ladder made him dive into the shadow of the dumpster.

“Raph, let’s go!”

“I’m not leaving! Those kids think it’s ok to...to….arg!” He lashed out at the garbage cans, creating more of a mess. Rotten food rolled around. Leo’s gaze bounced back and forth between the roofs and the manhole, trying to decide what he should do. He had trouble overpowering Raph during training, or fist fights. With his rage he wasn’t sure he could stop him. He had to stop him. Well, he should stop him. He blinked and Raph’s arms were full of food as he jogged up the fire escape.

“Raph, no. Wait.” Splinter laid a hand on his son’s shoulder.

“I will go after him. You head home. Now.” Hood obscuring his eyes, Leo knew better than to argue.

“Yes, Father. Sorry.” Leo sighed. His father dashed up the fire escape after Raph, faster than he’d seen his father move. “Don’t be too hard on him.” Leo’s soft voice called out enough to make Splinter hesitate. Leo didn’t see his father stop below Raph and watch his son. In the shadows, the homeless man huddled in the corner realizing that the boys he’d seen were not a hallucination or the alcohol in his system, but actual turtles.

The kids seemed to be back to taunting one another, a new bag of ammo ready. They were pushing each other around, seeing who could make the first shot when Raph took aim of his own. Before the first can was picked up a rotten tomato smacked into the cheek of a boy. Juice and mold clinging to his skin, making him heave from the stench. “What the hell?”

“You think it’s funny?” Raph tossed a salad’s worth of vegetables on the boys, more ripe with age than the first tomato, he had to concentrate not to vomit himself.

Splinter knew he should stop Raphael. He was close enough to the roof that if the children looked over they would easily see him. The food kept them back from the edge for the time being.

“How do you like it?” Raph jumped in triumph as he heard their curses at him.

One boy braved coming toward the edge, “Trash throwing trash?” Raph found some rancid noodles and hurled them up. “Aah!” Covered in the noodles, the smell overpowering him, he vomited over the edge of the roof and directly onto Raph.

“AH!” Ducking back, Raph hit his shell hard into the building and wiped away the vomit. But he was proud. He could hear them retreating to their parents. As their footfalls died away, Raphael rushed the roof. His father waited, breath caught in his throat. His son, alone, rummaged around the roof, first throwing out profanities. Giving him a wide berth Splinter ascended to the point he could see the roof. His son busy cleaning the trash left by the children. Albeit complaining while he did. “You'd think they were the ones to live in a sewer.” Empty beer bottles lined the ledge. The next fodder they never got to use.

A large garbage bag sat at his feet. Glass landed with a clink. Another. And another. He wasn't about to clean the entire roof but this was helping him settle...everything. His mind felt clearer. Dragging the garbage bag up he stepped onto the ledge again until the brick under him slid out. Training kicked in and he caught himself. “At least they weren't throwing these.” Raph batted the next brick which fell away. The gap in bricks was stuffed with a wadded up blanket. After a few tugs he unfolded the parcel. Few trinkets lay inside. Pictures of a family. A happy little girl, and even happier small boy. The mom and dad each sweetly holding the children. One picture they were at a beach. He had no idea if it was a beach here in New York or farther away. He wished he could place it. Another there was a lot of grass. Not Central Park. The kids aged a little in the pictures. A bear was wrapped with the pictures, guarding them. They were old, weathered a bit, just like the bear. The wool blanket was just as old and scratchy. And warm. Heat blossomed from his shoulder where the blanket was draped.

Ripping open the garbage bag again he searched for a clean bottle. Rolling the pictures neatly he dropped them in the bottle. “You keep these safe. Guess that's what you were supposed to be doing anyways, eh?” He liked the bear. Bears were strong, after all. And it could have used a good home now but it still had a job to do. “I'll come check on you though.” The bear, nestled back in the hole, held the bottle tight as he replaced the bricks. “And you, you're perfect for dad.” Wrapping the blanket over his other shoulder, Raphael hefted the garbage bag and stepped onto the fire escape.

Splinter was down the escape as he heard his son claim the blanket. He could only guess what could possibly make his headstrong son start to tear. Raphael's strength, and quick temper, tended to lead to confrontations and his need to step in. He knew this was not the time to scold his son. Dodging the can and bottle remains Splinter took up the blind spot on unoccupied side of the dumpster. The lid swung open and closed again. His son groaned as more cans and glass scraped against the ground.

“You...you ain't in a costume.” The man huddled further into the corner. His bottle of vodka involuntarily shook as he glanced between it and the giant turtle pondering if he'd finally drank too much.

Raph had heard his father field these questions at the city dump before. He didn't think he could keep his temper in check again and said, “Why didn't you move. Those punk ass kids were trying to hit you.”

Tatters of cloth swathed around his legs flipped open. One of the man's legs ended at the knee. The moonlight afforded him just enough light to see the outline of a crutch in the shadows. “Army.”

Raph returned to clearing away the last of the bottle shards, silently. The man stared at him as he cleaned, pushing the bottle further and further, sure he was hallucinating.

The blanket itched his neck. It was no good. He pulled it off and covered the man. “Guess I'll have to come check on you too.”

The man rubbed the blanket between his fingers, savoring the thickness and warmth despite the warmth of the summer evening. “I...I have...I don't have anything.” Raph waved away his offers, though guilt wrenched him for giving up his gift so quickly. The man was rummaging, looking for anything. A small wrapped candy, the wrapper smeared with dirt, pressed into Raph's hand. “Thank you.”

Biting back the sting of more tears, Raph nodded and stood to go. His father stood between him and the manhole. “Dad, I...”

With no malice, none of the condemnation of a parent knowing his son had gone against so many of his rules or wishes, Splinter opened his arms, “Come my son, let's go home.” His own tears falling as Raphael joined him.  

He'd followed his father down the manhole, even replacing the cover. After enveloping his son in a hug he'd started the trek home in silence. Raphael tried to explain. He splashed after his father pleading him to listen. “Dad. Dad please. I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have gone up.” No response. “It was reckless and I could have been spotted – er well I was but-but he's not going to say anything. Just like those guys at the dump. Dad, please.”

“I saw enough.” He slowed. Tail whipped water away pensively.

“Dad. All-all I wanted was to get you a gift.” Raphael's fists clenched, flexing the fingers after a minute. His father wouldn't even face him. He'd never seen him shed a tear.

“A gift? For what?”

“F-father's day.” Raph closed his fingers around the small candy. “It's stupid. It was Mikey's idea. He saw it in the newspaper you brought home. Stupid.” Turning, he wound his arm back to throw the gift he'd received. “I got nothing to offer.”

“Nothing?” He lightly grasped his son's arm. His arm turned limp after his son's. “You gave me the greatest gift tonight.” Raphael allowed the candy to roll out of his hand, dropping into his father's. “Every parent fears they have failed their children. You showed me I have not. There is no greater gift.” More tears fell. Dripping down Raph's head and some leaking from his own eyes.

Mikey hopped around jostling sheets of paper. His brother and father had been gone long enough that he was completely awake, parading around forcing Donnie and Leo to prepare. Donatello insisted on preparing the medical kit over Mikey's preparations, though he was persuaded to help when Leo arrived home again.

As the door opened Splinter and Raph were greeted with an eruption of noise, “Happy Father's Day!”

Pancakes, or Mikey's equivalent, stacked on the largest plate he could find with Leo, Donnie and Mikey and various gifts at their feet. Thrusting the plate at Leo, Mikey dove to his father and pulled him and Raph in to show off everything they had done. His own heart full, Splinter pulled Raphael closer into a hug and shared the late night snack with his sons.

Mouth full of pancakes, Mikey fell next to his father showing off the comic he'd drawn of their adventures. The comic focused on their travels around the city for supplies and needing to find a new home after people found their last home. Donatello had finished the lamp, not just an ordinary lamp. He'd found a UV bulb that would allow them to grow some plants down in the sewers. Leo, in his junior fashion, had found a tea kettle and cup set. Matching. Chipped. But still perfect.

After their late night snack, all four of the turtles finally in bed and sleeping comfortably, Splinter took the small candy from his pocket. A small photo sat framed next to his mattress, an instant photo taken with a camera Donatello had found with a few pictures left on the cartridge. Sitting against the frame he stared at the token and his sons until he drifted back to sleep.

[jamesbarnesbestgirl]

Just The Beginning Part 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (Slow Burn)

Featuring: Peggy Carter, Howard Stark, Steve Rogers

Word Count: 1728

Warnings: Porbs cringy writing as this is my first fanfic in over 4 years. Swearing.

A/N: Here is part 3. Sorry it’s been a while, but I’ve been busy with sorting school out, and I was very sick and I’m just bouncing back. If you wish to be tagged please feel free to message me. Also any feedback is much appreciated.

Reader POV

I was so caught up with watching my friends interaction with Steve that I didn’t notice the initial explosion until Howard had knocked me to the ground.

By the time my ears stopped ringing and I looked up Dr. Erskine was on the ground, dead. “What the fuck happened!” Howard shouted, looking around at the damage that had been done.

I slowly start to get up, being mindful that the pressure from the blast might have given me a mild concussion. “Is anybody injured?” I ask beginning to try and help.

A half hour later I had just finished patching up those who were hurt when Peggy and Steve walked back into what was left of the lab. They went strait over to Colonel Philips and began speaking to him. I could see that Steve was getting visibly frustrated so I decided to walk over and see what was going on.

“Ah, Nurse Y/L/N. As you can see, by the disastrous events that just occurred, Project Rebirth is being terminated effective immediately. Thank you for your assistance in patching up people from the blast and your work in helping patient zero over here survive.” Colonel Philips said, while gesturing to Steve.

“Thank you sir. What are my orders?” I ask, stealing a glance at Steve who has calmed down a bit and is now politely smiling at me.

“Well, I’m going to give you a choice. You could either be deployed to the front lines of Europe as originally planned, or you could stay here in the states. Rogers here needs a nurse to be able to monitor him while we run tests to see if we can recreate the serum.” Philips stated.

“Well, if Steve needs…” I began, but was cut off.

“With all due respect Y/N, you don’t need to stay behind. You said earlier you enlisted to help people, so don’t worry about me.” Steve interrupted you with a bitter sweet smile on his face.

“Alright, I guess that means I choose the front lines.” I say with a smile.

“Good, plain leaves 0800 tomorrow. But before you go please give Rodgers here the once over.” Colonel Philips says before dismissing you.

The next 24 hours that followed were a whirlwind. Between re-checking Steve’s vitals and drawing blood to see if the scientists could attempt to recreate the late doctors formula, helping Howard clean up the lab, and packing up for tomorrow, I barely had enough time to catch some shut eye before I found myself on a plain towards Europe.

After a 12 hour flight from New York to London; including a stop off in St. johns to refuel, and a 5 hour train ride I finally arrived at the camp.

“Welcome to what we’ll call home for the foreseeable future.” Colonel Philips stated as we exited the truck that had picked us up from the train station. “Better go rest up girlie. Your day starts at 0700 tomorrow morning.”

I quickly thanked him and headed towards the nurses barracks. To say slept well would be an understatement. I normally don’t sleep at all when I move to a new place, but I was so exhausted from the trans-atlantic journey that the second my head hit the pillow I was out cold.

I was woken up; far to early in my opinion, by the bugle call. I quickly got dressed and head to the mess tent where I grabbed a quick breakfast. I then made my way towards the medical tent.

When I entered the tent the first thing that caught my eye were what appeared to be the 30 or so cots all lined up in two orderly rows. Only about 10 or so cots were occupied, although a sinking feeling in my gut told me it would’t stay that way for long. My eyes trailed along each cot with sympathy, before reaching a makeshift desk that had a young nurse standing behind it talking to another nurse with a clipboard. The first nurse turned towards me, while the other went to go assist one of the occupants of the cots.

“You must be the new girl?” she asked with a kind smile.

“Yes, Nurse Y/L/N, but you can call me Y/N.” I replied shaking her hand.

“Nice to meet you. I’m Dita, and the other nurse over there is Lucy.” Dita said while pointing over to Lucy who waved. “Let me catch you up to speed on how things work around here. Day shift is 0700 until 1900 with an half hour lunch and dinner rotation, and night shift is 1900 until 0700 with an hour sleep rotation. We switch shifts every other week, but since you’re new we’ll start you off with a day shift.” She says kindly.

“Sounds simple enough. Where do I start?” I ask with enthusiasm.

“You can start by giving out the soldiers breakfasts based on their respective charts. Once thats done, you and Lucy can start redressing any wounds with fresh bandages.” she said while pointing to a tray of food and a stack of patient clipboards. “Each cot is numbered with its matching clipboard so it shouldn’t take to long. Mornings are usually quiet. It’s the afternoons when the troops get back from there rounds and objectives that things start to get really busy. If you need any help feel free to ask.” Dita said, then sat down and started filling out some paper work.

I spent the morning handing the soldiers their meals. Lucy had introduced me to the 8 soldiers that were currently staying in the med ward. When it came time to redress there injuries we each decided to treat 4 of them.

My first patient, Adam, had a head wound that looked worse then it actually was. He said he had been pushed out of the way of oncoming fire and hit his head on a rock. He said that the doctor wanted to watch him overnight and had given him antibiotics to ward off infection.

My second patient barley spoke while I redressed his wound. From his patient chart it said his name was Edmond from Morristown, New Jersey. He, according to Adam was the soldier who had saved him from the enemy fire. He had suffered from a bullet wound to his right side. Luckily it looked liked the bullet had passed trough, and missed all vital organs.  

Jack, my third patient, didn’t need a wound to be redressed because he had apparently been admitted with Tuberculosis. The poor soldier couldn’t have been any older then 22, but sadly he had already begun to cough up blood, according to his patient chart. I gave him his dose of antibiotics and an extra piece of bread to help keep the nausea at bay. My forth patient for the morning, David, only had a concussion, so he had stayed asleep after breakfast.

It wasn’t until around 1500 hours that things started to pick up. Soldier after soldier came in, some with easily treatable things like sprained wrist and dehydration, others with bullet wounds that had just barley missed their lungs. It wasn’t until 1630 hours, when I was just finishing wrapping a through-and-through that Dita called me to the front of the tent.

“Y/N can you fill out this patients paper work for me while I help him to a cot?” she asked while she put the patients arm around her shoulders and began to walk him towards a cot with one of his fellow soldiers.

“Sure, no problem.” I say as I quickly walk over to the desk and start a new patient form. I look up towards the other soldier that had brought in the new patient when I was met with a pair of the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Standing before me was an incredibly hansom soldier. He stood around 6 foot tall with a blinding white smile, strong jaw line, and broad shoulders. His hair was slightly out of place, most likely due to helping his fellow soldier, but he still looked as if he had just gotten ready for the day. I had to prevent myself from letting out a gasp as my eyes quickly shifted down to focus on the form, trying to suppress the blush that was rising to my cheeks.

“Name?” I ask, keeping my eyes trained to the form.

“The names Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. What’s yours Doll?” he says with a confident tone to his voice.

I quickly collect myself and laugh a bit at his response. “I meant your friends name, who is currently being helped to a cot.” I state with my eyebrow arched, daring him to defy me.

“Fair enough, his name is Mike Brown.” Bucky said chuckling at your attempt to intimidate him.

“Date of birth?”

“Don’t know.”

“Place of birth?”

“Queens, New York I think.”

“And how exactly did he end up hurting his leg, Sergeant Barnes.” I ask while writing the other information down.

“Well Mikey here is a bit of a klutz. He might have tripped when he was trying to get out of the transport truck, and landed on his foot in a wrong way. I heard a crack when he hit the ground and I think it’s broken.” Bucky stated, eyeing you up and down.

“Barnes! You better not be lying to my nurse!” Mike shouted from across the tent, causing you to giggle.

“Of course not Mikey!” Bucky called back. “He hurt his leg fighting off 100 nazis single handedly.” Bucky said loud enough for Mikey to hear winking at me.

“Damn straight!” Mikey called back causing me to smile and shake my head at the soldiers antics.

“Thank you Sergeant for your help. You are free to go.” I say as you put the finishing touches on the form, struggling to not to glance at his eyes.

“Please, call me Bucky. Plus you still haven’t told me your name Doll.” Bucky said with a cocky smile.

“I know.” I say with a flirty smile and turn away from him. “Have a nice evening Sergeant Barnes.” I toss over my shoulder as I walk towards Mikey’s cot to get the remaining info for the paper work and help Dita bind his leg.

Tag List: @mizz-kraziii @littlebunnybigheart @c-ly-g

[vnv-test]

1-99

Dude what the f u c k

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? - Sound Cloud

is your room messy or clean? - MESSY LOL

what color are your eyes? - Golden brown

do you like your name? why? - Yes! Because I picked it and it’s something I’ve grown very comfortable with

what is your relationship status? - Single

describe your personality in 3 words or less - loyal, funny, hard-working

what color hair do you have? - brown

what kind of car do you drive? color? - a gray toyota sienna (I’m basically a soccer mom)

where do you shop? - amazon, maybe hot topic. I dont really shop

how would you describe your style? - clothing? Laid back. I wear basketball shorts, athletic shoes, a t-shirt, and sometimes a hat 

favorite social media account - instgram or tumblr

what size bed do you have? - full

any siblings? - yep, little sister

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? - tbh california, just not my current city. I like it here, it’s pretty liberal and open and the weather is slightly standable in the spring

favorite snapchat filter? - doggo

favorite makeup brand(s) - lmao I don’t wear makeup

how many times a week do you shower? - not enough

favorite tv show? - orange is the new black

shoe size? - LOL 3 IN KIDS

how tall are you? - 5′1″ FINALLY

sandals or sneakers? - sneakers all the way

do you go to the gym? - no, we have a workout room at home plus im in band so that works well enough

describe your dream date - oh boy. Honestly just doing something chill together and going for a walk and looking up at the stars together. Nice cuddling and some kisses thrown in there too lmao

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? - $0, I don’t use cash

what color socks are you wearing? - white

how many pillows do you sleep with? - 1, sometimes 2

do you have a job? what do you do? - I do not, menchies rejected me

how many friends do you have? - a big group of like 10 or 11 who I can really call friends and actually depend on

whats the worst thing you have ever done? - oh fuck okay, probably run a red light and almost tboned someone but luckily they stopped because my dumbass is a terrible driver

whats your favorite candle scent? - cinamon

3 favorite boy names - ALEX, Mikey (cuz he’s my bff and I love his name), and Andrew

3 favorite girl names - Taylor, Sarah, Kate

favorite actor? - idk man

favorite actress? - Amy pohler 

who is your celebrity crush? - Laura Prepon god she’s so fucking hot

favorite movie? - Power rangers

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? - not really, but my fav series is chaos walking

money or brains? - brains

do you have a nickname? what is it? - yes! a lot of people call me shimmy or Shim

how many times have you been to the hospital? - I got hurt a lot when I was younger to I went to the urgant care but that’s it

top 10 favorite songs - 1. You’re gonna go far kid 2. First by Cold War Kids 3. Forest by ToP 4. be Still by the killers 5. mr. brightside by the killers 6. The Violence by Rise Against 7. Cecilia and the satelite 8. Handclap 9. Believer by imagine dragons and 10. tear in my heart

do you take any medications daily? - nope

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) - dry

what is your biggest fear? - losing someone i care about

how many kids do you want? - 3

whats your go to hair style? - Parted on the side and just kinda swept over and pushed forward? Idk how to descibe it ill post a pic after this tho

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) - i guess it’s a little on the bigger side

who is your role model? - my friends mikey and lexi (@bridkid)

what was the last compliment you received? - “You’re tone sounded really good that rep”

what was the last text you sent? - “Are you shitting me” to Lexi after seeing that someone was making me answer 99 fuckin questions

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? - bruh idk maybe 9, 10?

what is your dream car? - idk just not my current van

opinion on smoking? - dont do it

do you go to college? - nope I’m a junior in high school

what is your dream job? - high school band director

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? - suburbs

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? - nah

do you have freckles? - not really

do you smile for pictures? - I try

how many pictures do you have on your phone? - 431

have you ever peed in the woods? - definitely

do you still watch cartoons? - of course

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? - wendys

Favorite dipping sauce? - BBQ

what do you wear to bed? - basketball shorts and a t shirt, sometimes I sleep shirtless if it’s too hot tho

have you ever won a spelling bee? - nope, never participated in one

what are your hobbies? - music and hanging out with friends

can you draw? - yeah I’m not terrible at it

do you play an instrument? - Yes! Trumpet, piano, saxophone, french horn, euphonium, bass drum, and pit percussion

what was the last concert you saw? - Does DCI count

tea or coffee? - coffee

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? - starbucks

do you want to get married? - maybe, probably

what is your crush’s first and last initial? - DR

are you going to change your last name when you get married? - probably, just because I don’t like my last name rn

what color looks best on you? - blue

do you miss anyone right now? - my friend lexi cuz bitch graduated

do you sleep with your door open or closed? - closed holy shit

do you believe in ghosts? - not sure

what is your biggest pet peeve? - my trumpet section

last person you called`- Nathan, one of the sophomores in my section because he was super late this morning

favorite ice cream flavor? - cookies n cream

regular oreos or golden oreos? - regular

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? - gay

what shirt are you wearing? - my SCSBOA 2015 Championships shirt

what is your phone background? - a picture of me, Mikey, and our friend Emma laying on top of each other

are you outgoing or shy? - more outgoing than shy

do you like it when people play with your hair? - YES I LOVE IT

do you like your neighbors? - no 

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? - when I shower I wash it

have you ever been high? - nope

have you ever been drunk? - I’ve been buzzed

last thing you ate? - crab quiche 

favorite lyrics right now - literally the entirety of be still by the killers but i like this part “And may your limits be unknownAnd may your efforts be your ownIf you ever feel you can't take it anymoreDon't break characterYou've got a lot of heartIs this real or just a dream?Rise up like the sunLabor till the work is done“

summer or winter? - summer

day or night? - depends

dark, milk, or white chocolate? - milk

favorite month? - august or november

what is your zodiac sign - pisces

HAPPY I ANSWERED 99 QUESTIONS BUDDY also this proves I have nothing better to do with my life lmao