#mute!leo au

[the-city-kitty]

Really running the risk of getting absolutely bodied for my atrocious hand writing however, idc. I didn’t take pictures of all of them because there’s some odd 15 pages of notes here JUST about all my AUs and WIPs!! I’m gonna probably transcribe these notes into some sort of master post eventually (well, abridged versions at least, I don’t want to have too many spoilers) so that when I start consistently posting about these it’ll be somewhat easy to navigate and they’ll all have individual tags to be found under. But I basically just wanted everyone to know that oh boy do I have plans … after I do my homework, lol (please pay no attention to the dirty coffee mugs on the desk, I am a college student and those are my emotional support mugs, I do clean them I swear)

[los-ninos-tortugas]

Had a creative itch that I just had to scratch. So here are my very poorly drawn renditions of some of my au Leo’s (it’s a learning curve)

We’ve got harbinger!Leo who, in my brain, had the most difficult design out of all of them so I didn’t work too hard on that one cuz I know I just won’t get it right right now anyway.

NIY!Leo wearing his little coronet that is very obviously inspired by Sylvie’s little horn crown from Loki, but Leo’s isn’t broken for obvious reasons.

And we have mute!Leo who’s design mostly consists of gradual changes to his look/accessories as time goes on, the most drastic of which is his tongue piercing that he’ll get sometime later in his story once I finally get around to writing it.

[zelgadis55]

Chapters: 41/? Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Michelangelo (TMNT), Mikey, Dogpound, Chris Bradford, Hamato Yoshi | Splinter, Leonardo (TMNT), Leo, Donatello (TMNT), Donnie, Raphael (TMNT), Raph, April O'Neil (TMNT) Additional Tags: Mikey is captured, Bradford wants revenge, and Shredder allows it, pet trope, Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, not graphic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Hurt Michelangelo (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT)-centric, Turtles, TMNT, Mind Manipulation, Cruelty, time spent in, Japan, New York, at sea, the Farm, Recovery, Brothers Series: Part 1 of Pet Turtle Summary:

Bradford has always blamed Michelangelo for his misfortunes and especially for his mutation so when he manages to capture the young ninja, he's going to make sure he knows exactly what it's like. 2k12 AU.

Warning: Warnings for physical and mental torture in this story abound, as well as for implied and highly disturbing situations. Trigger warnings may apply for some chapters. There will not, however, be gruesome details. Some things are best left up to the imagination.

                   How Much is that Turtle in the Window                                                     ch 41

"Nightmares again, little bro?" Mikey snapped his gaze to Raph in surprise. It was no secret he had them. Hell, it would have been far more shocking if he didn't after everything he'd survived, but unless he thrashed around in his sleep, which thankfully wasn't often given he'd long ago learnt to keep still to avoid drawing unwanted attention, well, being unable to vocalise actually had a couple of advantages. Like not drawing his brothers to him in panic as he screamed in terror in the middle of the night. {Y?} he tapped slowly after extricating his fingers from the handle of the right crutch. "'cause we woke up to find you huddled and shivering under the bed this morning," Raph replied, studying him with a worried frown. "We left you there because, yeah, didn't want to startle you and because you need the sleep. You're still healing." Mikey glanced guiltily up at his brother's face but the bruise he'd left a while back had completely faded away a few days ago now. Raph snorted but didn't say a thing; he didn't need to. They'd had that conversation numerous times now, of Mikey feeling bad about it and Raph telling him not to be such an idiot because no way had it hurt him, visual evidence be damned. {U put,} Mikey motioned to the blanket and pillow half hidden beneath the bed, {on me?} "Like I said, you were shivering," Raph grunted once he translated. {Ty, R.} "Yeah, no problem. So wanna talk about why you ended up on the floor?" 'What's the point?' Mikey thought miserably as he looked away from his brother. 'If I went slow enough for you to keep up, I'd lose track of what I was saying.' Then, just to give Raph something, he blinked no and slowly tapped, {To b close. Where D?} "Donnie's in the bathroom," Raph replied, studying Mikey closely and baulking as he squirmed under his gaze. "Sorry," he muttered guiltily. {Is 'k,} Mikey replied. He worked his fingers around the thin handhold again before cautiously heading for the door. Once outside, Mikey paused to get his bearings, then turned towards the bathroom. Not long after, he stood outside the door, surprised to see it too, wedged open like his bedroom door. Donnie stood inside, working at the sink with a mess of tools and what looked like tap handles surrounding him. Mikey blinked in surprise.

{Wot r u doin', D?} Mikey ventured cautiously.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382507/chapters/111473821  or  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13593827/41/How-Much-is-that-Turtle-in-the-Window

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / ]

AU starts here!

Previous | Next

Path B, otherwise known as “Dimensional Travel for Dummies”, is fun. :)

Nothing like traveling dimensions and universes and accidentally coming across alternate variations of your (dead) brothers with the robot made by your (dead) twin, all while you’re followed by one of your (dead) family members in mute spirit form.

(P.S. if you’re wondering, the haze wisps surrounding Leo are answered about here!)

[bambiraptorx]

[I.D. Three panel digitally drawn comic using characters from ROTTMNT. In the first panel, Leo props his sword on his shoulder and has his other hand on his hip. He raises one eyebrow (really the upper edge of his mask) and smirks, as he says "Okay guys, here we are! Thanks to my portals, we've gotten to Hueso's in record time!" In the next panel, Leo is drawn in the same pose, smaller and in the right lower corner, with a triangle head. Behind him is a large white banner that reads "TMNT AU Comp" in all caps. Under the banner is a large, abstract crowd. In the third panel, Donnie, Mikey, Draxum, and Raph stand together. Donnie holds his arm with his tech gauntlet on it in from of him and his other arm out to the side, leaning forward slightly. He also has a mute symbol on the base of his goggles. He says, "Nardo, this isn't Hueso's." Mikey is perched on the back of Donnie's shell, excitedly sticking a hand in the air with stars in his eyes as he says "Woah! Look at all the people!" Draxum stands behind them, partially hidden by Raph. He holds up a hand and frowns as he sighs and says "Didn't I teach you better than this?" Raph stands partly to the side of Draxum and partly in front of him, a blank look on his face and his hands in front of his body, tapping his pointer fingers together. End I.D.]

Looks like the Minor Interference cast has made it to the @tmntaucompetition! The whole premise of the au is that Draxum is training the turtles so he gets dragged into this with them lol

(also shut up draxum you've barely taught him anything lmao)

[sonic-fankid-showdown]

Poll 8, Round 3.

About Turnip: (by @mysticmonkiee) Turnip is a mute lil six year old, who is someone you should definitely put a bell on. Unless you like being jumpscared by a tiny hedgehog (why would you?) He likes to spend time near plants... although, ironically, he doesn't like turnips. He considers it as cannibalism.

About Silhouette: (by @kingprinceleo) From my [Leo's] 1000YB au. Shes a bioengineering project that Shadow wants to discard, a combination of his DNA and DNA he scientifically determined was most compatible with his own, a harvest mouse. Though surrounded by love from other sources, she starts to become bitter and act out at the lack of fatherly love she receives from Shadow. He Created her. why doesnt he want her. why doesnt he love her. Very cute baby tho :] She also has some black arms DNA that causes some of her fingers and toe claws to be larger than others

[yoonmoonn]

Hiya Leo! Can I request a angst/fluffy au for Jungkook x male reader with situation prompt 2. "He walks behind you when you're in online class" where after Jungkook walks past reader(they're in a secret relationship), readers classmates try to befriend him just so they can meet Jungkook. After class reader feels sad that they only want to be friends just because of Jungkook and Jungkook comforts reader and they cuddle in bed.? Have a good morning, day, night <33

online saddness | jjk

pairing: jungkook x male!reader

genre: fluff, angst

warnings: none

word count: 920

a/n: i'm so sorry this took so long but school has been beating my ass 😭 in the weekend i'm probably post something so 👀

you hated online classes. the interrupted sound and the pixelated images, having to wake up earlier than usual for some classes and all the connection problems. the only thing that was keeping you sane through all of this was your boyfriend - jungkook.

when covid hit, you both decided to quarantine yourself together at his house, wanting to spend all the free time together. you yawn for the nth time before looking at yourself in the corner of your boyfriends monitor. a figure walking behind you catches your eye and you quickly turn around to see your boyfriend looking shocked at you, a worried and regretful look on his face.

he quickly gazes at the monitor, making sure you were muted before his wide eyes look back into yours "shit. i'm so sorry my love, i didn't realise your camera was on" he whispers. your gaze softens at the sight of his worried face "it's okay koo, don't worry" you whisper back. you turn to your lecture again to see some of your classmates' eyes wide, shock evident on their faces "shit" you silently curse. you forgot that some of them were ARMYs.

you look at jungkook, who was in the kitchen, before looking back at your notes. as the teacher announces the homework, signalling the end of the class, you hear your phone buzz. "let's hang out in the meet after the teacher leaves" one of your classmates' texts in the class group chat. you notice some classmates sending in thumbs-ups, so you do too "i should socialise with other people rather than only koo and bam" you chuckle.

like he was reading your mind, the doberman walks over and plops down by your feet, his head resting on the fluffy blanket that laid in your lap - one that your boyfriend made sure you weren't missing, muttering something about the coldness in his house and you wearing shorts. you pet bam's head as you watch your teacher leave the meeting after bidding everyone goodbye.

turning back to jungkook, you watch him for a few as he makes lunch for the both of you "hey koo, i'm gonna stay with my classmates for a few more minutes, just tell me when lunch is ready, okay? " you smile when he nods, his cute pout making you giggle.

you put your headphones back on and turn on your mic, saying a quick greeting before one of the girls in your class interrupts you, a fake smile on her face "hey y/n! how are you? "she asks, but before you can answer she interrupted you again "why did you never tell us that you knew jungkookie oppa? is he as hot as everyone says?" she giggles and some of the others join her "you know, when all this online thing finishes we should all go out sometime, you should bring him too." someone else exclaims before the rest of your classmates join in to agree.

you feel tears well up in your eyes. how come they never even really talked to you until now? before anyone can say anything else you exit the call, trying to stop the tears from flowing down your cheeks. you close the computer and hurry to the bedroom, trying to suppress a cry. closing the door, you sit down on the bed and finally let the tears fall.

you couldn't understand why you were feeling like this. shouldn't you be happy that they want to hang out with you? shouldn't you be happy that jungkook gets recognised? your thoughts get interrupted by a knock on the door and jungkook pocking his head with a frown evident on his face. "baby? what happened ?" he rushes to you when he sees the tears on your face.

kneeling down in front of you, he cradles your face in his hands and wipes the tears off your red cheeks. you shake your head, embarrassed to tell him you're crying over something so stupid. seeing the frown on his face you sigh, looking down at your lap "some of my classmates who never even talked to me before suddenly wanted to hang out after they saw you.

i don't know, it just made me feel bad. i'm sorry, i know it's childish-" he cuts you off before you could even finish, lifting your head so you could look him in the eyes again "first of all, it's not childish, and second, don't you dare apologise. it's not your fault. just ignore them okay?" he whispers as he gets up and pulls you in bed with him, throwing your favourite fluffy blanket on your bodies.

his warm hands wipe the new tears from your face before he presses a sweet kiss on the tip of your nose. "they don't deserve your tears" he smiles, wrapping his arms around you to protect you from the chilly air in his house. he pulls the blanket further on your shoulder and starts tracing thoughtless patterns on your waist.

his free hand pushes your head further into the crook of his neck before playing with your hair. your bodies were like puzzle pieces, fitted perfectly together under the fluffy blanket.

he presses short and sweet kisses all over your face, before pressing a final one on your lips "i love you" he whispers. you smile softly and nuzzle further in his chest "i love you too bunny" you mutter before the both of you fall into a slumber, lunch long forgotten on the kitchen counter.

[sha-biest]

I would like to preface my questions with that i LOVE YOUR ART SO MUCH!!! your gf!au could choke slam me and id thank it.

Anyways! Question! Teen Saber looks like a tall boy. Did he outgrow both his parents? And if so how much did they cry at having their "lil boy" all grown up? (I think leo would bawl and lovingly embarrass Saber)

Second, I *knew* this face looked familiar!

Does this kinda hint at Donnie being Saber's favorite uncle?

Again, love your art! Take care of yourself! Drink lots of water and hope you get plenty of rest!

HJFVFCV THANK YOU SO MUCH!! Saber is very tall! He outgrows his parents, yes and they will never stop to baby him and embarass him (It's Leo and Yuichi... come on. They are both idiots /aff)

As for Saber and Donnie... I'M GLAD YOU POINTED THAT OUT. Saber was scared of Donnie as a kid and his favorite uncle is actually Raph! BUT out of the cousins he acts the most like Donnie. The likes to tinker with machines (Motocycles in particular) and he's got only one person he talks to the most (which is Casey Jr.) while he stays selectively mute with most other people. Funny enough, Ammi acts like Leo the most who was her "least" favorite uncle as a kid (she loves all of them, that was just her baby brain back then)

[amascomet]

I love your designs they're pretty cool! Can you give ous some facts about your au? Specially about leo and april?

Hi! Thank you so much. :)

Here's some stuff for April and Leo. Hope it all makes sense lol

April

- She originally wanted to name Splinter Yoshi cause she enjoyed the Mario Games as a kid. I also think it's like a silly/fun nod to versions of his character where he is Hamato Yoshi.

- Think I've said this before but she introduces herself with her mother's maiden name O'Neil rather than Stockman. She was been in enviormentalist groups before and feels more comfortable when people don't know she's a Stockman.

- Took after him in smarts. She graduated early. The plan was to just stay with Stockman for a year and then try to go independent. Turtles made sure that didn't happen.

- She's got a pile of unopened letters that Stockman sent while she was growing up. She found them when going through her mom's things.

- Handling her mother's death very well btw. It's still upsets her, but it was something that was coming and she made peace with it.

- She also dyes her lab coat yellow after seeing what the turtles do with their mask tails. They're always influencing each other.

Leo

- Very reserved. He's selectively mute. Very vocal when giving orders and strategizing for missions. Outside of work he doesn't say much. He's got a staring problem.

- Because he's so quiet he's constantly sneaking up on people. Not on purpose! He doesn't mean to scare anyone.

- Those attributes earn him the nicknames Ghost and Mr. Robot. Ghost doesn't hurt him as much as Robot does. He's insecure about these things. When he's going through his rough phase April is the first to confront him. She tries to help him understand that he doesn't need to keep trying to be something he's not. He's perfectly fine the way he is.

- Still silly and a little awkward at his core.

- Loves the puzzles and card games April brought. Saying he likes UNO is an understatement.

[rosewaterandivy]

you always come close, but you never come easy

band!au - Steve's birthday on the road in '04 - what could possibly go wrong? 4.4K of self-edited filth - what? my hand slipped! Let's wish Steve the happiest of birthdays under the cut, shall we?

🎶 This won't mean a thing come tomorrow, and that's exactly how I'll make it seem... 🎶

Steven Michael Harrington was the bane of your existence.

A chaotic whirl of genetics, talent, and an absolute knack for driving you batshit crazy. He swears it’s unintentional. You have your reservations about that.

“Should be there soon,” Eddie says, adjusting the volume of the radio.

The end of the ‘04 Warped Tour was near enough you could taste it. Which also meant that Steve's birthday was soon approaching— he’s a Leo, bless— and Hopper had swung a much needed hotel stay for the band.

Showers, A/C that actually worked, not having to sleep with Rob’s feet in your face— what bliss. You could hardly wait, had even convinced Eddie to drive straight through to get there sooner.

Steve and Rob had passed out while Eddie drove and your bladder was fit to burst from the Gatorade you’d chugged back a few towns ago. 

Hopper had warned you well in advance that there would be no complaining about room assignments whatsoever. You didn’t really care about all of that, the idea of a bed to spread out on was enough to satiate you. It would beat sleeping in the van, for sure. 

It had been close quarters for the entirety of the summer, losing stuff only to find it in someone else’s bag and vice versa. Which only made it all the more embarrassing when Eddie wound up with the vibrator you’d sworn you had shoved to the farthest depths of your duffle bag. He relinquished it back to you after a few well-deserved taunts.

Eddie pulls into the parking lot and you launch yourself from the van in search of the nearest restroom.

“Do you care who you bunk with?” He yells across the lot.

“Obviously not!”

After the most powerful piss of your life, hand to god, you enter the lobby to find Steve waiting with your bag. Sipping from a very familiar Ohio is for Lovers travel mug.

“Looks like it’s you and me Ace.”

Steve looks as dead as you feel as the pair of you trudge to your hotel room, too exhausted to even speak. Not unusual for the two of you, especially after hauling ass from the previous venue to get to the hotel. You graciously offer him the shower, having quickly done so before leaving the last venue, and all but collapse on the bed.

He’s mildly rejuvenated after that. His hair is damp when he returns, a few waves beginning to curl up, some strands obscuring his eyes; longer than you're accustomed to, but still boyish. A soft smile graces his lips as you roll on the bed to make room for him, “Hi,” he rasps, voice muted and low. 

“Happy early birthday,” You reply, eyes darting toward him on the corner of the bed as he fiddles with the strings of his low-slung sweats.

“Thanks.”

The silence between you stretches, has you itching for reprieve.

He falls at your side on the bed, hand easily finding yours. Steve turns to face you, then a kiss.

Softer than you’d expected, nearly featherlight against your lips. As if he’s unsure of how to proceed, tentative and guarded.

Late June 2004, somewhere in the Southwest

“I have ground rules y’know,” You pant out, hands scrambling for purchase against the wall behind you. Legs hitched around his waist, he nods blearily, one large hand splayed across your lower back. “Such as,” You continue as his tongue blazes a trail on your collarbones, “It stays secret, no one can know.”

He pauses at that, teeth grazing lightly against your skin. Hazel eyes flit up to you, curious. “Not even Rob,” You clarify, one hand moving to run through his hair. Placated, for now, he focuses his attention to the curve of your neck.

You swallow audibly, “This stays on tour.” A soft groan eeks out of him as your nails lightly scrape against his scalp. He tuts indignantly at that your newest decree and busies himself sucking a bruise to your neck. “Fuck–,” You bury a moan, and roll your hips against his seeking any friction you can get. “It’s–It’s over when tour wraps.”

Extricating himself from the hollow of your throat, he brushes his lips against yours and pops the button of your shorts. “That so?” He murmurs, lips ghosting across yours as you struggle to make heads or tails of the conversation. “Every tour, or just this one in particular?” He asks casually, tugging the fly down slowly.

You can feel your brain leaking from your ears. You follow his gaze down to your lap where he’s got a thumb lightly tracing the seam of your cunt. He smiles, amused, “Not so chatty now, hmm?”

Wiggling in his grasp, you leverage yourself against the brick wall behind you. Right, the rules… you struggle to find your thoughts. “No strings, no feelings,” You continue in a breathy tone. His fingers don’t let up, continuing their trajectory downward painting you with your slick. 

Your fingers tangle into his hair to pull him closer. His breath hitches as he pulls your panties to the side to spread you open with his fingers. “No sleepovers,” You manage to gasp out as he spreads your folds wider and lazily sweeps across your clit. 

He rolls his neck languidly and rests his forehead against yours, “Anything else?” His fingers continue their assault, your cunt sopping and oh so empty.

You shake your head once meeting his eyes, breath coming in quick gulps. He smiles, “Good,” his voice is husky and low when he cants his hips pushing you higher against the wall. His teeth find your ear giving it a tug, “Doing so well,” he whispers, “Getting nice and wet for me.” He makes sure you have your eyes on him.

Then pushes two fingers into your entrance.

“Fuck–” you manage to choke out. The stretch is delightful, your cunt clenching against him.

“That’s it honey, so fucking pretty,” he moans, setting a brutal pace. 

And you can feel the callouses against your walls as he fucks his fingers into you. He presses the palm of his hand against your clit and your vision tunnels. The sole ring he wears, warm from the friction and slick against your sex, prods at your entrance. You can’t help the wanton moan that falls from your mouth.

“God, you’re so wet,” he groans, “Think you can take one more?”

You whine loudly, wordlessly, and he doesn’t need to be told twice. 

He works a third finger in, impossibly, and drags his nose along your jawline. Grins with a muttered good girl and fucks you with his fingers. Your whole body quakes. “There it is,” He murmurs and pumps in and out of you at a relentless pace. Your hips begin to thrust, uselessly, against his hand, attempting to match his stoke.

Then he feels it. Your cunt pulses against his fingers and your muted cries turn desperate. Your legs tighten against his hips to pull him even closer–and then you shatter with a broken sob, walls clenching crudely around his fingers as you chase your high, slick trickling down his fingers as he helps you ride out your release.

You don’t know how long the pair of you stay like that, with you slumped against the wall, legs trembling in the aftershock. He remains steady all the while, anchoring you in the come down, fingers still buried deep inside you. Gently, he pulls his fingers from your cunt, and you groan when he pushes them between your lips, fixing you with a steady gaze while he makes you lick them clean.

He clears his throat, “I have some rules as well.” Your body ratchets up with tension, ruining your lazy recovery. You drag your tongue slowly along his index finger, urging him to continue. 

He lets out a shaky breath, “You’re too good at that,” He observes. You shrug casually in response. He steadies a hand above your shoulder, leaning against the wall. “Okay, first off, we need to figure out a system,” His eyes fall to your mouth, “Y’know, so Eds and Rob don’t get suspicious.”

He pulls his fingers from your mouth, satisfied with a job well done; you try not to preen at that. His thumb swipes against your bottom lip, full from your repeated biting and abuse. “Secondly, I’d like to kiss you stupid whenever I can.”

“Seems bit Pretty Woman to me,” You joke, earning a bark of laughter from him. “But if you say so–”

You don’t get to finish that sentence as he presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. You breathe out shakily from your nose, eyes fluttering closed. 

You had no idea Steve Harrington could kiss like this.

He breaks away from you, lingering against your lips. “And the last rule is,” He breathes out, “This thing, between us?” You nod slowly, “It’s exclusive–I don’t fuck anyone else and neither do you. Deal?”

You painfully run the calculations in your head, trying your damndest not to be distracted by the man in front of you. You say it aloud, for clarity’s sake, “So it will be a secret, no-strings, two-month long booty call, in which we’re not allowed to fuck other people or catch feelings?”

He nods in agreement, “Sounds about right.”

What could possibly go wrong? Everything, with absolute 100% certainty.

But what the hell.

“Okay deal,” You nod your assent coping a quick glance at your watch. “D’you want that blowjob now or later?”

He eyes the numbers on your wrist, “Considering we go on in about, an hour…” his hands squeeze the backs of your thighs as he lifts you from the wall and walks you to the couch. 

Dropping you unceremoniously on the cushions, he scrubs a hand through his hair. “I’m thinkin’ it’ll be later, right?”

You quirk a brow at him, “I’m trying not to be offended here, we have half and hour, at least, before they come looking for us.” You tug him down against the cushions fingers tracing against the crotch of his pants. He groans when you finally unzip the fly, “You thought I was good with my mouth before?”

He’s leaning back on his elbows, watching you as your hands come to his hips. He nods, dumbstruck, eyes following your every move. You pull down just enough to release his cock from its confines, wrapping your palm around him and giving a firm stroke. His head falls back against his shoulders as he gasps. You tell him, “Have to be quiet, yeah?”

He nods wordlessly, forehead wrinkled as if in deep concentration. He tucks his chin in to watch you and his jaw goes slack as you let his length sink into your mouth.

Steve groans low, fingers weaving into your hair as his ring catches on stray strands while you go as far down as you can, filling your mouth so completely full with his thick cock. 

It’s been a while since you’ve done this, the hinge of your jaw beginning to ache from the pressure. You love the sensation though; you can taste the soap from his shower, the sweetness clinging to your tongue and melding with bright tang of his precome. Having no time to spare, you forego any usual teasing in favor of working up a brisk rhythm.

Steve mumbles incoherently above you, broken moans and half-formed words between panting breaths burrow into your consciousness–that’s it, honey–so fucking good–look at me, look at me while you take my cock– One of your hands braces against his thigh as if flexes underneath your fingers as he twitches and jerks, your other hand fists what you can’t fit in your mouth.

When you do look up, he is so far gone that you moan around him causing a violent shudder to rattle his entire body. He thrusts forward without warning, which makes you choke as spit floods your mouth.

“Fuck–you’re gonna make me come,” he blurts out, head rolling back against the armrest with an audible thunk.

As you open your mouth a little bit wider he thrusts again–tears sting the corner of your eyes as he begins to fuck your mouth, experimentally at first. Finding no resistance, he rolls his hips deeper pushing his cock farther, harder, deeper causing you to whimper around him.

You can say for certain that no one has ever fucked your throat as thoroughly as Steve is right now. Your cunt clenches on nothing as he loses it, his hold on your hair bordering on painful, his body taut under your grasp.

Thankfully, this time comes with a warning when he chokes, the rhythm of his hips wavering. “I’m gonna come in your mouth if you don’t stop, honey.” You try to smile around him, but you can’t, his cock is so fucking big there simply isn’t any room. Instead, you reach down and firmly cup his heavy sac. 

His hips jerk, the head of his cock nearly hitting the back of your throat. With an broken growl, the heady taste of his come fills your mouth with each erratic thrust of his hips. You swallow thickly – once, twice – before he stills.

His grip in your hair finally lets up, and reaching down for your hands, he pulls you up on shaky knees, his lips crashing into your swollen ones, a moan caught deep in his throat. He licks into your mouth, desperate to taste himself. 

Then he pulls back and sighs, eyes soft on you as he wipes the glossy spit from your lips. You smile against his fingertips to say, “And that’s how its done.”

He throws his head back and laughs, loud and bright, in the otherwise quiet dressing room. “Love that smart fucking mouth,” he says tugging up his pants as you stand up to button your shorts. You hop in place, tugging the fabric back where it should be and set about searching for your phone.

After zipping his fly and scrubbing a hand through his hair, Steve faces you. “Is it completely obvious?”

His voice is low and gravelly, you shudder involuntarily. “That you’ve just had the soul sucked out of you?” You ask, leaning back in assessment. “Mm, yeah. But it’s hot, so.”

He pulls you in for another kiss, rough palms splayed against your lower back. 

Hands on his chest, you attempt to push him off, but he won’t let you, easily overpowering you. He traces the outline of your jaw with his nose until his breathing evens out, “Thanks,” He murmurs and you have to actively remind yourself to stay standing upright. “It was the outfit, wasn’t it?” He whispers, tone mischievous once more.

You turn from him with a laugh, “Oh yeah,” you toss over your shoulder adjusting your headset again, “Snapbacks, skinny jeans and muscle tanks really do it for me, Harrington. Total panty dropper.” You slip the phone into your back pocket. 

And when Eddie asks after the show why your voice sounded a bit raspier than usual, all you could do was laugh and shrug as Steve looked on smiling, cheeks tinged pink.

Since the agreement between you two had been struck, it was fast and fevered hookups in backrooms and the van during the scant times Eddie and Robin would leave you be. Certainly nothing in a bed, and definitely nothing as tender as Steve was being in this moment.

As if you would slip through his fingers before he could even get started, scared that he’d somehow spook you.

He presses you back against the sheets slowly, body warm and heady above your own— beads of water from his earlier shower trailing down the column of his neck. He apologizes when his teeth click against yours in a frantic kiss.

You pull away, dazed, brushing a lock of hair from his eyes. 

He’s so tired of the long road. Can’t stand another second of maneuvering in the dark down winding paths or broken streetlight avenues you’re not at the end of so he keeps his next phrase short: “I really like you.”

You raise your brow and brush the back of your knuckles over your lips, the light from the lamp streaming over your face. His hand tenderly brushes your cheek, the same one he touched all those months ago and you blink in surprise. Quick, calculating movements even as you lean gently into his touch.

“Took you long enough,” you mumble.

You place your hand over his chest, over his heart.

You kiss him, and Steve hears himself sighing into your mouth. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, but you’re not letting go, and he presses his lips to yours a little slower, a little firmer, learning the ways you like to feel him there.

He pulls back briefly, eyes taking you in, softly lit from the dim lamplight of the room. A shy smile and flash of bright teeth against the full of your lip. His eyes widen briefly, like he just realized something.

“Shit.”

“What?” You continue to card your fingers through his hair, lips grazing the skin of his neck as he spoke.

“Condoms.”

“Uh-huh,” Your warm lips smooth down the side of his neck to press kisses to his chest. He shudders in your hold, eyes slipping shut as you tongue the plane of his collarbone. 

“Forgot to get ‘em,” He manages to rasp out. “Slept through the last gas station stop.”

“Mmm.”

Finding purchase in the thick roots of his hair as he falls into the cradle of your neck, his mouth easily finding the underside of your jaw to sponge with kisses. 

“So we can’t—”

“I never said that.”

Steve stops, extricating himself from where he’d settled against your neck. “Um, what?” He blinks owlishly.

“Well,” You begin, nails scratching lightly against his scalp. “I'm on birth control, and we're both clean. So.”

He swallows audibly, “So I’d just like, pull out? I’ve never really…”

Your hands graze further up his chest to hold to the sides of his warm neck as you kiss him once more. You can feel his pulse racing, the knowledge that he’s not calm bringing a mischievous smile to your face.

“Yeah,” You shrug. “If you want, birthday boy.”

A strangled sound escapes from the cavern of his chest, something between a whine and a moan. Regardless, it’s definitely something you need to hear again. 

“Christ,” he chokes, flinching when your breath tickles him, forgetting about everything except the way his skin tingles for more. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Steve looks like he’s been ridden hard and put away wet. Odd, because nothing like that has happened yet. His brain feels broken to bits.

His hair’s sticking up in all sorts of places, fluffy chestnut locks disheveled. His chest, heaving, panting—lips dry, rosy across his cheeks and the tip of his nose. He stutters once, twice, at the sight of you before catching himself and asks with quiet reverence, 

“You’re sure?” He presses his forehead to yours.

“Positive.”

You start rolling your hips up against him, pants still on, and Steve yanks them down impatiently. He’s pushing your spine into the sheets, dick leaking precome through the gray fabric before something pivots in his frazzled mind.

You pull your hands down from his neck, over his strong chest and down his sides before wrapping them around his back to tuck your fingers into the band of his sweats.  

“Can I taste you first?” He asks quietly, you nod breath stuttering in your lungs when an errant lock of hair falls across his forehead.

He drops to his knees, gets his mouth on your thighs.

Two fingers brush down the line of your slit, warmth seeping inside your panties hotter and hotter with every stroke. Your body flexes, shuddering as he does it again. He’s never gone slow and he doesn’t know what’s possessed him this time, but he parts them, curls them on the outside of your lips, pinching your clit, and then his mouth is sucking at your sweet flavor through the fabric.

Steve carefully turns his head to get into a better position, pulling the lace to the side. He’s kissing syrup out of a honeycomb and you’re keening for more, pawing at your own tits, grinding back into his mouth. You’re desperate, he can hear it when you choke on the breathy first few letters of his name. Not used to being treated gently, and neither is he, but he’s discovering that he really likes the way you shake on his face.

He pays your squirming no mind, not even when you try to wiggle out of your remaining clothes, grab him by his hair and pull him off. Steve holds your hands, flicks his tongue even more.

“Mmm,” he slurs, drunk on the novelty of what feels like tenderness. “You taste good.”

Regular nights together know frantic touches and roughness. The beat of his palm on your bare ass, harmonies of grunts and howls muffled against his chest, the perfume of sweat crushed into heated skin. He even gets back to flirting with the kind of sex you’re used to—slapping your cunt wetly.

Two times is all it takes. Two vulgar hits and you’re crumbling as you come.

There’s a thin gloss of satisfaction covering your entire body when Steve pulls you into his lap tossing your underwear to the side, marveling at your glazed eyes so different from how they usually look when the two of you fuck. Limp legs rearrange themselves around his waist. You hiss when he slides two fingers inside.

You’re always wet, but he’s drenched down to his wrist. It’s good-new. It’s different-new—but could he get used to this? Could he? Was Eddie right? About not fucking your friends? His thoughts are backfiring, signals getting crossed just like he was warned—ah shit, what’s he gonna do about this?

“Oh,” you mewl, astonished, rocking gently with this guidance of his hands. You claw at his chest and back weakly, moaning, “Steve…” His name overruns out of your tipsy hot mouth, “Steve…” Again, and it makes his cock throb.

He moves carefully, taking a long look at you. He can make out most of your expression, gazing at him like a blooming flower, asking to be touched, to be felt, to be drank from. He’s scrambled the entire thing, tuned into a different frequency, a molten heat seeping from his chest, warming him everywhere.

“Baby,” you say, and he nearly loses it right then and there— synapses misfiring all over the place. “Stevie, baby,” and he’s rushing to fuck you—really fuck you. Get in deeper than he’s ever been with anyone, find the truth of it, the wet hot core of it, marvel at it like how he really wants.

He was wrong. Regular no-strings attached sex, regular rough sex, regular – anything. He’s been robbing himself of these pretty sounds and this side of you and this side of himself, too.

Being on the road allows little time for tenderness. It’s all muffled cries and fervent fucks. This is as close to bliss as he can get.

You cling to him like he’s the last tether to your world, gripping his skull, pushing him into your chest where he buries his face.

“Baby,” he tests its letters, and says it again. “Fuck,” he whispers before slanting his mouth over yours once more. His hand slipped between you, taking hold of his length to guide himself to your center.

He slows down, lashes fluttering, pulling you further into him until it’s indistinguishable where either of you end, aching and pulsing.

Your walls clench just from the contact of his skin on yours, his mouth breaking from yours haphazardly so he could look down. You admire the way he intently watched his cock glide through your wet folds, tingles coursing across your skin as his flushed head brushed your clit - once, twice, three times. You couldn’t keep your hips still, circling and arching towards him, following his every movement. And when he dipped forward, fucking into your wet heat with no resistance, your mouth fell open in a silent moan.

“Ah, shit,” he practically hisses, pushing into you in one full thrust until his pelvis met yours. He stilled deep inside you, trying to hold back a moan as he bit into his bottom lip. “Ohmygod, I-” he licks his overly pink lips as he looks up at you, wild eyes flicking across your features while his brows crinkled in pleasure. “Goddamn,” he breathes.

“Fuck, you feel good,” you mutter, voice dripping in want and sluggish as his hips pull away from yours again before leveling out and holding it. 

“Let me come in you,” he whispers, “Can I?” He’s never done it before, never thought that much about it really, and the way he asks makes you whimper. “I want to,” he says again, “Want to come in you. Wanna give it to you.”

You only nod, touching your forehead to his tenderly, overwhelmed by how much you need it— need him. He slips his tongue between your teeth, kisses you long, losing his edges when he bursts apart in your arms.

He lays you both down on the crumpled blanket, reaching for each other in the aftermath, breathing slow and deep. He’s sticky with all sorts of fluids, that tangy heady smell hovering like fog.

“That was…” you trail off, turning your head toward him.

“Yeah.”

A turn to check the time, red numerals shining from the bedside table, 2:47 AM.

“Happy birthday Steve Harrington,” you nuzzle into the crook of his neck, lips curled into a smile. 

His arm wraps around you, hand falling to the dip of your low back and pulling you closer. Your eyes fall close, lashes fluttering against his skin.

When God made you, he must have wanted it to hurt.

Looking at you for too long, Steve figures, is like moon-gazing through a high-powered telescope. You don’t expect it to be painful when the light hits your eye because you forget how much light there actually is. 

He brushes away the damp hair that has stuck to your cheeks and forehead, wipes your brow, and presses his lips to you, tasting musk and sweat.

He does it again, another kiss to your forehead, and again, leaving his own mark, impacts of softness, and love, and everything he needed and couldn’t receive for so long.

Steve could spend the rest of his life kissing you, and knows that he wouldn’t be satisfied— it would never be enough. Twisted heartache and sublime, it's you he can't deny.

[the-city-kitty]

Crap I really do treat my blorbos like paper dolls. Like, NIY!Leo is gonna have outfits out the wazzoo, that’s a given for the genre I made him live in. Mans has got the fuckin closet from Princess Diaries 2. But there was no reason for me to make mute!Leo change his look in some form every time something stressful happens to him but it’s still what happened (this would probably be more effective if I actually like… drew these versions of Leo but like,,,, I don’t have time rn okay I’ll do it eventually just take my word for it that they are dressed)

[los-ninos-tortugas]

Going back home this weekend and I’m gonna reclaim The Binder™️ thank goodness because a) now I’ll have a convenient place to write notes/drafts again and b) being without it has of course infected me with the need to Look at all the information I have stored in there and finally elaborate on all those WIPs in my pinned post that say “more info later” and finally post the goddamn info and link it all so it’s all nice and neat.

On an unrelated note my brother is mailing me a triceratops squashmallow and I am going to name him Traximus 💛

[fruitcoops]

Slowburn

Fic O'Ween Day 12: Goosebumps, with part five of the firefighter/ EMT AU! Coops, Leo, and Layla belong to @lumosinlove, fest header belong to @noots-fic-fests!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

TW extremely brief mention of bodily fluids (one sentence at the beginning)

Five hours and forty-four minutes. He had been bled on, puked on, grabbed, yelled at, and nearly toppled. His only spare pair of pants was now bound up in a plastic bag. Miracle of miracles, Sirius’ shirt was the only thing that hadn’t been damaged in the miserable afternoon. It made a great undershirt. It would also need to be washed at least four times before he could even dream of returning it.

Layla stared at a spot above his shoulder in the opposite jumpseat. One side of her eyeliner had been completely smudged away; the other, smeared sideways to her temple in a smoky trail.

“Nice job today.”

“Thanks.”

“That was a lot.” Layla nodded mutely. His heart pulled for her, a little bit. Even if their cases had been run-of-the-mill, nearly six hours of back-to-back calls would wear anyone down. He nudged the tip of her shoe with his own. “You’re learning fast. I saw some good work out there.”

“I’m…” She blinked slowly, then shook her head. “Wow, I think I fell asleep sitting up for a minute.”

“It happens.” In time, she’d learn to sleep wherever she could catch it. “When does your shift end?”

“Seven.”

“Almost done, then.”

“Mmm.”

The ambulance went over a bump, rattling the near-empty shelves and bashing Remus’ tailbone against the back ledge. “Sorry!” Leo called through the small window to the cab.

He had mostly given up hope that he’d see Sirius in the next twelve hours. His shift wasn’t over until midnight, and Sirius’ started at six the next morning. If he made time between his dentist appointment and calling his parents, he might be able to stop by in the afternoon, but it would be a stretch if he wanted to get any laundry done. And, Christ, that was a chore he couldn’t delay for another week. He liked those pants. More importantly, he now knew just how much Sirius liked them.

Something stirred in his belly at the thought. Warm hands cupping his ass and sliding over his flanks with astonishing care. Sirius had felt him up enough that he could probably make a Model Magic version of Remus’ body on touch alone—and wasn’t that a thing to picture. Somewhere between rounds two and three, Remus remembered kissing the backs of Sirius’ thighs. Pale skin and dark hair above the bare, sensitive bend of his knees. They slotted so well in his palms. Sirius had looked like glory itself when he peeked over his shoulder to look.

“What’re you thinking about?”

Remus jumped. “What? Nothing. Sorry, nothing, why?”

“You’re all frowny.”

Thank god for that. “Just…the day.”

A vague and reliable excuse. Layla snorted. “Tell me about it.”

There will never be a day when I tell you about this. Remus hoped his laugh didn’t come out too strained. “Seriously.”

They took the next turn a little wider, sending their final two ointment boxes sliding out of place. He fixed them blindly while the city center rolled past through the back windows. Did Sirius still have scratch marks on his upper thighs?

Another bump knocked the thought from his head. “We’re home,” Leo singsonged from the driver’s seat. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in the showers, wondering why I chose this life path.”

“Mood,” Layla mumbled.

“I’m also Grubhubbing a sundae, and you can’t stop me.”

One of the last functioning neurons in Remus’ head lit up. “Get me one.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Get your own.”

“I’m your boss.”

“You make more money than me.”

“Yes, let me flaunt my extra fifty cents an hour,” he countered dryly. “Every night, I rub my quarters together, just to flex on you. That beautiful sound of a handful of nickels.”

“…I’ll see what they have.”

“Good rookie.”

He didn’t wait for the ambulance to stop before opening the doors. The familiar ka-chunk of the lock coming free was music to his ears—a sweet, sweet anthem of freedom, the promise of a lukewarm cup of coffee and a maybe-stale donut from the break room.

And Sirius.

Sirius, sitting on one of his packed and labeled inventory bins.

Remus stared.

“Remus?”

“Go ahead,” he said absently. “I’ll catch up.”

Layla hopped out with a groan. Six hours was a long time to be up and down. Remus was sure his feet would ache the same when he stood. If he stood. Sirius’ hair stuck up at the back, like he’d been running his hands through it.

Remus loved when he did that.

He just. He really did like him, quite a lot.

Keep me.

What had he been thinking? Six hours was a long time to wait. He had told Sirius he’d be right back. It was his day off; why hadn’t he left after it was clear Remus wouldn’t return?

He supposed he could ask the same question about that morning. God, could it really only have been a few hours since he felt Sirius’ bare chest against his own? They had practically been spooning with how tight they were tangled in each other when he woke. Remus hardly remembered falling asleep, only aware of the pleasant ache in his muscles and the humming pleasure in his belly. Pure satisfaction. Pure comfort, at having Sirius hold him like more than a friend.

He watched Leo wander off. Sirius didn’t seem to have noticed. He didn’t so much as flinch when Remus stumbled off the rig and beelined for him, not until Remus stopped in front of him, unsure what to say. I want you I like you I’m sorry please kiss me again, I still get goosebumps thinking about the way your mouth tastes with adrenaline.

Sirius blinked up at him, full lips and glossy lashes. His bone structure was fucking criminal. “You’re back,” he said, so soft and sweet and genuinely happy that Remus’ stomach flopped over itself. Sirius stood, tucking his phone into his pocket without a second glance at it. He was just—big. And tall. And gorgeous. Remus now knew precisely how solid his chest was, and how nice it was to kiss. “Did you have a good day?”

Remus stepped forward and planted his face directly into that chest.

“Oh,” Sirius laughed. It vibrated against his forehead; he closed his eyes. Arms came up around him, hands settling at his nape and the small of his back. He knew he smelled awful. Sirius didn’t seem to care as a tentative kiss nestled on the top of his head and melted Remus’ insides out his throbbing feet.

He sighed. Sirius smelled all warm and spicy. Detergent, cologne, or simply the way he was? Remus couldn’t wait to find out. “This is nice.”

“Yeah.” The delight was back. Sirius pushed the breath from his lungs on a squeeze. “Yeah, it is. I like this.”

“I’m gonna kiss you,” Remus mumbled. “Gonna kiss you so good. Just…two seconds.”

“You can kiss me whenever you want.”

“Two seconds.” It was so dark in his new haven. Sirius’ lungs moved calmly, steadily. His heart rate was a little fast, but nothing to worry about. Remus let his ears go foggy and pressed closer, nuzzling into the space between his collarbones.

Sirius kissed the top of his head again, less hesitant this time, before resting his chin there. “Long day?” he asked after several seconds. Remus hummed. “Sounded like you guys didn’t get much of a break.”

“Mhmm.” He turned his head to the side and rubbed his cheek over Sirius’ sternum. He couldn’t count the number of times they had sat together on the couch or at the table or in the window seat, legs intertwined while they worked through their days. Separate snacks at first, then a single bowl to share once they knew each other’s favorites. It had been nice, to have someone there. Someone to talk to, someone to listen, someone who understood.

But this…this was so much better.

Sirius’ thumb stroked a short path along his spine. It zinged all the way into the base of Remus’ skull. “I sweated through your shirt,” he muttered, pushing his head further beneath Sirius’ chin. “After I stole it from you by accident. Sorry. I’ll wash it.”

He felt Sirius’ smile on his temple. “Keep it. Looks better on you.”

“Think I left mine at your place.”

“Guess you’ll just have to come back and get it,” Sirius whispered playfully. Remus couldn’t help a grin, raising his head despite the pounding drowsiness behind his eye—he had barely opened his mouth to retort when there were lips brushing his own, a wordless request. He granted it easily.

This was different than the rushed promise on the ambulance. Different than last night’s smoky, need-fueled passion. He let Sirius lead, tender and questioning, then pushed into it a little more. Have it, he tried to say. Take it all, it’s been yours for a while. The words may not work, but he was willing to bet Sirius would understand anyway. His lower lip was chapped on one side when Remus ran his tongue along the seam, giddy and dizzy with the kiss-buzz of chasteness.

“Hmm.”

That was good. It was all good, if Sirius would keep making noises like that. He brought his hands up to rest on narrow hips (marked with a tiny scar just above his thigh, which Remus was so fucking glad he knew now) and gave a little more, pushed a little harder. Sirius’ hand cupped his jaw and the right side of Remus’ brain powered down.

“Hm—wait, wait.”

His attempt to lick forward into Sirius’ mouth was stymied by sudden distance between them. Not far—he could still pick out each fleck of quicksilver in Sirius’ unfocused eyes—but far enough to be frustrating for the part of him that was enjoying turning his thoughts off. Remus went up on his toes for more, but Sirius pulled away. “What?” he whispered, though they were alone. “Did you—are you mad at me?”

“No,” Sirius said hurriedly. His hands soothed down Remus’ sides in a long drag that sent tingles through each cell. “God, no, I’m trying to—” His cheeks went a touch pink as he glanced around them and coughed lightly. “Uh, I’m trying to calm down.”

“Oh. Oh.”

Remus hadn’t even thought about that. He was pretty sure he was too tired for his body to consider arousal, aside from the inevitable spike of desire for a soft place to land for two to eight hours. Sirius’ mouth was so nice, his body so warm, that it was all too tempting to get lost in it.

Sirius’ tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. Well. Remus supposed he might be able to feel something other than pure exhaustion, if he tried. “What time do you get off?”

“Whenever you want me to,” Remus answered immediately, then felt himself redden at the arch of Sirius’ brows. “Fuck—sorry. Midnight. My shift’s done at midnight.”

The fingertips on his back had become an extraordinary distraction. Sirius looked almost shy, so at odds with the animated boy he knew against this backdrop that Remus wanted to memorize every inch of it. “Can I…” Sirius began, then trailed off as his blush darkened. His thumbs hooked around Remus’ hipbones and paused there, lingering on bare skin. “Can I maybe take you to dinner? Or a diner?”

“At midnight?”

“I know a couple places.”

Remus frowned. “You have work tomorrow.”

Sirius gave a sheepish half-shrug. “We could nap together. Today, I mean. If you want.”

“I smell horrible.”

“You smell fine.”

“I’m soaked in dry sweat.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I—” That was it for excuses. That was all he had. Every defense against Sirius was dust in the wind. He smiled, and stood on his toes again to kiss one scruffy cheek. “Yeah, sounds good. Let me wash my face and grab some water. I’ll meet you in the bunks.”

Sirius’ eyes crinkled, and Remus fell for him all over again. “I’ll be waiting.”

[zelgadis55]

Chapters: 49/? Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012) Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Characters: Michelangelo (TMNT), Mikey, Dogpound, Chris Bradford, Hamato Yoshi | Splinter, Leonardo (TMNT), Leo, Donatello (TMNT), Donnie, Raphael (TMNT), Raph, April O'Neil (TMNT) Additional Tags: Mikey is captured, Bradford wants revenge, and Shredder allows it, pet trope, Abuse, Rape/Non-con Elements, Violence, not graphic, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Hurt Michelangelo (TMNT), Michelangelo (TMNT)-centric, Turtles, TMNT, Mind Manipulation, Cruelty, time spent in, Japan, New York, at sea, the Farm, Recovery, Brothers, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Good Brother Donatello, Michelangelo Has a Bad Time (TMNT) Series: Part 1 of Pet Turtle Summary:

Bradford has always blamed Michelangelo for his misfortunes and especially for his mutation so when he manages to capture the young ninja, he's going to make sure he knows exactly what it's like. 2k12 AU.

Warning: Warnings for physical and mental torture in this story abound, as well as for implied and highly disturbing situations. Trigger warnings may apply for some chapters. There will not, however, be gruesome details. Some things are best left up to the imagination.

               How Much is that Turtle in the Window                                                     ch 49

"Mikey, I have to be honest, even with real help, it's unlikely that your hands will ever be what they were. Even Dr. Aziz agrees that with how old the injury is and how it was never treated, you'll never have the same strength and dexterity in your hands that you used to have. Without seeing x-rays of them, he can't be sure how bad it is but if you agree to let him help, I'll take scans of them in the morning and get them to him asap so he can study them. However, from my description, he thinks he should be able to get at least a fifty percent improvement, if not more and even if worst comes to worst, don't you think even a fifty percent improvement would be a huge difference?"

Mikey blinked up at Donnie uncertainly.

"Put it this way, bud, getting your hands fixed by a professional who knows what they are doing is about your quality of life. We're only sixteen, Mikey, with many decades of life ahead of us. Don't you think facing your fear of humans for a few hours is worth getting real use of your hands back when compared with living the rest of your life with them almost useless? Especially when something can be done to improve things?"

Mikey swallowed nervously, wincing slightly at the lingering sharp pain in his throat. When put like that, he could see his brother's point but dammit! Why did Donnie have to make so much sense when all he wanted was to run and hide and never see another human, besides April and her father (and maybe Murakami-san) ever again?

It wasn't fair! Being asked to do this after everything he'd been through in the last year.

But he wanted to have his hands back just as much if not more than his voice. He wanted to be able to paint and draw again. He wanted to be able to cook and play games again. … He wanted to be able to hold his nunchucks and do things on his own again without needing someone to help him... His eyes flickered briefly back to Donnie as he remembered he still needed to tell him about his voice but he couldn't do it right now, he realised as his mind flashed back to that first time on the operating table as she drugged him, fitted him with that horse harness thing and winched his jaw wide open enough that it ached all so she could stick a huge needle down his throat and paralyse his voice.

And then there were his brothers. He'd been learning to do so much for himself again but it would never be enough. They would always have to help him for the rest of his life if he didn't let them get him the help he needed and he couldn't do that to them.

He didn't want to get anywhere near April's uncle for as long as he lived but... Donnie was right. He needed this.

He needed him... a human... He shuddered.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24382507/chapters/147471661   or  https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13593827/49/How-Much-is-that-Turtle-in-the-Window 

[bambiraptorx]

[I.D. Two page digital comic done mostly in shades of purple. In the first panel, Minor Interference Donnie walks through a crowd, looking around curiously. He has a mute symbol on the base of his goggles. In the crowd behind him are, from left to right, one of the Teenage Mutant Warrior Cats, Mikey from TMNT Reptile Rampage, Is This Right Donnie holding a bottle of jello, Red Rover Donnie, and Beetle Leo. In the second panel Minor Interference Donnie is shown from behind, smiling widely as he looks at Sidelined Leo in his wheelchair. Sidelined Raph and Mikey are there too, smiling as they talk with their brother. Scattered around as cameos are Massive Forehead Donnie, TMNT Spiderlily Donnie, The Little Prince Donnie, De-mutation Donnie, Techna from Mitosis, and Void Mikey. In the second panel, Minor Interference Donnie stands next to Sidelined Leo, sparkles in his eyes as he holds his hands up to his chest. Donnie says "Oh your wheelchair is so cool!!! Can I ask questions?" Leo looks up at him with a slight smile. Instead of purple, he is colored in blue. His wheelchair is a cross between a manual and an electric, with the Genius Built logo on the hubcap area of the wheels. End I.D.]

@dandylovesturtles I thought it would be fun to draw a crossover between Sidelined AU and Minor Interference. MI Donnie is deaf/hard of hearing (he has hearing aids built into his goggles), and he would love seeing other forms of adaptive technology.

@tmntaucompetition

[happyk44]

Mute!Piper AU where leo and piper still be committing little crimes really be like "just remember, if we get caught, you're deaf and I don't speak english"