tmntxthings

[tmntxthings]

To answer “fandom/s I write for” that would be Rottmnt, tmnt 2k12, and (a good long while ago) The Hobbit

B-I-N-G-OOOOO!!!! twice 🥰 this was fun!!

Does anyone remember an app called Polyvore? It got bought by this clothing company that completely transformed the app but before that happened they had this huge roleplay community 😪 good times!

tagging ❤️✨ @marwhoa @navithescribe @regretisstoredintheme

Tagging down here: @tmntxthings @morning-sun-brah @buthowboutno

Template down below for anyone else who wants to fill it in!

[tmntxthings]

Will there be a part 2 to Loser??? I HAVE to know!! T_T Your writing is incredible, thank you for gracing Tumblr with your presence byeeee

No probably not!! And thank you for your kind words <3

[tmntxthings]

😚💋

THE TITLE— ACK—

😭💃🎤 “HOLD ME CONSOLE ME AND THEN I LEAVE WITHOUT A TRACEEEEE”

Writing Request: Kenkey Songfic 🧡

Now @tmntxthings requested that I sonically bathe in No One Noticed by The Marias and write about whatever I came up with, but she also told me to listen to it earlier this week and said it reminded her of Kendra so I was totally swayed! 😤

Totally takes place in the AENEM universe 🤭 sorry not sorry 💞

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

A little forlorn all ages below the cut:

Kendra laid on her mattress with her cheek smashed into her month old sheets. There was debris of crumbs that sometimes ghosted of her skin, but she had slept in far worse. it was better than scratchy prison blankets, but that wasn't what was making her skin crawl.

She was staring at her text chat with Mikey.

His last message was dated six days ago.

Her responses had never been super prompt, but she had gotten back to him within a few minutes that day.

It was innocuous.

He asked if she would watch a video.

She asked him why he hadn't sent the link.

Then nothing.

She left her screen on as she rolled over.

Her stupid stained ceiling stared back at her.

What was his problem?

For months he had been nothing but interested.

He was obsessed with anything.

Or maybe she just told herself that.

Maybe she had lost her mind.

Was she really laying her missing him of all people?

Why?

There was no reason.

He had just crashed into her life and looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

Her cheeks were hot because her pillow was substantial.

Blood was pooling.

She rolled the other way from her phone so they would cool.

The shift rolled within folds of her sheets and revealed those dead skin particles.

What was shed and schlep off.

The pieces that easily fell away with time.

Isn't that what they had done?

He'd gotten his fill.

He'd held her and that was it.

Those bits of his interest wilted and were shed like anything else.

It wasn't like she'd been excited to see him.

She hadn't gone out of her way.

It had been a plan.

Pretend to chase him.

Get close enough to gain access to her home.

It was never about him.

It was about his connection.

Like that scent of wooden paintbrushes and a hint of vanilla that always clung to him.

She fought her pillow by punching it straight off the bed.

She had lost it.

Thinking about this.

Thinking about him.

The way he held her.

The way he both paid attention and didn't.

He knew arm's length like no one else.

Only him.

That truth collapsed her chest and she had to sit up.

Her room was dark as it had been for hours.

Her eyes had adjusted just enough that she saw the shapes.

The end of her bed.

The rack for her clean clothes.

A pile for the dirty.

Her shitty router in one corner.

Empty.

That was the feeling.

Emptiness and a hollow that she hadn't know before.

She pushed against his ribs to try to keep them together.

It had never been a problem before.

She had spent her life like this.

All the years that shaped her memory.

She went at this life alone.

She wasn't going to let some orange idiot slip between the cracks of that.

Not when he could leave without a trace.

Her eyes widened.

In all her time trying to make enough of a connection that she could get what she wanted from him, she never realized how far he had kept himself from her.

He barely talked about his family.

She didn't know where he lived.

She had his number and nothing else.

In an instant, everything she wished that wasn't true came to fruition.

He'd made her aware of her loneliness and then left her to stew in it.

It had been so easy for him.

She couldn't be here anymore.

Not when he knew where it was.

She could get away.

She could start again.

it wouldn't be the first time.

It was with her last shreds of control that she found her old purple stain jacket and put it on, one arm at a time.

It fit.

She looked right at her door, not back, and moved to grab the knob.

It opened to moonlight and the shape of a man similarly reaching out.

It took her tired eyes time to adjust.

To Mikey and his casts.

One on his leg and one on his arm.

The bandages around his head.

They way he broke out into a smile.

"You heading out?" He asked almost timid.

He never was.

"It's been... It's been awhile..." He huffed with some effort.

Injured.

"My phone kind of..." He gestured over himself with the wrapped arm in a sling and winced for it.

He noticed.

"I've been trying to see you, but I was only cleared for tomorrow, well, today, and it's midnight so... today!"

She surged forward with only the intention to take.

Into his one good arm.

To hold.

To console.

She guessed she was sort of over waiting.

That was why she had been about to leave and he squeezed her in place because he knew.

[tmntxthings]

1. Dog Days Are Over by Florence + the Machine

2. Her Diamonds by Rob Thomas

3. Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan

4. Fooled Around and Fell in Love by Elvin Bishop

5. Knights of Cydonia by Muse

6. Amore mio aiutami by Piero Piccioni

7. On & On by Cartoon & Jéja

8. Bennie and the Jets by Elton John

9. BATTLE OF THE LARYNX by Melanie Martinez

10. Break Free by Ariana Grande

I always like to listen to new music, this was fun 🥰 @marwhoa wanna join in?

I like a tag game where I can choose to start it again and not just reblog an enormous thread. I always feel bad when it's long. Thanks @bewbberrytarts for the tag

Music Game!

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist and post the first 10 songs, then tag 10 friends to do the same

CVNT by Sophie Hunter

Proud Mary by Creedence Clearwater Revival

two by bbno$

Over & Over by Rio Romeo

Messy by Lola Young

drinks or coffee by ROSÉ

Go by The Black Keys

Abbey by Mitski

Night Shift by Lucy Dacus

Blush by Wolf Alice

Wait don't you have to have Spotify for this...? I don't know who has Spotify... I guess if you have it @unknownfanartist @tmntxthings @mermmarie

[tmntxthings]

。・゜・*･゜ﾟ･*･*:*･゜ﾟ･*・゜・。

author’s notes: something short & sweet for the new year, also I’d like to express my gratitude this year to all my mutuals, to my love of tmnt, it has brought me here and I thoroughly enjoy the art & fics you all share, cheers to another year full of turtle lovin’

warnings: fluff, unedited, drabble (super short), aged-up characters, new years theme

—————————————————————————

It was always crowded this time of year at Times Square. But the sheer amount of people flocking the streets always put Leo on edge. As a teenager this was a prime moment to use to his advantage. Get lost in the crowd. People aren’t paying attention to the strangers around them. Their eyes are focused on the screen. On the count down. On the huge sphere in the sky.

But he had grown a lot since then. Even a good disguise couldn’t cover up the fact that he was over six feet tall. Now that, would draw eyes no matter where he went. So he kept to his territory, the rooftops, the many perches one could find themselves on with the multitude of advertisements.

It was always interesting to see humans this far up. But tonight was special. They’d thrown confetti, and it would dance through the wind. Donnie used to stick up his snout, calling it trash, a waste. It seemed to be at least a million pieces of colorful paper. Litter to Dee, but to Leo, it was different.

He could see why people made their way to this spot. It was a sight to behold. It encapsulated the year, highlighted the moment for the one to come. He never missed New Years in New York. No matter how many times he’d seen the ball drop before. Sometimes the wind would carry the confetti so high that he could reach it. When he was feeling really sentimental he stuffed his pockets with a few coordinated colors that surely someone could guess.

When the count down started, he watched as the humans got ready. They surrounded Time Square on rooftops, with boxes full of confetti, bundled up for the cold and ready to make their first tosses.

Five! Four! Three! Two! One!!

Cheers erupted and fireworks lit the sky. That was signal enough for the workers to start, throwing handfuls of confetti. It rained down onto the crowd. Couples were kissing. Friends and family were hugging. Everything was just, perfect.

“Do you wanna throw some?”

The voice startled his revelry. He met eyes that sparkled, with a hand outstretched bursting with color. He waited. You did too.

He tilted his head. So did you. Then he realized this wasn’t some dream and you were real, alive, talking to him, all the way up in his territory asking if he wanted to partake in the tradition. In littering he guessed Donnie would snark. But Leo wanted to. So he dropped down from his spot, landing next to you.

You didn’t flinch. You waited for his palm to open, and dumped the paper in his hand. Wisps escaped from the exchange but Leo was quick to toss and you were ready with more to give. You smiled. And so did he. He wondered absentmindedly if you knew him? Had he saved you before? New York knew of their vigilante heroes whether they publicly supported them or not.

You took in his appearance as if he was a long time friend. Your presence was one that brought Leo comfort. And he went through the entire box without pausing. When that was over he thought you’d maybe thank him, or bid him farewell, but instead you hopped up on the edge of the rooftop. Instincts gave way and Leo’s hand was already reaching out to catch you if you slipped. But you sat down, legs dangling off the edge as of the drop wouldn’t be one to kill you.

You then patted the spot next to you for him to join. To watch the flurries of color float through the air and make their way down. He sat next to you. You told him about your year, the highs, the lows. You asked about his. You talked about what you hoped this new year would bring, your goals, the future. You asked about his plans.

He smiled, because he always had many of those. It was effortless with you, and that was strange in itself. To be sitting here with a stranger, a human, talking as if he was just another person. And maybe he was. Maybe in this moment. It was nice. You handed him a blue piece of confetti, and he pocketed it.

[tmntxthings]

He had never heard the words from you before. Nothing ever so vulnerable. Never so direct. And technically he couldn’t say that he actually heard the words from your lips, but he could imagine it from the text.

i’d really like it if you came over

He read it over and over. Words went unsaid. But he knew what you meant. You missed him. His heart thudded. It took seconds for him to portal your way. Someone regular, someone ordinary would have to get on a plane. But lucky for you…for him.. he could do this instead. His knuckles drummed against your bedroom door which was already slightly ajar.

It was dark inside, save for the dim light that shined from your phone. Your face glowing as those pretty eyes of yours met his. A soft smile lighting up your face as you tossed the phone aside and your arms opened. He dropped the swords in a clatter to the floor. He was in your bed, in your arms.

Why wasn’t it always this easy? All you had to do was call him, text him, and sure, he wasn’t always twiddling his thumbs on his phone. Yeah he could get busy with life and saving the city. Patrolling or sparring, even just ignoring the world and going off grid could be considered a sort of obstacle. Something that didn’t exactly make things easy.

Your hands wrapped around him. One going up, petting the back of his head, down to his shell where you gave little scratches. He couldn’t help the noise that steadily grew in the back of his throat. He could forget about everything else. He didn’t need to think so hard. His own hands went down, to your sides, not letting go.

He didn’t feel so lonely now. But for Leo, it was easy to not only come, but go. After you talked about your day, all the trivial things that had happened. After you caught up with what he had been doing with his time since so much had passed between the last visit. Neither of you noticed that when you were with one another. It was as if time became nuisance. You were still the same. And so was he.

After you drifted off to sleep. Once your breathing was even and deep, he pulled himself away. Picked up his swords, and left without a trace.

—————————————————————————

[tmntxthings]

Hey Grace!! Just wanna say happy new year, love your stuff a lot <3

hi anon c: happy new year to you too!!! & thank you for the kind words!! <3333

[tmntxthings]

THE ART IS BLOWING MY MIND 😍!!! Stunning!!!

Attempted Execute of Non-Executable Memory - Chapter 7

RotTMNT Michelangelo x Kendra

I have always been in awe of @pegibruno 's art and it was such an honor to gave them do the titular chapter art for this series!

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings/Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Revenge, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Dating, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Love Confessions, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Step-Parents, Neglect, First Kiss, First Generation Immigrant Kids, Acculturation, Loss/Removal of Cultural Identity, Incarceration, Prison Time, I flesh Out Kendra’s Character, Character Exploration, Character Study, I Give Kendra a Backstory

Synopsis: After hitting the lowest of lows, Kendra has carved out a simple life for herself. She’s content enough to live this way until opportunity walks through her place of employment in the form of an orange turtle mutant. She just needs to get close enough to him to plant a virus in his infuriating brother’s servers, but will she be infected long the way?

Also available on Ao3

First 🧡 Previous

“I’m going to your apartment!” Mikey danced through what was very much not her front door and continued to sing.  “I’m going to your apartment!”

“Not if you keep that up.” Kendra breezed by him into the store.

Mikey lowered the volume, but continued to sing the phrase.

She picked up and stuck him with a basket. 

He took it like a prop and she mistakenly made eye contact with the shop’s attendant.

The cashier at the desk looked up against her long lashes. “Been wondering when you’d be back.”

“Shut up.” Kendra strode down the familiar aisles to the one she needed.

The woman’s laughter chased her.

Mikey was first caught looking back at the employee and then at all the colorful packaging. “She seems nice.”

“Oh, yeah. So nice.” Kendra growled out. “So easy to upkeep a rainbow Mohawk when your uncle owns the store and you get shit for free!!”

Mikey looked up the fluorescent lights and waited to see if the lob would land.

There was obvious grumbling from across the store.

“Always someone.” Kendra glared at the shelves of dye.

She shouldn’t be here yet.

She needed to get everything else first. “This way.”

“You do get judged a lot.” Mikey followed.

“Thanks.” She retorted bitterly as she got to the developers.

She tossed a bottle into the basket.

“Like more than me.” He went on.

“That was code for ‘knock it off.’ I’m not in the mood.” She hissed as she passed him.

“I wonder why.” He went on regardless.

She ignored him and went over a mental tally of what she had at home. Most of her stuff had definitely expired which had prompted this impromptu trip to the beauty shop she frequented. Her mixing bowl and brushes were still usable. She had a plethora of ratty towels and all the clips necessary. She could get by on what bleaching products she had so it was just developer and hair dye that was missing.

He caught her eye and turned to her openly. “Like your vibe is not inviting it, so why does it happen?”

“Don’t know. Always has.” She stunted out as he continued to be endlessly stubborn.

“Is it the hair?” He wondered.

“Mikey.” She tried to put a finality in her tone.

“I know. I hear ya. I just…” He shook his head.

“Look, I don’t know and you sure as hell don’t. If I find out, maybe I’ll tell you.”

He softened a little. “I’ll take it.”

“You sure you can spot check this?” She let her doubts leak to cover up his gooey expression.

“Yup! Been there, done that on my own! Nearly burned all the hair off of my head.” He tossed his locks.

They were well maintained to her eye.

He came up into a salute. “You were clear: I’m here to watch and nothing else. I will point and maybe help out only if there’s a spot you can’t reach.”

“Easy, solider.” She pushed his plastron gently.

“Sir, yes, sir!” He tossed his arm out in an act, but smacked a shelf.

He caught all the items before they hit the floor and juggled them in his arms as he failed to get them back to their places.

She stepped in to help him. “You’re a mess. I should have asked someone else.”

She had no one else.

She hadn’t had anyone else in years.

She could have done it alone, but there had been mistakes.

Spots.

This was the first time in a long while that she could do this and save money by doing it herself. It wasn’t like her family friends supported her color. She’d been shelling out way too much on doing this at a salon. It always felt like an annoying waste when she knew how. She’d been doing it since she had virgin hair.

That time she permanently stained Deborah Ricci’s tacky yellow bathtub.

The woman had been forced to redesign her whole gaudy color scheme.

Jase had spotted her back then until she had gotten Jeremy into it. They had dying parties. There was hair management. They used to mask on weekends and watch movies. They weren’t good times; they were simply times.

Of the past.

Kendra moved to her section of purples.

Her exact shade wasn’t in stock, so she evaluated for the next closest.

She didn’t care as long as it pretty much read what she wanted it to.

She was here.

She was saving money.

Mikey was useful because he could catch those annoying spots.

She had cleaned up her apartment for this.

One payment for another.

The stupid balancing act.

“You know art or whatever, right?” Kendra asked without looking.

His voice closed in. “Yup! That was my other credential.”  

“Which do you think between these? I like this brand.” She held up two similar shades of purple for him.

He hummed loudly and clearly was juggling two boxes of his own.

One orange.

One cyan.

She stared a little too obviously at one box. “What are those?”

“Huh?” He looked like he had forgotten he was holding anything.

He laughed.

He held the orange up beside his face. “What do you think? This is so my color, right?”

His lashes fluttered.

He squished closer to the box that matched his mask.

“Yeah, sure.” She stepped forward with the purple boxes out like a plea. “What’s that one?”

Her eyes hadn’t moved.

Mikey followed her gaze and lit up.

“Oh, this one’s yours!” He offered it.

“No.” Her eyes followed. “It’s not.” 

He stared. “Uh… Yeah, it is.”

“No.” She shook the boxes with purple hair dye. “This is. I’m asking you which one.”

“Oh, yeah. I was thinking about that.” He closed the gap.

The cyan box got closer.

“Of those two, the one on the left. Er, your right. I always mix that up.”

She hadn’t looked away.

“But I was thinking… Are you sure this isn’t your color?” The cyan dye shifted in his hold. 

“What are you talking about?” She spat.

He didn’t flinch. “You’re wearing it right now.”

She didn’t have to look.

There was her signature cyan lipstick.

There was a cyan splash across her otherwise drab hoodie.

She had thrown it on just for the sake of going out.

Something to cover up her bleached and stained top that she wore when she did her hair.

That didn’t mean anything.

“It’s not.” She told him with a voice that could cut glass.

Again, he was somehow immune to the barbs. “I’m gonna be straight up and you can get as mad as you want.”

Her gaze finally moved to his face.

“Do you even like purple?”

Her lips parted and it sounded like a crash to her ears.

He was impudent.

He should be scrubbed from the Earth.

How had she let this happen?

She let a man in that would say something like that to her face.

She had let him get close enough.

For what?

He knew nothing.

They were kindred spirits.

They had nothing in common.

He was a fool.

A jester.

She had kept him in her court because she found him entertaining.

She knew the real reason for fools.

Control the masses.

You allowed one wretch within your means to make fun of you. It gave the others the illusion of freedom to do the same. They could laugh along, but that was it. The royalty still ruled with an iron fist. The jokes kept them passive. It made them think they could entertain their complaints. In reality, they were offed one by one.

Heads rolling.

That was what Kendra sought.

Totalitarian rule.

She didn’t need to keep a fool.

She was in no position.

She would get another when the time came.

She had one who was assigned to her since matrimony.

Jase looked better in bells than he ever did in anything else.

“Obviously.”

He continued on as if she hadn’t spoken. “Cause like I get your old group had the name in it, but that was because it was your school mascot and it’s not even just what you’re wearing right now. I don’t think you own much purple. I mean I haven’t seen your house yet, but, you have, what? No purple clothes that I’ve ever seen.”

She couldn’t speak for fear his stupidity would make her stutter.

“Or food! Not that… there’s a lot of turquoise or purple foods, but…” His brow creased with his mask. “That’s a bad comparison. What else have we done?”

She was still holding those purple dye boxes.

“It doesn’t matter!”

Like a buffoon.

“It just seems like-”

She was the clown.

He was still talking.

It was makeup, she thought then.

Not like her lipstick, but everything.

Everything she put on was a costume.

It was her power.

It was pretension personified.

What else could she do?

She’d never been the tallest.

She’d never been the fastest.

She’d been the smartest.

She was the first amongst anyone to realize a brand.

She then crafted her own bit by bit.

From tomboy to trendsetter, she had tried out a series of hats in a store until a random person walking by complimented her beret. It was a comment along with some song she hadn’t been particularly impressed by, but she would own it. They would love her; she would make them.

Her hair came later.

After the jacket design.

After Jase.

After Debroah Ricci.

The bathroom redesign.

The internal version of herself smirked, but it felt empty. The void of her mind was aflame, but the fire wasn’t purple. Her avatar, a digital one as that made the most sense, was purple lighting. It struck the wasteland and filled it with teal flames. 

It was wrong, she screamed without a mouth.

That was not her color.

Her color was-

Why had she chosen purple?

The Purple Dragons.

She was the leader.

She had built her brand on that stake.

A tech club that won awards where there hadn’t been anything prior to her.

She’d clawed up with her nails. The ones she couldn’t paint because any would be ruined by all the typing. Her hair was fair game. From a black flag, she rose the sails of her turning tides. She chose the most electric color that was also the cheapest. The tub had been ruined with her first round of bleach. She fried her follicles, but what arose was her.

Purple.

When people saw her they thought of that.

Purple Dragon.

She hadn’t been one in years.

A hacker.

That violated her parole.

A convict.

Patently true, but not one she filed beside her name.

Purple.

She was purple.

She was.

She had to be.

Had she ever changed her lipstick?

That predated it all.

It was a faraway memory, but it struck down her avatar.

Right into the cyan flames.

A clip started of her going through her mom’s makeup and getting scolded. If she was so interested then she should get her own products to ruin. She was taken on a transformation trip all her own and it was there that she picked the first audacious color that caught her eye.

Her mom grimaced even though she still made the purchase. That neon swatch heralded in years of evolution. It was no longer some swatch that rubbed off her lips after a few minutes of wear. It was eventually upgraded to a custom formula made at a lipstick lab. She no longer had to ask; a refill was her automatic Christmas present every year.

It grew beyond her lips. 

She chose teal sneakers for a new school year. There was once a seafoam bedspread donning her mattress that had since been tossed out. Her entire decor centered around fringed frames and binders in aquamarine.

When had she ever chosen purple?

She picked it because it said something.

It was supposed to say her name.

Had it?

Did it?

When had it not?

Cyan muddied her purple avatar.

The flames burned through the exterior.

Revealing what lay beneath. 

Something chosen for the sake of it.

No deeper meaning.

Because it had caught her eye.

She liked it.

She liked the way it sat on her skin.

She had tried other lipsticks, but they weren’t as satisfying.

She liked to be electric.

Bright.

The CYMK pressed for print.

Layered colors.

A true leader and a purest form.

When she turned back a tear was sliding down her cheek and Mikey was still talking.

He was downright babbling.

She looked at him and saw he had only a box of purple in his hands now.

“I dug through the stock and compared and this one isn’t listed! This is it though, right? This is your current color? I’m so sure it is. I was going to ask the cashier, but yeah, we all know that wasn’t about to happen. Like I need her help. I have an eye for color and this is it. I’m sure. I’m like 98% sure, but I can make up the other two. You know we can mix color? I know how to blend! I’ve watched hundreds of hours of those palette matching videos. I love the way they smear, but I hate the sound! I just watch them on mute, but that’s not important. What’s important is I was talking out of my ass and I’m sorry, but I got the color, didn’t I…!?”

She looked at the box.

Her preferred brand and, damn him, her exact color.

Or what was.

Maybe it was time to move on.

“Where is it?” She spoke thickly through her tight throat.

“Where’s what?” He blinked wide at her.

“The other one… You said teal. It’s cyan.”

“The box said teal.”

A bubble of anger rose and popped in a way that made her stomach feel fizzy. “Where is it!?”

He fumbled the purple box like a volleyball and barely caught it.

In a full rotation of his body, he expertly swapped it out for the cyan dye and presented it to her.

“You don’t have to-”

“Stop.” She took it from him and stared at the shade.

It was a little too blue based on the art, but her thumb on the box paired well enough with it.

“If this looks bad, you’re paying for the fix.”

“Done.” He spoke stunned.

She glanced at the purple.

She watched it go.

Back on the shelf where it no longer had a tag.

The last of its kind.

“Let’s go.” She turned. “You got the basket?”

“Yup!” He grabbed it because he had actually set it down and followed her to the counter.

“This.” Kendra slammed the dye down in front of the employee. “And that.”

She stepped to the side in perfect time so Mikey could make some noise putting the basket down. “Much appreciated!”

Kendra stared at the little one-off products around the register like candy.

“That’s new.” The employee spoke as she rang her up.

“Is it though?” Mikey spoke in her stead.

“Uh, yeah. Who are you, by the way? Buy-or-leave doesn’t have friends.” The employee pointed at Mikey with a bottle of developer.

“Aw cute.” Mikey chirped. “Your nicknaming skills are on par with your color knowledge.”

“Excuse me?!”

Kendra’s head whipped around.

“I mean either you or your stylist is spinning the color wheel, but it’s crazy someone shoved violet in-between red and yellow. It’s ROYGBIV and I know my orange. Don’t they teach that in like, kindergarten?”

The last item passed the scanner and the employee dove under the counter.

Mikey covertly swiped the items into the bag.

The employee popped up with a mirror in hand and was desperately rotating her head to get a glimpse of her mohawk.

Mikey seemed to wait for a particular move before he slammed a few buttons on the computer screen and the pay now option popped up. Kendra patted down for her wallet, but Mikey beat her to that too. He swiped his card for the chip and then confirmed the purchase with another stretch of his arm across the counter.

“What the fuck!?” The employee hissed at her reflection.

There was a ding of a completed transaction and her attention shifted.

“Hey!”

Kendra caught the bag and ran.

“Put orange in its place next time!” Mikey hollered as he chased her.

The employee continued to yell after them until they got several blocks away.

There Mikey puffed with laughter which interfered with his breathing.

“What was that!?” She elbowed him as they slowed to a regular walking pace.

“I noticed it the second I saw her! Why’d she do the colors like that?” He continued to chuckle. “So off.”

“What if I can’t go back!?”

“I mean maybe I can’t go back, but why wouldn’t you?” He addressed her openly.

“She’s pissed at both of us! I brought you there!”

“Find somewhere else? She sucks.”

“It’s closest to my apartment!”

“Eh…!” He strung out the syllable before a light bulb went off. “I get to go to your apartment!”

She made a move like she was going to shove him into traffic and he readied himself. She didn’t do it, as much as she wanted. Instead, she bumped into him and stayed close. With her head down, heart beat anxiously out of her ears. The teal hair dye felt heavy in the box.

Mikey adjusted ever so slightly after the wave of surprise had passed and offered his arm.She pinched his skin for the sake of it. He clearly squirmed, but didn’t retreat. For that, she slunk her arm through his. They walked in silence that she thanked him for with her prolonged contact until he slowed.

She checked out and found he had taken them as far as he could before he didn’t know where her apartment proper was. She pulled on him gently before getting her arm free and pointing. She caught his hand in the process and he allowed himself to be led with a smile. Only the bag of products crinkled as she dodged into an alley and then turned down a narrower one. It was out into a back plaza where she hooked a fire escape.

It came down with its usual rusty creak and she made the perilous journey up it as she had many times before. She could feel Mikey oozing unsaid questions behind her, but he kept his trap shut. She knew it was strange that this was the only way to access her apartment, but it was because of this and the building’s absent owner that she was able to afford this much.

They turned a corner and there was her door.

She could hear Mikey’s jaw drop at the sight of a door on a fire escape.

She dug out a key and unlocked it. “Wait til you're inside.”

He nodded furiously and she opened the door for him.

“Don’t say shit.”

He checked with her before he ducked in through her threshold. She followed and nabbed the bag from where he was stuck. The door closed behind them and she left it for now. She would come back and lock it, but first she went to drop off the items in the bathroom. When she returned Mikey was still staring at her studio apartment and the mattress on the floor that had been messily made.

“How are you always so quiet and so loud?” She complained as she did up three locks.

“I don’t have a bed frame either.” He blurted out.

She looked up from the last lock and turned to him.

“I sleep in a hammock.”

“What? Like outside?” Her face screwed up in confusion.

“What?! No!” He seemed to think better. “Well…?”

“You’re still in the sewer with the rest of them?” She tossed the question as she gestured for him to follow.

It was only a few steps to her tiny bathroom where they clearly both weren’t going to fit. “Not the sewer exactly. You can get there from the sewer, but it’s an old subway depot.”

“Huh.”

“Can I say what I’m most surprised about?” He blurted out suddenly.

She rolled her eyes.

She had heard it all before.

She had only had a few visitors, but it was always the same.

No one could believe she lived like this.

“Sure.” She stunted out. “I’m stuck with you for the rest of the afternoon so keep that in mind.”

She unearthed a color bowl and brush along with a silver shampoo she hadn’t remembered she had.

She was reading the label when Mikey finally spoke up.

“There’s no electronics. No TV. You don’t even have an alarm clock.”

She looked up in her vision without moving her head.

Had someone mentioned that?

She couldn’t recall.

Maybe about her lack of a computer.

“Call it rustic.” She decided.

Mikey snorted.

“What?” She glared at him in the mirror as she used the sink below it as a platform to mix the bleach powder she had with the developer she had just purchased.

“Rustic is for cabins.”

“Uh huh.”

“You wouldn’t be caught dead in a cabin.”

“You don’t know.”

“You like hiking?”

“No.”

“Do you like outdoors?”

“Not really.”

“Bugs?”

“Turn around.”

Mikey spun and saw a cockroach crawling up the wall that she had spied in the mirror.

He screeched, recoiled, and flung a fireball at it that expertly scorched the thing without burning her wall.

She turned her head to view him where she was stirring. “And here I pegged you as an advocate for bug lives.”

“Not cockroaches. Nah!” He shuddered.

“My roommates that don’t pay rent.” It was a joke that amused her and she finished up mixing her first bowl. “I’m gonna start with the back. There’s a computer chair propping up my clothes rack and a stool with my phone cord wrapped around it. Grab those.”

He went to search for the necessary items as she yanked her hoodie off.

She left it on her bed and Mikey returned with the chairs.

“Take your pick.” She waved him off. “Turn to the wall for a second.”

He set the chairs down and dutifully did as he was told.

She dropped her leggings in one fell swoop and snatched up a pair of athletic shorts that had fallen off the side of her bed. She threw them on as they were disposable if they got product droplets on them. When she was clothed again, she smugly summoned Mikey and sauntered over to show off that they had a strip lining of purple. He took his assessment fast and returned her gaze with an equally smug look that said he knew that they were expendable for the process. She turned her nose up at him and went to her vanity to section her hair off.  

He set the computer chair ready for her like a throne and hopped up on the stool, which teetered beneath him.

She scooped up a blob on her brush and started painting bleach on. “What are you, anyway? Eagle Scout?”

“Todd Scout.”

“That’s not a thing.”

“Nature’s not really my thing either.”

She eyed him in the glass.

“Come on, admit it.”

“Fine. It’s boring.”

“It’s pretty.”

“I guess.”

“The trees. Being able to breathe. The water.”

“The booming quiet. The bugs. The lack of general humanity.”

“I thought you were going to say AC.”

“I don’t even have AC.” She met her own eye.

Mikey had to turn. “We can find you one of those window ones. I saw some good deals on a resale site.”

“’We?’”

“Yeah. I’ll show you the marketplace I use. I’ve got a good eye.”

That wasn’t her point, but she let it slide. “Purple’s a bitch to strip. This’ll take a while so bring it up.”

Mikey bobbed with laughter that shook his stool.

“What?”

He flapped a hand at her.

“Mikey.”

“Phrasing!” He quacked.

“It’s true.”

“I believe you.” He puffed with giggles.

“You’re thinking of your idiot brother.” She finally started painting bleach into her hair. 

“I am.” He admitted.

“Gross. Y’all are too close.”  

Mikey grunted as he popped upright. “Hey! Don’t be nasty!”

“Me?” She gave him an exaggerated look.

“Yes! I was thinking about how hard it is to get him to take off his battle shell sometimes!”

For a split honest second, Kendra couldn’t help but agree.

A lifetime ago when they had stolen said objects, the lot of them had waited hours for him to finally deactivate all three so they could remote in.

Before that he had endlessly used one or all of them in a rotation.

It was only for a moment and she was back.

“Sure…” She dragged out the word as a tease.

Mikey wriggled with irritation. “That bleach is boiling your brains!”

“It’s going to, with the amount I’ll need. How’s the coverage?”

“Get…” Mikey turned his head and demonstrated with a point to his own. “Here, above the bottom on the right.”

She nodded and started to paint with her eye on him.

He nodded appropriately and she coated the strands. “Good job though.”

“I’ve done this before.”

“No, talking about Donnie. I appreciate it.”

“It was like five seconds.”

“Five seconds more than before; I love my family.”

She continued to apply bleach. “Sorry your favorite brother got in my way.”

“He’s not my favorite.” He responded immediately.

That gave Kendra a quick pause.

“Gotta be second.”

“You rank them.”

“Yup.”

She chuffed. “Now that doesn’t sound like you. I can hear your whiny voice. ‘I love all my brothers equally.’”

“I do!”

She didn’t bother giving him a look; he surely felt it.

“It’s just that… sometimes they get on my nerves and I put them in an order that changes based on my mood which is a nice little dose of revenge because they totally lose it when they drop a spot!”

“Spoken like a true youngest.”

“Coming from what? An only child!? That’s the vibe you give off!”

“Step.” The word felt punctuated as she began to move around toward the front of her head.

“How many?”

“One.”

“Huh.”

“Jason.” She felt the need to name him. “Jase.”

“Who’s older?”

“Me, barely.”

“So it wasn’t really-?”

“I was stuck with him.”

“Oh, like that.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s a big oldest child complaint, pretty sure. Raph hated me when I was younger.”

Kendra paused to think.

“My favorite.” He clarified.

She turned her head a little to glimpse him.

He shared the look.

Her eyes darted away.

“Kendra.” He openly scolded.

“What?”

“You don’t know which one he is, do you?”

“It’s not my fault!” She bristled.

“We’ve been dating for months!”

That felt like a cold shock. “You barely talk about them!”

“I-!” His complaint died in his throat.

For a moment, there was only the sound of thick bristles painting strands of hair.

“That’s weird. I guess I haven’t… Huh.”

She didn’t want to, but she felt the same chilling confusion.

She had lost her way.

Here, Michelangelo was, in her apartment, willingly sharing information she could use and she hadn’t thought twice about. She now knew for sure that they all still lived together underground. He openly approached the topic of Donatello and she didn’t immediately bite his head off. He openly confirmed that Donatello didn’t rank highly which meant it would be easier for her to scam said man without upsetting this one.

The bleach fumes must have been getting to her because she paused.

Why did she care how Mikey felt?

She was supposed to ditch him when this was over.

Plant the virus and be rid of him.

Months.

They had been dating for months.

She had been the one to invite him here.

She hadn’t even plotted out any talking points to get her closer to her supposed goal.

Was that still the point?

She was meant to ruin the symbol of Genius Built.

The grandiose golden boy was going to become a new type of poster child.

So why didn’t she feel like she particularly cared anymore?

She went back to bleaching her hair because that’s what she was doing. She could now see the locks turning blond as the blueish color of the bleach sank into the layers. It stripped the fading hues because that was the chemical process taking place. Her old brand was being dissolved in real time to make room for her new one. Whether it would become teal or cyan depended on whatever convention best fit the marketing.

She felt empty and liminal in a way that one felt amidst great change. It was a sensation that she usually only took on as a precipice. For her, it was one to fling herself over and never look back. She had already done the climb and sailing off the cliff was the goal. The achievement beyond what was tangible and it had never been one she had to think about. There was always a clear goal post to head towards in the sky.

Except there hadn’t been in years. She worked the bleach deep into her stubborn roots. It was just like those garden beds where the top crop had to be cut free before she could access the weeds. She had been shorn for a while now but had cowered instead of growing once again. Her roots were suffering in a visible way because she was suffocating. Doing this, right now, was a step, but she had no direction or plan.

Nothing had changed.

She was still the deadbeat felon who could barely afford to cover her rent, let alone eat. She carted around a loudmouth who, no matter how hard she tried, would never fit her usual lackey mold. He stubbornly walked beside her. She added the last bit of slop to her hair and glanced at him.

He was quietly pondering to himself, but felt her eyes and looked up. “You pretty much got it!”

“Yeah…” She looked at the sink before reviewing her application. “Which one is Raph?”

“Red.”

“So Lee… Leo? Is that the last one?”

“Blue, yeah.”

“Confusing…” She told the strangely calm version of herself.

The one that put up with this.

“You guys match with another thing besides colors.”

“Bandana styles?”

“Sure.”

“Yeah, Leo and I show head and the other two don’t.”

“You have hair.” She emphasized as she set a timer for the bleach to do its work. 

“Didn’t always.” 

“You match, so where’s Leo rank?”

Mikey clammed up.

“Last.” Kendra smirked.

“I love him! We match mask styles!”

“Did you do it to make up for not getting along with him?”

He gave a horrified gasp. “We get along!”

“Always, right? Just like how Raph hated dragging your baby butt along.”

His mouth audibly snapped shut.

“I get you guys do the hero thing, but it doesn’t have to be all the time. It’s a job, right?”

“I guess.” He sulked.

She felt like she had both misstepped and not.

She chased the latter feeling because it was a strange one.

She didn’t usually have this sort of foresight outside her person.

Another odd sensation for the book of today. “You’re orange. You like orange, but you don’t like when that’s all you are.”

She could feel him watching her closely.

“You grew up as part of this set and it’s… I don’t know. You don’t need my permission, but it’s okay or whatever for your life to not be about them!” She sped up as she went on because her chest twisted up around the statement.

The foreign feelings stuck in what should have been the black hole in her heart and made it all too tender.

Mikey was especially quiet.

She checked the timer as if she could rush the process. This all unnerved her for a reason that she couldn’t quite place and she was getting sick of the stacking unknowns. Her hair was a smoothed image in the mirror and she decided then to similarly unruffle herself. There was no point in sulking in what she didn’t know and her time was better spent working on what she did. “Gonna get ready to rinse.”

She still had twenty odd minutes, but decided to widdle it away. He stayed behind as she ducked into her bathroom with the bottle of shampoo. She left the door open behind her as a point. She sat on the toilet as it was buddied up to the tub. It was the perfect place to hang her head over when it was time to turn on the tap. 

She spent several minutes finally reading that bottle. She spent a few more doing a quick check of her email. The last went down to resolving her will and she got the water going to her preferred tepid by the time the alarm sang. She pulled down the handheld shower head. It was the one modification she had really done to the place and she was absolutely taking it with her when she left whether she had to rip it out of the wall or not.

After a thorough rinse, suds, and rinse again, she cleaned her hair until the tingles subsided before she realized she had forgotten her ratty towel. “Mikey!”

“H-here!” He spoke on a bit of a delay.

“Can you get me…? Ugh! It’s like my ugliest towel! Tie dye when it shouldn’t be!”

“One used for dyeing, I’m going to look around!”

“Yeah! It shouldn’t be far.”

“Found it!” He chirped near immediately. “Can I…?”

“Door’s open! Geez! Give it, hurry up!” Blond tips dangled in front of her vision.

He appeared behind her and the cotton brushed her hands.

“Thanks.” She stunted out before scrubbing her head right there.

“We’ve… always… only had each other…”

“What?” She twisted the towel up on her head before sitting back to view him.

“My family.” He looked at her meaningfully from where he leaned in the door jamb.

She felt similarly stripped and small sitting on her toilet lid. “Oh...”

He rubbed his arm. “Sorry… I’ll just…”

“No…” Her hand raised and she flicked her fingers at its audaciousness. “No, I mean… I…”

He leaned against the old wood for the pressure.

“Don’t… expect any gooeyness!”

His expression grew fond.

“I don’t know! I guess it makes sense! You were all cooped up underground for years or whatever! Then you went straight to saving the world or whatever it is that you told me! I guess that makes it hard! When all you have is each other. When the city… seems really big and maybe not to you because to you it’s new, but to your parents it’s a totally different city than they knew, so they’re homebodies and they’re doing their best, but it feels like you gotta escape that oppressive feeling…”

Her voice felt too loud.

“But you’re you! You wanted to show your hero-dad up or whatever! You’re part of some set, but you’re your own piece and getting older, that’s all leaving the nest and not even the most understanding parent is going to agree with everything you do because that’s life. You’re living it. Not them. You gotta stick it to them and stick to your guns… even if… if you fail…”

She had to move and stood.

He expertly swung against the jamb like a second door and she exited.

She approached the mirror and took a deep breath. “I usually bleach twice, but I am so over this.”

He watched as she unraveled the towel. The blond didn’t look right against her skin, but it was lighter than she expected. She turned side to side and the wet follicles slapped against her cheeks.

“This might work though…”

“I want to color it.”

She snapped her head at him and had to wince when some of her hair smacked into her eye.

“Let me.”

When she could see again, it was like viewing fire from a man who could create it in thin air.

For the first time in the last few hours she felt a surge of sureness.

A comfort that she could depend on and she breathed out her lung capacity. “Okay.”

No threat.

No comment.

That was it. 

“We need to dry it first.” 

She sat in the computer chair and he wheeled her into place. She watched as he moved around her vanity like it was his house. He found her ancient hair dryer before she could tell him where it was. He got the plug going and took a second to depress the breaker. With a firm air, he only had to make one adjustment for the length of the cord before he turned the dryer on his palm. He waited for it to warm up before he readied himself for her. 

She bowed for him to go ahead and he got to drying her hair. With light sweeps of his hands, he worked down through her roots to eradicate all moisture. Her dirty blond locks puffed up as they were free of their downy liquid and grew to a lighter dry shade. It strengthened her resolve that this would work and her faith grew in time. 

Mikey squashed the last of the anxieties that she would never entertain. She paid attention to him out of curiosity and nothing more. If he was secretly a hairdresser on the side, she would believe it. She would need to look up his cosmetology license and finally get him on having lied to her about something at least partially nefarious.

The way he cleaned the bowl of residual bleach said he had no finesse of the sort.

He only had his own experience, which he showed in asking for foil.  

She had only the cooking type to spare in an oversized roll. She did some light internet research to see if it was applicable and it seemed like it was. Mikey prepared a pile of sheets before he checked the bowl and brush a second time. He found them satisfactory and snapped her damp dye towel to lay it over her shoulders like a cape before he got to work.

“You know, your hair being a little yellow’ll work. I’m pretty sure this cyan is too blue.”

She tried not to move too much as that fluttering in her chest cavity returned. “You forgot gloves.”

“Nah, I like to feel my paint.”

“And dye your hands.”

“I’m pretty dark already.” He showed her his palm in demonstration before bringing it right back to start painting her strands.

“And your clothes?”

He paused for that one.

She looked at him from around the first swipe of cyan in his hand.

He shot over to the sink for a wash before he yanked his top off.

“Hey!”

“Problem?” He flexed for her.

“Stop! Don’t strip in my place!”

He laughed. “It was your idea.”

“I didn’t say ‘take your clothes off,’ I said ‘ruin them, loser.’”

“You did not.” He chastised and went back to her hair.

“Well, I should have.” She pulled up her legs to get comfortable.

He went on coloring her hair until he seemed to relax amongst the paint.

“You good?” She asked before she could think better of it.

“This is helping.”

“I was too harsh, huh?”

He shook his head.

“I have a hard time believing you.”

“You have a hard time believing anyone.”

“I wonder why!?”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“This is why Red got tired of you. I bet you were like this when you were younger, but worse.”

“I absolutely was. Terrible twos who? I was terrible til like twenty.”

He wasn’t usually self-depreciating and she frowned.

He caught it as he folded some foil. “Obnoxious, not terrible.”

“Not much different.”

“It is.”  

“You believe everything your family tells you?”

“Do you?”

They had a stare off.

“Okay, let’s be each other’s judge. I’m hearing a whole lot of us needing perspective here. We swap back and forth sibling stories.” He suddenly spun her chair around.

Her vision rotated until she landed on his scorching gaze.

Her stomach flipped and her scowl turned down to squash it back into place.

He cock a knowing grin.

“No competition allowed. Got it?”

He broiled the statement into her skin until her cheeks burned and she had to look away. “Fine! Calm down… Geez…”

He was more gentle in replacing her chair so she could see herself. “And when you have new hair we’ll put out our verdicts on whether we were bad or not.”

“I never said I was.”

“You tried to convince me that you were beneath me on our second date.”

That was an oversimplification, but he would get her on semantics.

“I’ll start?”

She stared at him through the mirror before giving a curt nod.

“During one of our first official sleepovers ever, I made Leo so mad that he went to dad, but he couldn’t, ya know, go home because we were home…”

She shared a tidbit about how her household stopped buying jello because Jase had one allergic reaction. It then went back to Mikey who used the allergy angle and how he ate peanut butter with his fingers. He apparently put Raph into epileptic shock by scratching an itch he couldn’t reach with the substance under his nails. It pinged back to Kendra, who had to take a dive off a trampoline to save Jase at one of the Ricci family gatherings and the escalation continued.

They bounced off each other in the usual ping-ponging of verbiage until they were soon just complaining about family instead of talking about how they wronged them. It was exaggerated groans of commiseration and champing at the bit to get the next tale in. Judgment was passed early and flippantly. Mikey clutched his pearls a few times, but with Kendra’s relentless press, he snuck in small comments on how he agreed. The color was applied along with a timer and they continued to talk straight through to when it went off.

“Look now or later?” Mikey asked her firmly.

“It needs to be washed first.” She told him with the same gravity.

He nodded and turned her away to get the foil out. She tried peeking, but he took great care in tucking her hair back and out of her periphery. She put on a growing scowl until she wriggled in place and he had to badger her to stop. She hated how much she appreciated when he was poignantly stern and with it when he finally pulled away.

He whipped the towel from her shoulders and a shriek died in her throat about how it would stain her shirt.

He had pinned her length up at some point to keep from doing that exact thing.

She looked to see him holding the towel up like a cover to block the mirror.

She couldn’t see his face, but felt his toothy grin from behind it.

She rushed to the bath and called to him for forgetting the other shampoo.

With a quick scrub and a lengthy loss of color that always seemed to be too much, the water eventually ran clear.

“There’s another towel.” She called with urgency.

“Which?!” He sounded like he was already looking.

“A white one! Clean! I bleach it!” She tried not to look at the swatch of hair right between her eyes.

“White. White…” Mikey’s voice moved until it headed her way. “White! Got it!”

It appeared to her left and she scrubbed it over her head.

There was cyan transfer.

Her heart skipped and she allowed it.

It felt like monumental fate as she took the three steps from the toilet to the vanity.

Her image appeared in the dirty mirror with uncharacteristically wide eyes.

Joy, if she had to label it.

Perfectly wet and dark cyan locks spoke to her eye that they would dry the exact shade she wanted.

For one second, her vision welled up.

She then looked right past it as she grabbed the counter and leaned forward.

Her reflection looked back at her as a cyan avatar. She could easily command the flames with this.

I can't believe we're already here... My deepest thanks to my betas @tmntxthings and @unrestrainedhotsoup

[tmntxthings]

🧡👄🧡 WOAH! Hello there 🙌 the mask, the muscles, the eyes, the expression, the gear!!!!! MWAH!!! All so beautiful!!! Stunning!! Gorgeous!!!

Mikhail--💜

[tmntxthings]

I LOVE IT 😭❤️ the emotions!!! the doubt!!! the loneliness!!!! you captured the song perfectly and I think I even saw a lyric or two in there?! Fabulous!! Thank you so much 🥰

If y’all want @afreakingdork to write up a lil request or doodle go vote for Hassan & send my dearest dork the proof!! There’s still time!!!

Writing Request: Kenkey Songfic 🧡

Now @tmntxthings requested that I sonically bathe in No One Noticed by The Marias and write about whatever I came up with, but she also told me to listen to it earlier this week and said it reminded her of Kendra so I was totally swayed! 😤

Totally takes place in the AENEM universe 🤭 sorry not sorry 💞

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will write any short 100-400 word request like below or draw you a doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

A little forlorn all ages below the cut:

Kendra laid on her mattress with her cheek smashed into her month old sheets. There was debris of crumbs that sometimes ghosted of her skin, but she had slept in far worse. it was better than scratchy prison blankets, but that wasn't what was making her skin crawl.

She was staring at her text chat with Mikey.

His last message was dated six days ago.

Her responses had never been super prompt, but she had gotten back to him within a few minutes that day.

It was innocuous.

He asked if she would watch a video.

She asked him why he hadn't sent the link.

Then nothing.

She left her screen on as she rolled over.

Her stupid stained ceiling stared back at her.

What was his problem?

For months he had been nothing but interested.

He was obsessed with anything.

Or maybe she just told herself that.

Maybe she had lost her mind.

Was she really laying her missing him of all people?

Why?

There was no reason.

He had just crashed into her life and looked at her like she was the only person in the world.

Her cheeks were hot because her pillow was substantial.

Blood was pooling.

She rolled the other way from her phone so they would cool.

The shift rolled within folds of her sheets and revealed those dead skin particles.

What was shed and schlep off.

The pieces that easily fell away with time.

Isn't that what they had done?

He'd gotten his fill.

He'd held her and that was it.

Those bits of his interest wilted and were shed like anything else.

It wasn't like she'd been excited to see him.

She hadn't gone out of her way.

It had been a plan.

Pretend to chase him.

Get close enough to gain access to her home.

It was never about him.

It was about his connection.

Like that scent of wooden paintbrushes and a hint of vanilla that always clung to him.

She fought her pillow by punching it straight off the bed.

She had lost it.

Thinking about this.

Thinking about him.

The way he held her.

The way he both paid attention and didn't.

He knew arm's length like no one else.

Only him.

That truth collapsed her chest and she had to sit up.

Her room was dark as it had been for hours.

Her eyes had adjusted just enough that she saw the shapes.

The end of her bed.

The rack for her clean clothes.

A pile for the dirty.

Her shitty router in one corner.

Empty.

That was the feeling.

Emptiness and a hollow that she hadn't know before.

She pushed against his ribs to try to keep them together.

It had never been a problem before.

She had spent her life like this.

All the years that shaped her memory.

She went at this life alone.

She wasn't going to let some orange idiot slip between the cracks of that.

Not when he could leave without a trace.

Her eyes widened.

In all her time trying to make enough of a connection that she could get what she wanted from him, she never realized how far he had kept himself from her.

He barely talked about his family.

She didn't know where he lived.

She had his number and nothing else.

In an instant, everything she wished that wasn't true came to fruition.

He'd made her aware of her loneliness and then left her to stew in it.

It had been so easy for him.

She couldn't be here anymore.

Not when he knew where it was.

She could get away.

She could start again.

it wouldn't be the first time.

It was with her last shreds of control that she found her old purple stain jacket and put it on, one arm at a time.

It fit.

She looked right at her door, not back, and moved to grab the knob.

It opened to moonlight and the shape of a man similarly reaching out.

It took her tired eyes time to adjust.

To Mikey and his casts.

One on his leg and one on his arm.

The bandages around his head.

They way he broke out into a smile.

"You heading out?" He asked almost timid.

He never was.

"It's been... It's been awhile..." He huffed with some effort.

Injured.

"My phone kind of..." He gestured over himself with the wrapped arm in a sling and winced for it.

He noticed.

"I've been trying to see you, but I was only cleared for tomorrow, well, today, and it's midnight so... today!"

She surged forward with only the intention to take.

Into his one good arm.

To hold.

To console.

She guessed she was sort of over waiting.

That was why she had been about to leave and he squeezed her in place because he knew.

[tmntxthings]

Oooooo don’t mind if I do 🥰 GO VOTE! ^^

Miss dork! Hello hello, a question

Have you ever written anything akin reader having their first time with Donatello? As in losing their V card. If not, what are your thoughts on the theme?

I'm a fan of how you write, it's beautiful and so heartfelt, everything you put into words, it makes sense and resonates with me so deeply I'm honestly always happy to read your works (within my comfort) so I was wondering, since you have such a talent, if you'd ever explore that topic. If not, I'm also curious on your point of view ;D

Is this a request? 👀

REQUESTS ARE ONLY OPEN IF YOU PROVE TO ME YOU VOTED HASSAN/MIKEY IN THIS POLL!

I'LL DO DOODLES

I'LL DO WRITING REQUESTS

But you must pass my test first!

You can do that by attaching a screenshot in an ask or DM!

But no, technically I have not done V-card Donnie yet.... But I will if you vote Hassan 👀👀👀

[tmntxthings]

📢 ITS HAPPENING 🤩

Attempted Execute of Non-Executable Memory - Chapter 1

RotTMNT Michelangelo x Kendra

I'd like to welcome you to my new fic and the cafe Kendra works at with this gorgeous chapter art by @hitokshellart

Rated: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings/Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Revenge, Falling In Love, Love, Romance, Dating, Aged-Up Mutant Ninja Turtles, Love Confessions, Human/Turtle Relationships (TMNT), Step-Parents, Neglect, First Kiss, First Generation Immigrant Kids, Acculturation, Loss/Removal of Cultural Identity, Prison Time

Synopsis: After hitting the lowest of lows, Kendra has carved out a simple life for herself. She's content enough to live this way until opportunity walks through her place of employment in the form of an orange turtle mutant. She just needs to get close enough to him to plant a virus in his infuriating brother's servers, but will she be infected long the way?

ATTEMPTED_EXECUTE_OF_NOEXECUTE_MEMORY is a computer error code that occurs as a result of faulty or outdated device drivers, an issue in the RAM, a virus, a malware infection, or corrupted system memory.

While in canon Kendra, Jeremy, and Jase have no last names, Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles staff writer Russ Carney confirmed two times that they are nods to 2012 writers, so I took those same writer's names to give last names to their respective characters.

For the sake of this fic, this makes them:

Kendra Byerly

Jason Ricci

Jeremy Shipp

Also available on Ao3

It was the midday slump.

Consumerism was marked by the quintessential time when one lost their energy and motivation.

For pencil pushers, it was the time of day when their pitiable lunch break’s nutrition wore out and left them husks. It was by design. Their exhaustion made them more manipulatable by their corporate overlords. Every centimeter of the system was designed to keep workers docile. The obvious ploys of bureaucracy and hyper specification of a skyscraper’s worth of workers meant an over bloated building wasn’t under threat of collapse. Peons took pennies and were replaceable at a moment’s notice.

Kendra would have taken special pleasure in giving every one of those pencil necks a swirly.

Unfortunately such childish whims were frowned upon in adult society.

It didn’t matter that their attitudes needed adjustments now more than high school.

No, she could only savor her reality checks in the form of spit hocked into coffee cups.

At least she wasn’t a corporate wage slave, she’d tell herself.   

No, she was free from that.

She traded a scholarship at MIT so she could be trapped behind a counter that barely concealed the perpetually sticky shoes. The scent of coffee beans was baked into every strand of hair so when she turned over in her bed at night she’d catch whiffs of Java. She stood tall through the morning rush with plastic smiles for those desk jockeys and spit into their no-foam latte hypocrisy as if that got her any sort of foothold in this battered world.

She wasn’t bitter.

She was iconoclastic.

She had only become opportunistic because of society’s frown upon her nonconformity.

There was a time limit to how long one could be misunderstood.

When she was a teenager, the world was hers. She’d climbed through the scholastic honors like monkey bars in elementary school. Pre-pubescence couldn’t mar one bit of her squeaky clean grades in middle. By high school, she had built an award-winning tech club from the ground up that was both sanctioned by the school and only existed because of her. She saw further ahead as she always had. She looked onward toward the next obstacle that lay beyond the walls of learning and onto her futures.

Wasn’t that what the guidance counselors wanted?

She moved ahead of the curve. She was the epitome of advanced placement. Her reading level had always surpassed her peers’. She was taking college credit classes as early as her sophomore year with special considerations taken as a freshman. It seemed obvious she’d hit a public educational wall, but what more could she have done with her pak’s single income household? 

There were scholarships, but it would take her away and he needed her.

Until he didn’t.

Until Deborah Ricci appeared.

Until that mentality of ‘at least we have each other’ suddenly became ‘here: finally a sibling your age for you to bond with.’

Only pak conveniently left out the part where it was so he would no longer have to deal with her.

She didn’t rebel because her dad remarried. She busied her time once she had more of it to spare. She was an overachiever. She was success-driven. She was a college admission board’s wet dream. She had been tethered down by her upbringing so when she was freed from it, her creativity unleashed.

After their string of robberies and nearly infiltrating the Nakamura Corporation, the Purple Dragons didn’t get juvie, they got house arrest.

Their misconduct was seen as brilliant even in front of the eyes of the judge. They didn’t need character witnesses, they stood testament to what they had done. They asked how a mere set of teenagers were able to almost achieve such a feat. Nakamura’s CEO himself had set up a video call with both her and her bapak to commend her. An internship would be available in their security division after graduation if she wanted to find more of those same weaknesses in their system.

Escalation in the Purple Dragon’s endeavors after that was seen as natural evolution.

From their homes, eyes were on them.

On her.

They created a video game that captivated the world. The sequel was ordered the same day it was released. So it was created with an underlying purpose of ousting one irritating techno-dud and also happened to deploy a giant robot. Three teenagers with access to only their laptops and a shoddy WiFi connection built not only the 50-story machine, but the unique A.I. that analyzed and replicated player data. Their destruction was a stepping stone. They played their parts under her tutelage.

For his code, Jeremy got a full ride to Caltech the same day he was sentenced.

His records were sealed before he served a single day.

For the mech, Stanford’s recruiter made a home visit.

For Jase.

Kendra had tried to step in.

She fixed the bugs.

Not just in the robot’s design, but in Jeremy’s code.

The entire idea was hers and it showed how well she acted in a leadership position.

She took on the crunch time to give the other Dragon’s rest.

“We only have one spot to offer.”

Deborah Ricci had shooed her away.

“Shouldn’t you be happy for your brother?”

Should Kendra have been happy that Deborah Ricci played favorites with spawn that she pumped out?

She certainly wasn’t looking out for the daughter she supposedly always wanted.

MIT would come later.

After both Jason and Jeremy pulled away from Kendra in their senior year.

When their backtalk grew louder. 

When they told her that it was time to grow up from renegade thinking.

College had lured them into the system. 

They had both fallen for that bullshit West Coast dogma and betrayed their heritage. 

When they had nothing but written promises and practice showed them otherwise. 

All of Jason’s designs that weren’t proofed ended up short circuiting. 

All of Jeremy’s code that wasn’t reviewed bugged out.

Kendra didn’t have such a failing.

She had sent the schools anonymous tips that their golden ticket students weren’t so lucky in the chocolate bar pick after all.

The drivel they sent back only further perpetuated the cycle of hogwash.

“Code review and proofing positions are integral to the technological developmental process.”

“No advancement in our society was done alone.”

“When it comes to your applications, we believe that your values might not be the best fit for our institutions.”

Try elsewhere.

We don’t want you.

She didn’t want them.

The new recruits to the Purple Dragons didn’t come close to cutting it. Not that she compared them to two losers who were jumping city ships. They cowered too much. Their outputs were abysmal. Motivation wasn’t what it used to be and current technology made the newbies soft.

Why command when the tech could do the work for you?

Who did they think wrote that script?

They were posers in the name of innovation.

Cowards.

Scared to upset that status quo and softened by the system.

She’d show them.

She used her Purple Game franchise residuals to buy real help. What approached her dark web offer was those with proper scruples. This was where she shined. She was the queen moving her pawns. Finally, she had staff that listened and understood. They set their sights on what she always wanted.

Control.

To oversee it all.

To excel as she did.

Finding bugs in the step beyond.

The ones in society. 

The superior final checks.

She would weed the masses.

Word got out about the data breach days after it occurred. She held the information with a tight fist. That’s when MIT came to her dining room table. Their suspicions had been right and she showed the recruiter within reason. He had his offer ready and an embossed pen to sign. 

She was finally seen for what she was. Her accolades would be appreciated. She never considered a single fallback. She didn’t apply anywhere else. All those tech schools with their supposed up and coming programs were vultures picking carcasses. Her father wiped an actual tear from his eye as the paper was slid over to her.

Her non-compete.

Her secured fall attendance.

Deborah Ricci’s little proud puff of air.

“I knew she’d get there.”

Deborah Ricci whispered to Jase.

“Isn’t that grand?”

A grand?

$1000?

Kendra had the intelligence to make billions.

Kendra held data that would destabilize the stock market.

Kendra had documents that outed nearly every politician. 

Enough to cause a global depression.

Wasn’t that wonderful?

She set the pen down and told the recruiter she had one last thing to show him.

He said that wasn’t necessary.

She said she considered it a gift for his generosity.

His lips pursed and the room held a collective hush.

With a single button push, she released everything she had hacked to the masses.

Out of the kindness of her heart.

Her true blue beating life organ.

She could have held onto it.

She could have used what she learned for decades to come.

While MIT didn’t have honor’s distinctions, she’d always known in her heart that she would graduate Summa Cum Laude. She’d enter the workforce and sit at the top penthouse of some New York apartment. She’d grace the cover of every magazine. She would die a legend at a ripe old age with the same wits about her.

Where was the fun in fate?

She was never meant to walk the obvious path. 

She was supposed to jump ahead. 

Blackmail was pitiable.

It was beneath her.

What point was there in cleaning out a system that was wholly corrupt?

Having seen her future, she knew the truth.

She needed to burn it down.

Start fresh.

Mold it to her superior vision.

One that fit her drive.

One that awarded talent.

Merit.

The recruiter who was closest immediately knew what she had done.

He packed up without a single word.

Not while her father begged.

Not while Deborah Ricci stared on.

Not while Jase got a ping from his phone and pieced it together himself.

Kendra sat in the same kitchen chair and smiled.

She turned her laptop around.

She got to work.

The police came with their arrest warrant at 3:41pm that same day.

Two months from 18 years old, they decided to try her as an adult.

She had a record after all.

The compounded sentences for her conviction were up to 30 years.

White collar crime was a joke.

She served just under two years in a minimum security prison.

The hierarchy there was comical.   

Her family must have thought she would get taken down a peg. She was running shop through the library's antiquated computer systems in a day. She placed orders and took hold of the supply chain. There were three separate attempts on her life during that paltry amount of time.

What was a shiv when one had fought aerial battles with jetpacks?

Still, in that time she barely remembered the clothes she was released in.

It was back to society.

It was getting her GED since she had never finished her senior year.

It was the nature of her crime that kept her from being accepted to college at even a community level.

It was her criminal record that barred her from any technologically-inclined firm.

What changed?

She had directed a kaiju-sized robot to destroy blocks of New York City and for Jeremy that spelled full ride. Nakamura wouldn’t even look at her even though they’d promised her security detail after a string of robberies. All that she could reasonably tell had changed was a number.

Her age.

Twenty was no longer a teenage designation.

She lost time, but hadn’t been less productive.

It didn’t matter.

All those doxxed individuals still took their checks.

Her disruption unveiled corruption and yet the system continued to benefit them.

She was damned.

She turned to what she knew best.

With rotating online personas, she hacked.

What choice did she have?

No one outside wanted her.

No one in the system would have her.

Her own family sucked the air out of the room if they occupied it at the same time.

Her room became her only haven.

There she was free.

The world wide web.

Until a literal maroon of her past resurfaced.

Genius Built’s own Donatello Hamato ousted her when she tapped one of his suppliers’ systems.

It was an instant violation of her parole.

She knew it wasn’t actually him.

Why would it be him?

He had people for that. 

When was the last time that 30 under 30 blockhead touched an actual keyboard?

He likened himself to some pompous fashion designer these days.

Wearable tech revolution, her ass.

Some faceless nobody in his security detail took notice because they had to protect their bosses’ seismic assets instead of noticing a deficit in theirs.

She served five years in her next stint.

She didn’t blame him.

She had too much pride for that.

Blaming him took away her accolades.

She hated him for other reasons. 

He was the poster child for everything wrong with this world. He was the sewers to success story the tabloids wanted. At least that was what the rags in prison touted. She had been barred from anything that even gave off a hint of an electrical current in her second conviction.

The worst part was he had no idea.

He ate up the attention like he’d earned it. 

A wall of lawyers handled her case and he didn’t appear once. 

Why would he?

Why shouldn’t he?

He was a gullible waste of space.

He had fallen for all of the Purple Dragons’ schemes.

He was a blowhard.

He hadn’t changed. 

Self-serving.

Self-righteous. 

Just as he had always been. 

No one picked her up from prison the second time. 

She had been released on good behavior, but all favor for that sort of thing had long dried up.

This time she actually didn’t remember the clothes she was apprehended in. The only part of her that remained was some faint purple that scorched the ends of her now black locks. They were a violent reminder of her true success. She wore it as a brand. She hitched rides home to find it wasn’t one any longer.

There was no room for her.

Her father never looked her in the eye.

Deborah Ricci wasn’t home.

Kickboxing, her father lied.

She was given a starting sum to get what would have to be a closet of an apartment. 

She was offered a job by her uncle through the church.

A coffee shop.

Nothing chic.

Family owned and operated.

Small.

Hidden.

She was a shame to be tucked away. She took the cash with her head held high and spent part of it just to get her hair done again. The vibrant purple scared the cafe owners, but they’d already agreed to harbor a criminal.

Kendra wondered what they expected.

Tear drop tattoos?

They watched too much prime time television. 

They dragged out her training over a week even though she could make latte art within her first few hours.

What was a flick of the wrist to a certified 132 WPM?

She was never alone at first.

She wasn’t given the WiFi password.

She cracked it on the very same first day, but its speed was piss poor.

She worked as a barista.

They were busy in the mornings and not just with the church folk.

The high rises nearby had their advantages.

The shop offered coffee strong enough to keep a narcoleptic awake.

Kendra refused to say she had grown docile.

She was tired.

She was bored.

She was just as hungry as she ever was, but what was the point?

She would always be a certain amount of starved.

There would always be a blight on her name.

It was as patent as the cockroaches in her apartment. She would always be taking home the stale bagels for a cheap dinner. Hacking Swiss bank accounts didn’t have the same allure. Not when the risk for her was higher with each prison sentence. So she settled for mucus in matcha and purposefully misspelling simple American names.

A pittance for her purveyor.

Once again good behavior granted her the illusion of freedom. She was finally left to run things in the shop. She could close, she could be trusted with the register, and she was given real food. The ibu there made a mean nasi goreng. Kendra wouldn’t say it reminded her of her mother’s.

She cried because it had been weeks since she’d had a vegetable.

Her body missed nutrients, not home. She decided then to join the family network. She had always despised it growing up. It felt like a restriction to be beholden to her community. Now, she found refuge because she was forced to. 

Her wages got better.

The old folks asked for small things from her since their kids had run off for brighter futures. She tossed them bones in the form of grabbing groceries and hosting their game nights. She learned to call a fierce game of bingo and shooting down losers who faked their boards held some interest. It also helped that they would soon act as character witnesses. 

With each small favor she spared, her reputation increased. They all knew her past, but they needed help. She was allowed to fix their ancient tech. Some of it was older than her, but it felt like an injection of joy straight to the veins. The second her fingers touched specific combinations of plastic and wire, she was home. 

There were no newer models. 

They liked what they liked. 

It proved a certain challenge that had its advantage. 

The coffee shop was like that. 

She supposed it was for the best.

Would the allure be too great if she got hold of a stable internet connection?

It wasn’t worth her time to wonder as she succumbed to the slump. She teetered against the counter. Her arms moved, one over the other, to fold. She left a divot for her chin and put her head down. She had fallen asleep like this once  and an angry customer woke her just so she could yell about her laziness. She wouldn’t be fooled again and only let her lids lull.

It was the midday slump.

It was her mid-twenties slump.

It felt like a mid-life slump.

The bell on the door chimed a soothing contrast to what omen it bid.

“Oh…!” A male voice sang. “That smell! Complex and spicy, mmm!”

Just as Kendra was straightening her body, her expression openly soured.

It was one of those.

Some foodie jag-off who thought himself groundbreaking because he drank coffee at a place that wasn’t owned by some white hippie start-up. He would go back to his friends and say the family roasting beans here had connection to Che Guevara through his travels even though the guy was pinning the wrong continent. Kendra didn’t have a tier list of customers she hated. She considered herself a loathsome equal opportunity lender in that regard, but she had special places in her black heart for specific types of assholes.

“Welcome!” She chirped with nothing but microplastics lining her smile. “What can I get started for you today?”

What she didn’t expect was a mutant to appear from behind the espresso machine.

He was round and soft and couldn’t keep his eyes in one place as they roved with a gape that matched his mouth.

Her gut dropped like lead.

She knew this mutant.

His name was something just as froufrou as ‘Donatello.’

They were related.

Brother.

This was one of the turtle brothers.

Which one?

He was clearly orange, but which one was he?

She had never bothered to learn the coordinating name-to-color scheme.

The ones that weren’t Donnie were tech illiterate anyway as far as she could remember.

She supposed it didn’t matter.

She guessed the only thing that did was if he recognized her.

He’d surely tell his stupid brother how she was working in some lowly coffee shop.

Donnie was absolutely the type to gloat.

The memory of his voice grated her ears. 

“Uh…!” The orange masked man held the syllable before landing on her with bright eyes. “I’m sorry, I did not hear what you said.”

She blinked at him.

He returned the fluttering lashes.

There was no recognition on his face.

He must have had no brain power whatsoever.

He hadn’t heard her?

He didn’t need to.

The script was the same wherever you went.

You go in and someone asks for your order. 

“Welcome.” She responded with a flat and bitter brew. “What can I get started for you today?”

“Oh! Uh!” The mutant scrambled looking for the menu.

It was above Kendra’s head because this shop was set up like all the others. 

He continued to have trouble locating it. 

She’d mislabeled.

He wasn’t one of those.

He was a complete and total idiot.

She pointed a finger up and knew irritation was showing on her face.

He chuckled sheepishly. “Thanks! Let’s see what we got here!”

He didn’t recognize her.

It’s not like she had a uniform.

She had an apron on at best.

Everything else was well-worn clothes, but she had the same style.

That was her.

Lilac hair.

Nevermind the roots. 

Mid-length haircut.

The split ends hardly mattered. 

Teal lipstick.

Smudged from work. 

She’d ditched the beret only because she’d lost it years ago and finding another felt pretentious.

As the man mouthed what he read on the menu she could only think he was surely dumb enough to not recognize her unless she was wearing her exact ensemble from high school.

She did still have her purple satin jacket.

It was packed up.

Not that it mattered.

Nothing did. 

He was yet another moron to squeeze a few bucks out of. 

In that regard, she dodged one bullet for buckshot.

He was now a customer to get in and out.

“What’s an espresso bon-bon?”

“Espresso over sweetened condensed milk.”

“Sounds sweet!”

“Sure.”

“Affogato is espresso over ice cream, right?”

“Yup. We use Indoeskrim.”

“What’s that?” His eyes lit up.

“Ice cream.”

“Oh.”

She stared on, minutely satisfied at how his crest had fallen.

“Is that a brand or flavor?” His interest bounced right back.

“Brand.” She could barely keep a glare off of her.

“Where’s it from?”

“Indonesia.”

“Woah, seriously?!”

“No.”

“Wo-wait…”

His stupidity knew no bounds.

“Ah!” He pointed a finger like he got the joke.

She stared at the digit.

“You are… very serious.” His hand fell. “I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

“I’m not.”

His eyes were steady for a moment before flying around.

When he settled back on her it was with a narrowed gaze to look for tells.

She only cocked her hip while waiting.

“You’re too good!”

“Thank you for the compliment, sir.” She poured all her bile into her words.

“Sure!” He had no idea.

That meant she could freely be crueler. “Would you like anything or do you want to continue to hold up the line?”

He predictably spun around to check the empty shop.

When he returned, he didn’t look betrayed, but ecstatic that she had pulled another fast one on him.

Like this was some kind of fun game and not wasting her time.

He had the IQ of a lump of clay.

The social skills of that same orangey blob.

He would be achingly easy to manipulate.

She inhaled only through her nose as he prattled on something about choice.

That was a dangerous thought. 

That was a bad road.

She had left that behind.

What end could she use him for anyway?

It’s not like he could do any feasible work for her.

He would go to a pet shop if she asked him to right click a mouse. 

His only exploitable feature was his connection to Donatello.

Her eyes widened.

A bit of adrenaline raced through her veins.

She could use this man.

He shared a home with the asshole.

Or did.

She hadn’t kept up on the news.

They were something though.

They were close.

She had read that in prison for sure.

In every article, Donnie had blabbed about his microscopic brain and his brothers.

They were his driving creative force or some psy-op baloney.

If she could get close to even one of his servers.

She could leave no trace with that level of access. 

It would take one tiny virus and boom. 

She had loads of code to pull from. 

She would have to transcribe it, but she had a particularly nasty one ready. 

It was her therapist’s suggestion.

Well not that exactly, but the man was a court-mandated buffoon.

He told her to write out her negative feelings into letters.

Not to send, but as a means to talk to the people that had supposedly harmed her.

Her.

Of all people.

There wasn’t a being who existed that she cared enough about.

So she wrote code. 

Notebooks worth. 

Useless scratchings until now. 

But Donatello. 

Now, he wasn’t a being. 

Donatello was a symbol.

Breaking him would finally send her message.

She had grown over the years. 

She was now a big enough person that she didn’t need to stamp her return address along with her letter.

The one she wasn’t supposed to send anyway. 

No. 

She could let havoc ensue and carve out the rubble. 

Surely this orange fool had a means to get her close enough.

She just needed to persuade him. 

That entailed connection.

She would need to get close.

Close enough for him to bring her to a home.

Did he need friends?

She couldn’t stand the thought.

She’d sooner seduce him.

Oh.

She could do that.

Her looks had come in handy once in a while.

With someone as stupid as him, she could probably convince him without a single touch, she bet.

He’d be as easy as a dog to lead with a treat.

She would dangle it in front of his nose long enough until he took her home.

She would make an excuse.

The powder room. 

A classic. 

Plant the virus.

Leave.

Heartbreak would be his only association and this damned coffee shop.

She bet he didn’t even know the address.

He would get lost trying to find it again.

If not, there was always arson. 

Electrical fires were about as easy to manufacture.  

“Okay…” He spoke ready.

She was glad she had nailed her eyeliner wings today.

She lowered her body in a calculated sultry way. 

“What’ll it be?” She looked at him in a striking way. 

He jarred a little and smiled off to the side.

Bashful, a good start.

“I’ll have a latte and a side of espresso. I like to taste new beans in their purest form.”

Eating them made more sense, but it mattered little. “Discerning choice. A latte and a shot on the side. For here or to-go?”

That would set the rest of her plan into motion.

He was probably too dense to notice if she left her number on a napkin.

He would wipe his mouth with it. 

He would throw it away. 

He would ask if she had given it to him by mistake.

She needed to be overt.

She preferred that at least.

The worst he could do was reject her.

Then this spur of the moment plan would be a write-off. 

Plans done this quickly rarely panned out. 

This would all have been a pipe dream created to help her through the slump. 

It wasn’t like she cared.

“I don’t know about discerning…” He chuckled with a hand behind his head and was clearly flattered. “How about the latte to-go and shot for here?! It’s gotta be fresh and I wouldn’t want to waste a second to-go cup on something so small!”

He was too easy. “You have taste. Few do.”

“Thanks, though that’s a shame about everyone else. The smell is incredible. It called to me!”

“Thank you.” She rang him up. “I try to let my work speak for itself.” 

He paid.

“Receipt?”

“No, thanks.”

“I’ll have that right out.”

“Thanks!”

He walked away to peruse the seating area and she got to work. It was a process that took little brain power at this point. Espresso cups were warmed on top of the machine and she ground out an exact portion of beans. It was a quick tamp to get them into the portafilter. Then it was a lock into the machine for it to drip through. She pulled a double shot so one went into the cup and the other into an awaiting glass. Steaming the milk came next and she could tell by sound when it hit 155°F. One shot was ready while the other went into a to-go cup and, since the latte was made to-go, she didn’t bother with the design. She lidded the throwaway and placed the small espresso mug onto a saucer for an order up.

“Sir?” Damn, she forgot to get the name.

“Michelangelo, if you can believe it!” He headed towards her from where he’d been staring at some wall art with his hands folded behind his back.

It was like he wanted to ruin his brother. “Why wouldn’t I? It suits you.”

She slid the paper cup forward, but withheld the saucer.

Michelangelo reviewed her and seemed fine with reaching out to take the itty bitty handle. “You want to see my reaction? How scathing should I make my review?”

It looked dumb in his large hands. “I’d stake the shop’s reputation on this. Please.”

“You’re staking it on this?” He smiled and held the cup up. “I can’t let that go to waste! Here goes!”

He exhaled loudly above the small cup. It showed a gap in his teeth that she wondered why he hadn’t fixed. He tipped his head for an obvious inhale which he released in the same manner. He was putting on a show and she couldn’t have been more bored. He at least didn’t look at her as he took a delicate sip. Instead of swishing it like the sommelier he pretended to be, his lids cracked to observe the leftover liquid. He swirled it once before smiling into drinking the rest. When he looked at her again, she felt a tinge of irritation for having waited on him.

He grinned straight through it in an annoying way. “Incredible. I’ve never tasted anything like it.”

“We source our beans.” She scoffed. “The owners want it to be authentic.”

“From Indonesia?” He set the mug back onto the saucer she still had a hold on.

“I never said that.”

He chuffed. “Alright then, keep your secrets.”

Something about his playful tone caused her wariness to flare.

“My compliments to the masterful barista.” He bowed obnoxiously to her and got hold of his to-go cup. “I’ll come back for sure!”

“You wish!” She snapped before she could catch it.

“I do.” He spoke breezily and began to move away. “You know what they say! You hold onto a good barista with both hands!”

He was leaving. 

He was leaving and she hadn’t gotten the necessary information. 

She needed something. 

She needed a number. 

Sure, she didn’t care about this plan, but there was something to the cost-sunk analysis. 

She hadn’t invested nearly enough staking capital to count this as a risk. 

To get the reward she had to try. 

At least a little more than she had already. 

Which she guessed hadn’t been much more than playful. 

She put on her best cool exterior and caught the last of his gaze before he turned away. “That makes it sound like I’m only good for coffee.”

He stopped.

That wasn’t as alluring as she had hoped.

His head tilted. “Like what? Do you guys make sandwiches too?” 

She could feel the shine die in her eyes. “No.” 

She didn’t have to remember he was dumb, but she really needed to calibrate just how much. 

“I meant this job. If you wanted to see me so badly then you could ask me out.” 

For a second she thought even that blatant of a comment wouldn’t be enough. 

The idiot rotated to face her fully. 

His green skin flushed an even darker shade in the process. “W-wait…! Can you-!? Can you say that again!? I don’t think I heard you right!”

She turned her head to the side so he would have to deal with her profile. “Get your ears or whatever you have checked.”

That was mean. 

She raged against her own impudence.

He brought out the worst in her. 

She folded her arms because it was all she could do.

“Out how?” He quacked. “Like outside? Like to watch while you sweep the street? Like something else?! You gotta remember that I can’t tell if you’re messing with me!”

Her glare burst from her as she lolled irritation toward him. “It’s obvious, you fool! Obviously I meant a date!”

“A date…?” 

“Yes!” She snapped. “Sweeping outside!? What are you talking about?” 

“You want to go on a date?” He felt the need to point to himself. “With me?” 

“No, the other customers!” Her face felt hot as she threw her arms out to address the store.

Of course, he felt the need to look around.

Her hands fell hard onto the counter. 

She guessed if she was mean enough now then at least he would never come back. 

She wouldn’t have to suffer an ounce more of humiliation that way.  

“I’m flattered…”

Rejection hit her far swifter than she cared to admit.

“No one’s ever asked me out like that before!” He crept closer.

She blinked once at him. 

“Is this what it’s like?!” He sauntered a little. “The ‘love at first sight?’ The meet-cute? I reviewed your coffee and you reviewed me?! Ah! It’s like you asked for my number! Oh, but you didn’t… But you got me before I left! Most people have to get to know me first. I know my rugged good looks are one thing, but my personality is where I usually shine!” 

He posed and put on what he thought was a smolder. 

She could hit him.

She could say it was self defense.

She could smack that boiling hot drink right into his soft, round face.

She would relish in his screams as it melted off.

“If it’s a prank you can say so. You can laugh, but on the off chance you meant it…?” He sent her a sudden vulnerable look that undercut the positioning of his head. 

The raw emotion scraped her nerves. 

He was showing his tender side.

It had been mere seconds, she had done nothing, and she had already gotten this far. 

He really was revenge on a silver platter.

She would take that heart of his and eat it raw.

She was going to ruin him.

“I meant it. Don’t get a big head.” She scowled into something she hoped was cute in a pouty way and cast her eyes down to hide anything else in her lashes.

“I’ll ask then! Number, please! I’ll need your number.” He returned to set his drink back on the counter and addressed her with full excitement.

She flinched away and tried to pocket her revulsion. “What did I just say!?”

“I’m sorry it’s not every day you’re asked out by a beau-ti-ful barista!” There was that damned smile of his again.

It took up too much of his face.

She didn’t like it.

“Who asked whom?” She got a napkin and hid near the register as she scrawled out the digits.

“Oh yeah! The credit is all yours. I’m just helping.”

She returned to find him in a newly curated debonair pose with an arm folded on the counter and his body leaned.

She stared at him dully with the slip of paper in her hand and wished to throw it in a furnace if she had one.

He reached out and plucked it from her before she could rig something flammable up.

“I bet you need that plausible deniability while you’re on the clock. There’s gotta be rules about hitting on customers! Just know that I don’t make it a habit to ask out people anywhere near their place of business. It’s total creep territory, but you made it clear! I just wanted to also tell you that I was feeling the vibe, in a not weird way!”

“You felt nothing!” She seethed. 

He snorted one single time before he laughed. “Gosh, you’re so-! This is gonna be fun! We’ll have so much fun!”

“Hey! What do you mean? I’m ‘so’ what?!”

“I’ll text you!” He flicked his thumbs as if typing out a message and caught his drink once more.

“‘So’ what?!” She hissed after him.

“Bye!!” He ran out the door to another chime.

This one wasn’t near as soothing.

The sudden emptiness of the shop crashed around her. 

She felt danger creeping up the little hairs on her neck. 

She slapped them down. 

She had to trust her judgment. 

He was dumb and this would be an easy caper. 

She was sure of it.  She had to be.

(Check out behind the scenes for this fic and more on my Patreon. You can follow me there, here, or the tag #AENEMfic for updates)

I'd like to not only thank my usual betas @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 , but join me in welcoming my new beta @unrestrainedhotsoup

[tmntxthings]

一∑From the Start・゜・。

author’s notes: scurries in from the darkness, throws this > 💣 < out into the light, and runs back for cover 💥

warnings: unedited, angst, drabble, unrequited love, pining, daydreams, cliffhanger

—————————————————————————

When Leo invited you down to the lair to hang out, you had thought maybe it would be a movie thing. Or perhaps even going to the ramp room, chatting while he practiced skateboarding tricks that almost always ended badly with bruises. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he had dragged you into the kitchen to whip up something to eat or just snack on whatever the two of you could find.

But no, instead, he led you to his room, with a skip in his step. When you questioned why it had to be just the two of you. Why all of his brothers were rolling their eyes in Leo’s direction. He just shook his head, “I can’t tell anyone else! You’re the only one I can trust!” It was then, that you had a sinking feeling.

This scenario had happened before. Many times actually. You glanced back at the bros, exasperated already and you hadn’t even heard anything yet. But you knew.

Once in his room, Leo let go of you, and jumped face first into his bed. He let out a dramatic screech, kicking to boot before he turned to the ceiling and announced, “I’ve got a crush,”

You held back a sigh as you walked over to the only chair in his room. Pulled it out from under the desk, and sat, getting ready for the long haul. “Who and how?”

He really hadn’t even needed the question. He was off to the races explaining exactly how he had met ~them~ and all the moments after, from whence his heart first skipped a beat, the beauty that they hold, how they laugh at all his jokes. Your eyes clouded over.

This was pure torture. As your eyes unfocused, you let your train of thought wander away from Leo’s babbling fancies. Truly you’d lost count of how many times this had happened before. It was always the same things that made his heart flutter. That made him go crazy, so much so, that he’d tire out his brothers from all the lovesick shenanigans and bring you into the mix.

Which was like listening to chalk squeak against a chalkboard. Shrill and grating. If you didn’t tune it out, you’d go crazy yourself. Because it was despicable to listen to your own crush, talk about how much they wanted someone else.

For a second, you could just blink, look over at him, and pretend he wasn’t saying anything of consequence. “Blah blah blah,” his mouth moved, but you weren’t listening. That was better. It was unfair how pretty he could be. Especially when he was happy, especially when he was falling hard. The way he smiled, how his eyes shined. His hands couldn’t stop moving, he just had to animate with his whole body about how he felt. Your knee started to bounce. He was being cruel and he didn’t even realize it.

It wasn’t fair. But then again, how would he ever know unless you told him? You imagined what it would be like. To interrupt him. To confess your love. He’d probably laugh in your face. Ha what a great joke Y/n, now get real and back to my love crisis. That’s what he’d say. Or something along the lines of it.

But sometimes you could imagine him pausing completely. Getting taken so off guard that he no longer had the words to respond. That maybe he’d look at you with a different light. So maybe that was why you did it. On the off chance that, maybe, Leo had always harbored something for you too. Just deep down! So deep that he felt the need to hide it with all of these other so called crushes.

“Leo!”

He blinked and sat up from where he had been laying, interrupting his tangent.

“What?!”

Straightforward. That would be the best route.

“I like you.” Your eyes were steady, yet your heart raced. It was thundering in your chest as you watched one of his brow bones raise.

“I like you too Y/n” he said so as if it was obvious. Which meant he was misunderstanding.

“No no, not like that. I like you.” You strained with the emphasis as you willed his thick skull to understand. And it must’ve gotten through because his eyes widened just a bit.

“You like me?” He questioned, sitting up even straighter than before. Now you had his attention. And you could feel sweat building up in your palms as you nodded seriously.

“But, we’re best friends..” and you could’ve let that shoot you down. But you continued on. Getting up from your spot, from the single chair, and making your way over to him. Despite how every step made you second guess yourself. Despite thinking maybe it was a better idea to just run out of his room. Or to just settle for the friendship you thought you had wanted.

But you pushed through it all as you sat down next to him. “We are. You’re my best friend Leo. And I, maybe I’m greedy, but I can’t help it. I’ve liked you for so long now. And I don’t think I can just sit idly by anymore.”

You took a breath, palms closing into fists. Eyes closing because if he was going to reject you, it’d be better to not see the pity on his face. You piped up once more before he could say anything, “Every time you talk about your crushes, I can’t help but think, but wish, that it were me! And every time you get over one, I get ahead of myself, I hope that maybe, one day, you’ll look at me differently!”

There was so much you could say. So many different ways to say it. But that was the gist. “That… you’ll like me like that. That you’ll return the feelings I’ve felt for you,” you blew out a breath. Then looked into his eyes.

Leo was rarely ever serious but he was now. “I never knew…” he said softly after a moment of silence. Of taking in all that you had revealed. You nodded not knowing what that meant for your relationship with him now. And the fear of losing him forever leaked onto your face. His eyes softened, a green hand going out to cup your cheek.

“I wish I’d known sooner,” and with that he brushed a finger against your skin. He looked down at your lips as they parted with a shocked breath. He smirked, as only Leo could, and leaned down with a silent question that had you tilting your head to give him better access to your lips.

“Y/n are you even listening to me?”

You blinked.

“Huh?”

You were in the single chair.

“Hello! Earth to Y/n, this is like the biggest moment of my life, I’m telling you I think they may be the one!! Come on focus!!”

Right. You straightened up, crossing a leg over the knee that wouldn’t stop bouncing.

“Sorry, go on,”

And he blinded you with that smile as he retold all of the sickening things that made him so endeared to his crush. If only it wasn’t so endearing to you.

—————————————————————————

This ↓ is why this ↑ came about :D

[tmntxthings]

JULES!! I loved this sm! You are so right, the image of a lonely man going to a pet store and choosing four turtles is like 🥺😢 heartbreaking!

Y’know thinking about the Kraang in human suits, trying to find Splinter and the turtles since he was accidentally mutated is something I didn’t really spend too much time thinking about! He’s being hunted! He’s trying to hide himself, the boys, as well as take care of them as best he can in this new body and new environment! So yeah, he may not have been perfect, and he may have made some questionable decisions, but I do not think Splinter is a bad character at all (just putting that out there!!)

After 15 years of staying safe, hiding from the Kraang and anyone else who has a problem with Splinter *cough* *cough* Shredder *cough* 😂 he succeeded in at least getting the boys to their teenage years! And he taught them self-defense and other ninja techniques that were invaluable to their survival on the surface and the many adventures they went on thereafter!!

Again loved your Ted talk 🥰 thanks for adding to the discussion!!!

So I just rewatched the first episode of tmnt 2k12 and wow is it different from watching it as a kid!

Below the cut is me ranting/questioning/commenting on all the choices made 💀 (mainly splinter’s) cause I need to get this out and if anyone else wants to add on or chat with me about it, PLS DO ❤️

Okay so what bugged me the most, throughout the entire first episode was realizing that Splinter, who was a human and turned into a mutant rat, doesn’t educate the turtles about ANYTHING human???

The setup they have is that basically for fifteen years the turtles haven’t left the sewers due to Splinter’s disapproval/orders/parental control! They’ve only eaten algae and worms??? And the only thing Splinter ever taught them was independent defense, (cause boi did they look rough tryna save April from the kraang)!

Like I don’t understand why Splinter doesn’t go with them when it’s their first time going up on the surface! Or why they have no knowledge of pizza or any other foods! It’s like Splinter decided his human life was over and he’d just adjust to a sewer life and not even think about the surface?!

Only now the boys are begging to go and so he’s like quickly telling them to avoid strangers, and bathrooms, and how to cross the street 💀 LIKE SIR if you are sooooo worried about them, why ain’t you up there too???????

I get that he lost everything, his wife, his daughter…👀… his home, his humanity! So who knows what they will do to a person, but if he’s apparently happy/satisfied with how his life is now, that he gained four sons, why not actually teach them about the world they are living under????

Idk maybe it’s because of how logical Mutant Mayhem Splinter was, he was a rat turned mutant, so he didn’t actually have any experience other than being a rat yet as a mutant he took a chance and went to the surface with all the tots! But that ended so badly that he lives in fear of going back up to the surface! The boys all are eating regular human food/getting groceries and are very knowledgeable about humans and society above! I don’t know if that’s due to splinter or due to technology but STILL, it’s wayyyyy more believable!

These were things that just took me off guard while rewatching! And that was just episode one… did anyone else have similar thoughts about 2k12 Splinter??? Like what?!?!

[tmntxthings]

It’s been a hot minute since I watched and truthfully I don’t think I ever finished 2k12 so I’m really excited to watch it in its entirety! But I had a feeling that somewhere along the line Splinter’s reasoning for never leaving the lair would be brought up even if it’s not specifically put into dialogue! That Rat King episode for instance, 😖 his mental just breaking and screaming no (if im remembering correctly) gahhhhh just gets me!

Other things that bothered me that I forgot to mention because I boarded the Splinter train: the boys go out into NYC and there is literally NO ONE on the streets. No one peeking out their windows/doors when crazy kraang shit happens! The only people on the street were April & her dad who got kidnapped, that one pizza delivery guy, and then the kraang van driver! And those were all separate instances where it was just them and the turtles on the street basically 😂 I was like… right sure sure, I mean we ain’t in Time Square or anything so I get the little to no-foot traffic. But absolutely nothing as the fighting is going down mid street?! 💀

Then somehow at the very end of the episode, the ONE ninja star that Leo throws to stop the kraang van from getting away, gets put on the ?!news?!, and the anchor is all like, “residents reported a disturbance and the police found THIS” *insert one ninja star photo* and so 😌 logically ninjas are in NYC. Like you’ve gotta be joking— AND THAT ONE STAR IS THE REASON SHREDDER FLIES FROM TOKYO?!?!!?! I about died

So I just rewatched the first episode of tmnt 2k12 and wow is it different from watching it as a kid!

Below the cut is me ranting/questioning/commenting on all the choices made 💀 (mainly splinter’s) cause I need to get this out and if anyone else wants to add on or chat with me about it, PLS DO ❤️

Okay so what bugged me the most, throughout the entire first episode was realizing that Splinter, who was a human and turned into a mutant rat, doesn’t educate the turtles about ANYTHING human???

The setup they have is that basically for fifteen years the turtles haven’t left the sewers due to Splinter’s disapproval/orders/parental control! They’ve only eaten algae and worms??? And the only thing Splinter ever taught them was independent defense, (cause boi did they look rough tryna save April from the kraang)!

Like I don’t understand why Splinter doesn’t go with them when it’s their first time going up on the surface! Or why they have no knowledge of pizza or any other foods! It’s like Splinter decided his human life was over and he’d just adjust to a sewer life and not even think about the surface?!

Only now the boys are begging to go and so he’s like quickly telling them to avoid strangers, and bathrooms, and how to cross the street 💀 LIKE SIR if you are sooooo worried about them, why ain’t you up there too???????

I get that he lost everything, his wife, his daughter…👀… his home, his humanity! So who knows what they will do to a person, but if he’s apparently happy/satisfied with how his life is now, that he gained four sons, why not actually teach them about the world they are living under????

Idk maybe it’s because of how logical Mutant Mayhem Splinter was, he was a rat turned mutant, so he didn’t actually have any experience other than being a rat yet as a mutant he took a chance and went to the surface with all the tots! But that ended so badly that he lives in fear of going back up to the surface! The boys all are eating regular human food/getting groceries and are very knowledgeable about humans and society above! I don’t know if that’s due to splinter or due to technology but STILL, it’s wayyyyy more believable!

These were things that just took me off guard while rewatching! And that was just episode one… did anyone else have similar thoughts about 2k12 Splinter??? Like what?!?!

[tmntxthings]

So I just rewatched the first episode of tmnt 2k12 and wow is it different from watching it as a kid!

Below the cut is me ranting/questioning/commenting on all the choices made 💀 (mainly splinter’s) cause I need to get this out and if anyone else wants to add on or chat with me about it, PLS DO ❤️

Okay so what bugged me the most, throughout the entire first episode was realizing that Splinter, who was a human and turned into a mutant rat, doesn’t educate the turtles about ANYTHING human???

The setup they have is that basically for fifteen years the turtles haven’t left the sewers due to Splinter’s disapproval/orders/parental control! They’ve only eaten algae and worms??? And the only thing Splinter ever taught them was independent defense, (cause boi did they look rough tryna save April from the kraang)!

Like I don’t understand why Splinter doesn’t go with them when it’s their first time going up on the surface! Or why they have no knowledge of pizza or any other foods! It’s like Splinter decided his human life was over and he’d just adjust to a sewer life and not even think about the surface?!

Only now the boys are begging to go and so he’s like quickly telling them to avoid strangers, and bathrooms, and how to cross the street 💀 LIKE SIR if you are sooooo worried about them, why ain’t you up there too???????

I get that he lost everything, his wife, his daughter…👀… his home, his humanity! So who knows what they will do to a person, but if he’s apparently happy/satisfied with how his life is now, that he gained four sons, why not actually teach them about the world they are living under????

Idk maybe it’s because of how logical Mutant Mayhem Splinter was, he was a rat turned mutant, so he didn’t actually have any experience other than being a rat yet as a mutant he took a chance and went to the surface with all the tots! But that ended so badly that he lives in fear of going back up to the surface! The boys all are eating regular human food/getting groceries and are very knowledgeable about humans and society above! I don’t know if that’s due to splinter or due to technology but STILL, it’s wayyyyy more believable!

These were things that just took me off guard while rewatching! And that was just episode one… did anyone else have similar thoughts about 2k12 Splinter??? Like what?!?!

[tmntxthings]

I saw this and i was like “aw yeah, this is happening”

yandere 2012 Donnie

“calm down Donnie there just friends… just friends”

He steadied himself against his worktable, barely keeping himself together as revolting thoughts plagued his mind, he tried to block them out with facts, nothing beats facts.

“they wouldn't leave you over some [REDACTED], they told you so themselves”

He caught his breath in his throat trying to breathe through his nose though he was on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Besides, their friends couldn't hold a candle to what id do for them”

The thought brought an eerie smile to his face only witnessed by the dark corners of his lab, the thought of what he'd do to his enemies set his mind ablaze. Unlike them, he could keep you safe.

At this point your friends are unknowingly on thin ice, if they make the mistake of hurting you or puting you in danger then they're gone. Donnie will comfort you in the late evenings of the night over the loss of your friend secretly muling over his victory.

If you confront him about his concerning behavior then he will convince you that the bad perceptions you have of him are not of your own but of others, trying to plant this poisonous seed in your mind that he's in the wrong when that's “clearly” not the case.

He won't be too miffed if you choose to hang out with his brothers when you're at the lair, he loves them! But there are times when they can really get on his nerves, he might need some alone time then even from you. Though sometimes your presence is greatly warranted.

He craves your touch, that delicate smile beaming up at him as you two cuddle underneath the sheets after a long day, he couldn't imagine a world without you nor his family. So that's why he's forced to use methods that his dutiful brother would call “unorthodox” against their backs.

…

It wouldn't take too long after his misadventures for his brothers to catch on to what he's doing, although Mikey always had a head start. He's seen the ways he looks at you and the ways he talks about you, it isn't too unfamiliar with the way he thought of April ones upon a time. But this felt different, morally different, in a way Mikey couldn't describe it without being brushed off and told it's just another puppy love crush Donnie's going through. They've seen it before, why would this be different?

That was until Leo discovered his plans for the Purple Dragons, he leapt into action running to one of Donnie's supposed locations hoping to find him. The map that the turtle had created was ingrained into the leader's head, mentally cursing when the purple bandana was nowhere in sight. He had little to no time as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop, although the scarcity of Leo's other two brothers made it harder to track down Donnie but he doubted that they could keep up with him with how fast he was running. The wind blew violently against his ears as his heart beat pounded in his ribcage, it felt like it was about to burst wide open. The sounds were overwhelming, but they were interrupted when he heard a gurgling sound. Right beneath the building he was perched on, in the dark alleyway he saw that familiar color worn by his tallest brother. He was holding someone tight in his hold until they became limp in his arms. Only then when the man had stopped breathing did he sense the others presens, Donnie stared up at Leo the same way he used to do when they were smaller. But this was wrong, not to mention the specs of crimson that painted his face.

Leo could feel his heart drop at the mere sight of his eyes, for a second, just a second he saw something foreign in them that Leo hadn't seen before, and it scared him to his core. The young curiosity seemingly lost in the dark bags under his eyes from all those sleepless nights scheming, planning his assaults. There was no trace of the old Donnie Leo knew. But he wouldn't lose hope in him this easily, not his little brother.

Ooooooo yeah 😌 that picture stoked a lot of 2k12 Yan!Donnie material heheh! Donnie you’ve gone so far off the deep end, killing people in the name of “protecting” reader when really it’s for the purpose of keeping them close and eliminating anyone who may take reader away!!! Ahhhhh Leo looking at Donnie and finding him unrecognizable to the brother he knew 😭