Tmnt Mutant Mayhem Idea: Lee Mikey. Ler(s): His bros Mikey has a big play coming up when he has an important role. And he needs to do a certain dance and pose for it. He has a hard time with the final pose he needs to do it continuously practicing. So much so that he is not properly eating or sleeping. One night before the play his brothers find him practicing at 1 Am. And he protests going to sleep telling on how much he needs to get it right. This is when they offer a littler 'help' (They ambush him)
❝Forget about the Blues❞
𝚁𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @yourirridescantgrace
·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝!!! 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚗’𝚝 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝙼𝚞𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚑𝚎𝚖 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚜𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎! 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚏𝚗𝚏𝚑𝚍𝚓𝚜𝚔𝚓𝚙𝚗𝚓𝚜𝚓𝚜˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝
𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟾,𝟹𝟹𝟸
𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🎉🧡
𝙻𝚎𝚛𝚜: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 ⚔️💙, 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 💢❤️& 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🔭💜
𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚋𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕: 𝚇𝚊𝚗𝚊𝚍𝚞.
(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)
𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝙼𝙰𝙽𝚈 𝚛𝚎𝚏𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜, 𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚞𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗, 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝚊𝚗 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐.
𝙳𝙸𝚂𝙲𝙻𝙰𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚁: 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝—𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚌𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚎𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚐𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚆𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚕𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚍, 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 <𝟹˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙
When it came to being a part of a cast in a play or musical preformance…what would you feel?
Adrenaline? Excitement? Stress? All of the above?
Well, when it came to Michaelangelo…he most definitely felt all three of those emotions periodically and sporadically. Theatre as a whole always demanded movement, expression and projection; to sum it up: it was basically like running a marathon in a vibrant colored costume on a set—and Mikey could without a doubt deliver that flawlessly no problem.
Besides, just the entire concept of a theatre performance just always felt…special to the young turtle. Hearing the laughter, applause and just overall presence of fellow theatre kids and the audience members made the orange cladded teen feel alive in a way he couldn’t really describe.
He could tell a story—millions of stories—and they didn’t even need to be his own…
…It was just…cool to say the very least; it was just so cool that the teen didn’t need to worry about whether he did or didn’t leave the oven on before leaving the sewer…because he wasn’t exactly Mikey at that exact moment. Once he hit the stage, he was playing a character he could completely immerse himself in and not be ridiculed for it (as long as he played the character well, which of course—he always did).
But although there were many many positives to the activity…there were also many many downsides to said activity—because every good thing always had downsides.
In fact, these so-called ‘downsides’ included emotional whiplashes of feelings that often led Michaelangelo to spiral and panic.
Why, pray tell?
See…here’s the irony to it all: it was theatre; and among his older brothers, Mikey was seen as the designated prankster, the joker and comedian of the family…
…But he was also the designated ‘theatre kid’. He was the one who told jokes and knew every—and I mean every musical’s soundtrack that was to ever air on Broadway.
Theater was, well, Mikey’s quote unquote ‘thing’ and without that he was practically just…putting the joke in ‘jokester’. He desperately wanted but also desperately needed to make people laugh. He needed to make people feel that they were more than just a title people assign to them because…what else did he have to offer if he didn’t have those attributes?
He didn’t want to be known just as ‘the baby brother’ or ‘the shortest turt’ anymore…he was fifteen going onto sixteen now and he wanted to make an actual name for himself. And if he had to go in front of the entire school while wearing a blonde wig and singing like the average crackhead Californian…that's exactly what he would do.
Now, as the amber eyed mutant clutched his script in both of his hands (though, he hadn’t looked at any of the pages for about five minutes), his fingers turned as white as the papers he was holding, quickly pacing in a small, wobbly circle in his and his sibling’s room.
The eldest brother, Leonardo, watched the youngest frantically pace in the middle of the room from his bedside with a worried expression, sorting through another copy of the musical’s script to make sure all the scenes were in order.
Michaelangelo’s pacing got even more staggered and quick as he checked the date on the hung up calender—May 5th—a Monday…a Monday that officially marked that the musical was barely a week away. And to make matters worse, he kept freaking forgetting each and every single one of his lines; it was making him absolutely sick to his stomach.
And to make matters even more worse, Raph and Donnie have been loudly playing video games on their phones and sassily bantering with each other for the last couple of hours.
Now, on a normal day…Mikey wouldn’t mind the noise at all. Heck, he’d even join in. But there were four days left until opening night! And he couldn’t for the life of him focus when there were literal gunshot sound effects going off on one side of the room as he was trying to study lines.
And not to sound like a broken record, but again—if it was a normal day, the youngest would've just quietly told his brother’s to kindly shut the hell up…but he couldn’t do that now.
The amber eyed teen knew to some degree his siblings would understand—hell, his older brothers were the most understanding people he’s ever known (to an extent, anyway…), but…he felt so annoying doing so that anytime he felt the urge to say something, all of his pent up distresses just got pushed down to the pit of his stomach, piling atop of one another.
If he dared to speak, his words would just come out all wrong—like they always did…and he wouldn’t be able to take them back.
But past Mikey’s inner turmoil and insecurities, his older brother, Raphael, lay sprawled on his back on his own bed, his phone in his hands as the screen light flickered across his face in the dimly lit bedroom. His immediate younger sibling, Donnie, was draped over his stomach like a scaly weighted blanket, his legs dangled off the side of the bed and his head neatly tucked under Raph’s arm.
Raph slightly looked from his bed to see the youngest and the eldest share a wavelength of anxiety; Mikey, letting out a shit-ton of restless energy while Leo tried his absolute best to help the shorter get down his musical lines.
The red cladded turtle’s face shifted to one of contortment at the other two, “You…guys okay over there?” He asked as he averted his gaze back to his cellular device and resumed his Call of Duty gameplay, “You two dorksnots look like you’re gonna throw up Macbeth monologues any moment now.”
“Honestly? We might as well…” Leo muttered under his breath as he reorganized the papers in his hands once more (which would honestly end up jumbled no matter how many times he tried to fix them).
“Leo—don’t even, you theatre kid in disguise.” Donnie huffed.
The eldest gasped dramatically at the random accusation, gripping the air almost like he saw a dagger before him, “Wha—H-HEY! I am not a ‘theatre kid in disguise!’” He huffed back. “I’m not even a theater kid, period.”
“What's your shirt say then?” Raphael raised a brow ridge, casually pointing to the Hamilton shirt his older brother had been proudly wearing ever since the four got back from school earlier this afternoon.
At the question, the honey brown eyed mutant quickly covered his chest as if he were suddenly stripped of his clothing, glaring at his immediate younger brother, “SHUT UP!!!” He shrieked in dismay as he covered up the logo with his hands, “I-It was a gift from April!”
The tallest turtle out of the four sighed whilst shaking his head in disappointment, “Ohof course it was...”
Donnie couldn’t help but snicker at the situation, putting his phone down to lock eye contact with the eldest, who looked like a walking-talking strawberry who just so happened to have a convenient crush on Lin Manuel Miranda. “Bet you haven’t washed that since you got it.” He snarkily commented.
“I knew I was smelling Victoria’s Secret somewhere…” Raphael teased.
“Oho, please. Not even; Claire’s.” Donatello remarked. “You want a Twilight book to go with that shirt, Nardo?”
Raph pressed his lips together at his immediate younger brother’s completely out-of-pocket comment, trying to keep his laughter in…but a puff of air escaped his nose and then he ended up snorting. That noise alone was enough to send him and his younger sibling in a (greek) chorus of loud laughter.
“Yohou’re sohohoh fuhucking mean!!!” Raph wheezed, hitting Donnie in the shoulder repeatedly, “Fuhucking Claires?! Who eheven gohoes to thahat shitshow ohof aha store anymohore, ahanyway?”
“Yohou know ihihi could’ve sahaid worse!” The tech whiz shot back, grinning, “Like…Spencers or something like that. And you know damn well Mondo practically lives at Claires, Raphie.”
The second oldest doubled over, his laugh sounding like an old diesel engine turning over and crashing into random greenery (oddly specific but honest to God it was what it sounded like).
Leonardo crossed his arms, not finding the humor in the situation in any way as he rolled his eyes and tapped his foot against the floor at his sibling's hysertic…well, hysterics, “Yeah yeah…hardy har har. Laugh it up, you guys. You two are sooooo freaking funny.” He grumbled as he glanced away and focused his attention back to the smallest turtle.
“So…” Leo rubbed the back of his neck, “You ready to act out that scene again? I think I finally nailed down the perfect blonde accent.” He slowly enunciated the last part like an uncultured tourist visiting a foreign country.
But the amber eyed mutant turtle quickly shook his head before biting the inside of his cheek, flipping through his entire script so quickly that the whole action probably just looked like he was airbending.
Mikey was really trying to focus…he really really was. But every single time he managed to sink into his lines with his eldest sibling, the laughter from across the room snapped him right back out like a fish caught on a firm line.
Michaelangelo rubbed his eyes tiredly, staring at the same line for probably the third time now as the words started to get more scrambled in his brain. He could hear Donnie’s cackling and Raph’s snarky comments, but something in the back of his mind told him that he was hearing and thinking all of this to be way louder than it actually was.
They knew he was studying; they knew. And yet here he was: every line and every scene slipping out of his head as if his brain was made out of pure molasses.
The youngest knew his two older brothers weren’t laughing at him…but it definitely didn’t feel like they were laughing with him either. Every snicker and every snort felt like it was poking fun at him, reminding him that compared to them he was inferior, replaceable and—
A small thud. Donnie clumsily fell off of the bed resulting in him and Raph’s laughter practically rumbling the sewer walls—with a little Leo sprinkled in there, asking if the second youngest was okay before helping him up, giggling despite himself at the silly circumstance.
Did they even care? The thought hit the orange themed mutant hard like a cartoonic anvil to the head; way heavier than he wanted to admit to himself. Do they even see me here? Or is it just funny to them that when they’re walking it feels like I have to sprint just to catch up?
It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that they got to laugh while he was stuck here, hunched over memorizing lines from an almost endless fuckass script just to feel noticed.
Mikey dug his fingernails into his shoulder, trying to at least ground himself before attempting to remember anything at this point and trying to push past the overstimulation crawling and creeping everywhere under his skin. Every single laugh that came from his brother’s mouths felt like a personal attack…even though he knew it wasn't meant to be.
They’re just having fun. You’re overreacting. Stop being an asshole.
But he couldn’t help it. The noise felt like it was cracking him open slowly but surely. The amber eyed teen just continued his pacing as he now also flapped his hands against his sides, his hoodie sleeves looking like an eel out of the water as a result.
Picking up at his brother's more agitated body language, Leonardo quickly and quietly walked back over to the youngest, switching off his practice-lines-partner button and cranking his big brother lever up to a T.
“…Hey.” The oldest of the four started, clearing his throat to shoot the other two a look as they were still laughing like they were high off of something. The red and purple duo quickly and quietly hushed themselves, putting their phones to the side.
“…You okay?” The ninja leader quietly asked but instead of an answer, he was quite literally brought with straight up crickets.
The sounds of an abandoned Call of Duty game filled in the silence, buzzing in the eldest’s ears as he waited for the youngest to say…well, anything. But his nunchunk user little brother just flapped his hands, his gaze focused on the floor more than anyone in the room.
“Mikey…?” Leo tried again, softer this time…but there was no answer—Mikey just flapped his hands even harder. Leonardo’s chest tightened, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pajama pants before looking at his other siblings who unhelpfully just shrugged, putting their games on mute now.
The eldest stepped forward a bit more, gently waving a hand in front of the youngest mutant’s face. “Earth to Mikey…!” Leo drew out in that big brotherly voice that could only be described as audible nectar. The voice in question ceased Mikey’s almost spiral, looking up at the other expectantly.
“There he is…!” The honey brown eyed teen smiled warmly, letting out the breath he didn’t even know he was holding in the first place, “‘Thought you were ignoring me there for a sec...” He said as he brought his hand back to his own side. “…You…alright? I noticed your stimming and uh…just wanted to make sure everything was fine.”
The shortest turtle forced a small smile, fiddling with the bracelets on his wrist in a very fast manner. “I-I’m fine!” He wobbily assured, “Sorry. I was just thinking is all…you know how I get when I’m lost in thought.”
“Thinking about what exactly?” Raph commented from his bed quarters, his tone not hiding his suspicion at all as he and Michaelangelo shared a somewhat challenging gaze with one another, “You and Leo have run this, like, a hundred times.”
Donatello nodded in agreement, “I bet you could do it in your sleep by now.”
“No, I really reeheally can’t…” The graffiti artist grumbled under his breath, putting the other papers on his fellow artistic brother's bed (aka: Leo), “Can we go over that scene you were talking about earlier one more time, Leo? Please? The musical’s this week.”
“I know that, Mike.” Leonardo deadpanned with a chuckle—but worry was still evident in his tone, “You’ve been saying that all night.” The oldest put his copy of the musical’s script on his bed as well, practically memorizing what he needed to say in order to help the other with this particular scene.
“Okay, okay…one more time—then off to bed with you.” Leo stated before looking back at his other younger brothers, “You two too.”
“Pff…‘two too’” Raphael snickered to himself, starting to become a taaaad bit delirious due to the fact that it was ten minutes past midnight now.
The youngest walked into the middle of the room, getting into his character’s position before starting to say his lines. “W-Wow…look at…uh, this…place.” He uttered with no confidence whatsoever as he walked a little to the left of the room, dramatically gesturing to the sewer ceiling before fanning himself, his palms and face becoming as sweaty as those men in an Old Spice commercial.
“Where have…I…u-uh…s-seen this before…?” The shortest mutant out of the four was seriously panicking, the hours and weeks and months he dedicated to studying these lines seeming to have completely gone out the window in just a measly second. Why couldn’t he remember them? Why couldn’t he stop fumbling over his words like an idiot?
The orange hoodie wearing teen ran a shaky hand on his head, honestly wishing he was graced with the luxury that was hair so that he could rip every single strand out. “Fuck.” He hissed, glaring at the floor as if it was staring back at him, watching him make a complete fool out of himself.
The TV that the boys always forgot to turn off when they weren’t watching flashed colors that were so bright and so sharp, it made Mikey absolutely seethe with uncomfyness and uneasiness.
Leo’s pupils dilated with even more worry at the anxious gesture, “Mikey—”
“I’m fine.” The shortest snapped, way louder than he initially meant to; his chest burned and his eyes ached and he just felt so freaking stupid right now.
It was twelve twenty at night and he and Leo have been practicing Mikey’s lines back to front since they got back from school. And yet, he can’t say a single line without fumbling up the wording. “I can't. Just…Just forget it, Leo.” Michaelangelo said, taking the two scripts and stuffing it messily in his backpack, “I’m probably gonna mess this whole thing up, anyway…so why does it even matter?”
“No, you won’t.” Donnie stated his sentence like it was an obvious fact, “If you can memorize JoJo Siwa’s new song in the exact hour she posted it…I think you’ll be fine.” He smiled, sitting up straight to give his baby brother a reassuring smile but was met with a very excruciatingly harsh glare that reminded the coding geek of the feeling when he randomly woke up in the middle of the night and had to walk across the cold sewer floors to get a glass of water.
Oddly specific but honest to God that was what it felt like.
The youngest couldn’t help but glare at his immediate older brother’s truly unhelpful comment, rolling his eyes as he zipped his backpack shut while stuffing random things in it with unnecessary force. His anger tripled, which could be apparent in his very cold and now standoffish tone. “Preforming in front of the whole school and memorizing a song for fun isn’t the same thing, Donatello.”
Donnie, noticing almost immediately how increasingly upset the other was beginning to get, went over to his younger brother and reached out to touch his shoulder. “…I’m just trying to help, Mike. I-I was just…saying, y'know? I didn’t mean any harm by it. All I was trying to say is that you're good at memorizing stuff—”
“Can you just shut up?!” Mikey snapped, “Whatever it is you're trying to do? It’s not ‘helping!’” He shouted as he slapped his brother’s hand away before pointing straight at him, “You and Raph’s snarky little peas gallery comments never do.”
“The hell did I do???” Raphael squeaked from his bed—but went unnoticed as the two youngest turtles stared down at one another.
The smallest mutant turtle pursed his lips together almost like he was brutally swallowing whatever it was he was about to say. But after a while of just straight up stiff silence, his immediate older sibling quietly lowered his eyes, breaking eye contact with him as he took off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his snout. “Well, sorry.” The chestnut eyed teenager grumbled begrudgingly, fiddling with his glasses. “I didn’t mean to make you upset…seriously.”
The youngest ninja was breathing too fast, his heart thumping against his chest, the sounds of the lair still swirling around him and making him feel like his own skin was a tight jumpsuit. His hands shook as he set his backpack down, jaw clenched.
The two eldest turtles exchanged a worried look with one another, unsure if intervening would make things better or worse. But whatever the case, they were ready to step in between the younger two if fully necessary.
“Well, you did.” The orange cladded teen said as he put his backpack near him and his sibling’s shared drawer, “You don’t get what kind of pressure I’m under, Don...” He let out a humourless chuckle, grabbing his backpack again and getting back out his script, silently cursing himself for putting it in there in the first place when he knew he was planets away from memorizing it all.
The chestnut eyed mutant turtle let out a slow breath, forcing the sting he felt down and swallowing all the retorts he could’ve thrown back. “Mike, I think you need to go to sleep...” He quietly said.
Michaelangelo’s eyes widened at the suggestion, frustrated but also tired tears now stinging at the corners of his eyes as he looked away, flipping through the script pathetically, “No the hell I don’t. You need to go to sleep.” He grumbled, trying to ignore how his eyelids drooped.
Donnie looked at his immediate younger brother from head to toe, his jaw tightening at the useless comeback, “Mike…come on. You’re eyes are literally drooping—”
“—Dude, drop it!!!” The nunchuck user snapped, his voice cracking as he flipped another page too hard, the paper bending under his fingers. “I. said. I’m. fine. I don’t need to go to sleep right now.”
“Wehell, you’re clearly not ‘fine.’” The second youngest shot back, his voice low but sharp, stepping closer. “You’re exhausted, clearly stressed, and you’re pushing yourself…for…for what?! This is stupid!”
“Oh, so now it's ‘stupid’, huh?” Mikey’s eyes shined with angry tears, “Now what I care about is stupid to you, huh?! Is that it!?”
Frustration flashed across the tech whiz’s face, inwardly cringing at his bad choice of words. “I didn't say the musical was stupid, Angel…but the action you’re doing right now is.” He sighed, putting his glasses in his pajama pants pocket before speaking up again, “This musical…it's not worth destroying yourself over. I know you know you're tired and yet you're staying up past midnight studying! Sleep is crucial for learning and memory consolidation and you’re making yourself sick trying to prove something that no one is even asking you to—”
“—No! You don’t get it!!!” Mikey’s voice rose, a crack splitting through it as his tears finally spilled over, running down his cheeks. “None of you get it! You guys don’t know what it's like to constantly live in your guys’ shadow!”
Donatello’s eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth to shoot back something else, but the words died in his throat as he saw the tears run down his baby brother’s face.
The silence that followed was honestly worse than yelling—it was almost suffocating and the only sound everyone could hear clearly was the youngest’s staggered breaths.
Michaelangelo swallowed hard, his chest heaving as he glared down at his script, not even seeing the lines anymore due to the tears blurring his vision. He knew he was in the wrong. He knew it wasn’t fair to unfairly yell at any of his siblings, who he knew were only trying to help. But right now? He was too tired, too overwhelmed and too overstimulated to even care at this point.
The smallest of the four mutant turtles kept still in the middle of the room, his knees buckling in between one another as if standing up was a chore. He tried his best to suck in every sob that was threatening to spill from his mouth but his attempts were revealed to be fruitless as he cried anyway despite his efforts.
Mikey felt freaking awful. The words he had yelled at his siblings echoed in his head, louder than any light, TV show or…anything, really.
The orange themed teenager squeezed his eyes shut, immense guilt crawling up to his throat and making it borderline hard to swallow. He put his hood up over his head to try and seem as small as possible; almost small enough to disappear completely.
And maybe…just maybe, the guilt and shame he felt would disappear too.
A small, broken noise erupted in the small bedroom…so different from the loud laughter Leo, Raph and Donnie were used to. The youngest’s hands scrubbed at his face like he himself was a dirty dish beyond repair. He tried to hide the fact that he was crying by doing said action…but even that couldn’t stop the loud sob that followed, shaking him from the inside and out.
It was the kind of sound that made the room feel more tighter than it was…because well, it was Mikey; their sunshine, their loudmouth, the one who could find a joke in anything and everything. Seeing him—moreso hearing him like this—felt like something was tearing each one of them from the inside and out.
The purple themed teenager’s breath caught, his eyes softening as he closed the distance between him and his younger brother, gently putting him in a pressuring embrace. The amber eyed teen absolutely melted into the hug, resting his forehead on his brother’s shoulder as the two sank to the carpet, sitting down.
The younger’s sniffles were sharp in the silence, the paper in his hands crinkling and looking like an origami arts and crafts gone wrong.
“Mikey…” The second youngest tried with a softer tone of voice now, but his immediate younger brother just curled into himself, clutching the script to his chest like his own personal shield.
The shortest turtle’s breaths came out as shaky ones, his tears dripping on the crumpled pages that were once his neatly sectioned script and his immediate older brother’s hoodie. The amber eyed mutant’s shoulders hunched tighter, his head ducking down like he was trying to fold into himself to become nothing but a bare shell.
And his other siblings were right by his side almost immediately; Raphael on his right and Leo on his left, not too far but not too close.
“Hey…hey...” Leo sat quietly, a good distance away from the youngest as he tried to cease his panicking—knowing all too well what that felt like. His heart clenched as he heard the rasps and sobs, “Look at me, little brother.” He voiced calmly, “It’s okay, okay? I’m right here. Donnie’s right here…and even Raph’s here.” Leonardo attempted a small joke, not being able to help himself as a jab to his immediate younger brother was basically just handed to him on a silver platter.
“Wha—heyyyy…!” Raph whined.
Leonardo reached out slowly, carefully placing a steady hand over his little brother’s trembling ones, squeezing gently like the youngest had done for him so many times before.
“Breathe with me, okay? In—” Leo inhaled slowly, exaggerating the sound so the younger could hear it through the panic haze. “—And out…just like that. Good job, man.”
The two repeated the breathing exercises for a good couple of minutes, only fully stopping when Mikey confirmed about three times that he was ‘alright now’ from a clearly worried Leo.
The eldest held his hand still, giving affirming squeezes as the amber eyed turtle teen sniffled, wiping at his face with his other hand, “I’m so sorry, you guys…” He mourned, looking at his own lap in shame, “...I’m so so freaking sorry—”
“Hey, nuh uh; none of that.” Raph said quickly, “You don’t have to be sorry for feeling stuff.”
“No…i-it’s not that. I’m sorry for yelling at you guys. I-I was just s-so s-stressed and so freaking frustrated so I…” Michelangelo trailed off before inhaling and exhaling again…he was not going to have another meltdown tonight. “It wasn’t cool what I did. At all. You guys were just trying to help but I…” He sighed. “I-I dunno…I just got really pissed off at everything and everyone and then…boom: meltdown.” He grumbled, wiping his eyes with the palms of his hands yet again.
“I-I just…don’t wanna mess this up,” The youngest teen out of the four whispered, his voice breaking. “I just—I just wanna be good at something, y’know…?”
“Oh, Mikey…” Donnie’s eyes softened, his throat tightening as he gently rubbed the back of his sibling’s head. “I get it. I do. Sometimes everything just becomes too freaking much…and it feels like if one more annoying thing happens, you’re going to break. I get it, man.”
“We’re not mad at you, alright? I promise.” Leo said, shifting slightly as he gently rubbed the youngest ninja’s palms and carefully taking the script and putting it to the side. “But…can you tell us what led up to you feeling so overstimulated…?”
Michelangelo’s fingers fidgeted with the hem of Donatello’s sleeve, eyes dropping, “I-I dunno…” He muttered, but the tension in his shoulders said otherwise.
“It was just…everything.” The smallest finally whispered, “I know I know the lines. I know I can perform them and I know I can do this leading role. I just…” He sighed, “What if after all of this I still manage to mess everything up? What if I forget one line or trip onstage o-or freaking freeze up and everyone sees that I’m not as good as they think?”
“Hey…nobody thinks you're perfect, bub; they think you're awesome, which you most definitely are.” Raphael stated.
“But what if I still manage to ruin everything…?” Mikey muttered hopelessly.
“You’re not gonna ‘ruin’ anything.” Leonardo reassured, “And even if you do, we’ll still cheer for you the loudest out of everyone in the audience.”
Raph scooted a bit closer to his brothers; close enough that Mikey could feel the warmth of his presence even through his panic. The second oldest waited until his youngest sibling’s amber eyes flicked up to him, the both of them maintaining solid eye contact now.
“Look, Mikester—you’re prepping to step on that stage knowing all this stuff could go wrong, and you’re still doing it anyway. That’s badass.” The chocolate eyed mutant vocalized proudly. “You don’t have to run yourself ragged trying to prove anything to us, you hear me? You don’t have to make jokes all the time, or say the right thing or get every line perfect.”
Raphael gave his baby brother an expression only an older sibling could pull off, looking at him with compassion but genuine understanding. “You don’t gotta do a damn thing to be enough for us. You’re seen, you’re ours and that’s fucking it. There’s nothing you can do or mess up that is ever going to change that.”
The red themed teenager reached over, gently kissing the top of his little brother’s head, “And if something does go wrong, you’ve got backup. We’ll be in the front row—well, maybe not me ‘cause I forgot to reserve early—but I’ll yell loud enough from the doors.”
Mikey wiped away the remainder of his tears, letting out a small chuckle and sitting and leaning (aka: putting his entire bodyweight) against Donnie, who just hugged him tighter.
The youngest fixed his position on Donnie’s lap, turning away from him so that his shell was against the taller’s plastron. The taller in question still hugged the youngest tight, resting his chin atop of the other’s head, “I guess I’m putting too much pressure on myself, huh…?” The amber eyed teen said sheepishly.
Donatello huffed, “Yeah…no shit.”
The youngest mutant of the four huffed another small laugh, wiping at his eyes once more but his shoulders were still hunched and his gaze was fixed on the floor, shame suddenly flickering across his face.
Donnie noticed it almost immediately—the way Mikey’s hands fidgeted, pulling at a loose thread on his sleeve and the quiet guilt still sitting heavy in his eyes.
Donnie’s gaze flicked to Leo and Raph, a silent conversation passing between them all.
Leo raised an amused brow.
Raph smirked.
And Donnie nodded his head simply.
With that, the second youngest lifted his younger brother’s wrists with one hand, guiding the other’s forearms to rest on his shoulders, letting them settle there. The purple themed turtle’s other hand stayed free, brushing lightly over the smaller’s side.
Mikey’s breath hitched at the sudden poke, his eyes widening as he saw the expressions of his older brothers morph into expressions of chaos as the two oldest’s started inching their way towards him.
The amber eyed teenager let out a pitiful whine, trying to twist free from his current endeavour, “Wait! Wahahait!!! L-Leo ihit's pahahast ten thirty! W-Weehee should really gehet to behed!”
The eldest of the four put his index finger on his chin in a fake pondering movement, “I think I can ignore Dad’s curfew rule juuuuuust this once…” He finished, now wiggling his fingers as he stepped closer as did Raph.
Mikey’s lips curled into a giddy grin in spite of himself, “Waitwaitwait!!!” He cried, pulling on his wrists that were still detained by his immediate older brother, “Deehee nonono l-lehehemme gohoh!”
“Mm…nah.” Donnie smiled simply, squeezing Mikey’s side that made the younger let out a loud squeal, trying (and failing) to kick at his older brothers who casually made their way over to him.
Raph sat at Mikey’s lower body while Leo sat at his torso, causing him to hide his face in his forearm as he continued to flail around like the Giant Jello-O Mold from Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. “N-Nohononohoh!!!” He squeaked.
The honey brown eyed teenager rolled his eyes fondly at the squealy pleases, hovering his hands over Mikey’s stomach which caused the youngest to scream pure bloody murder as he dug his heels into the carpet and shook his head frantically, “PLEHEASE!!!”
“Just tell us when to stop, okay?” Leonardo’s heart swelled in complete and utter love and fondness, not being able to hold back the teasing smile stretching to his features and playfulness slipping into his tone.
Michelangelo comically gulped, “OHO—squeak! Ohokahay…”
The youngest bit the inside of his cheek, trying to hold back his laughter but that plan only lasted for about 0.2 seconds before Leo lightly pinched at his baby brother’s sides, making the amber eyed mutant let out a breathy squeal—said squeal descending to a small snort as Raph now tickled his foot.
The tickles were gentle and slow…and they were making Mikey go freaking mad, “YoHOU guHUHuys ahare sahaHAH!! S-Sohoh meeheean!!!”
“Yeheah…we’re soooo mean…” The tech whiz chuckled as he lightly tickled under his immediate younger sibling’s chin, which made his immediate younger sibling in question purely melt. The older brother’s touches stayed gentle, scribbling lightly at Mikey’s tickle spots, enough to keep the laughter flowing but never too much to overwhelm the youngest completely.
Michelangelo squirmed more helplessly, his happy laughter bouncing off the bedroom walls as he hiccuped and squealed through as the tension in his shoulders melted.
“There it is…” Leo grinned, “That’s the Angel we know.”
“I-Ihit tihIHIckles!” Mikey squawked, his legs kicking frantically and almost punting Raphael square in the face. But thankfully, the second oldest effortlessly dodged the kicks, carefully pinning Mikey’s ankles to the carpet and scribbling his fingers over the youngest’s arches. “Watch the face, Michelangelo.”
“Ihihi’m SORRY!!! Ihihi’m saharry!!!” The shortest teenager apologized, “Ihi cahAHAn’t—HAHA! Hehelp ihit!” He cried as his red themed brother mischievously poked the top of his knees while still tickling his feet, “RAHAHAPH!!!”
“What, Angel?” The tallest turtle teen snickered, “I thought you wanted us to tickle you!”
Mikey’s face flushed at the blunt wording, squeezing his eyes shut as he shook his head stubbornly as his laugh increased in pitch.
“No? You didn't want us to tickle you? Are you sure~?” Raphael teased as he snuck a hand underneath Mikey’s knee, barely scribbling.
Mikey let out a loud shriek at the tickly action, trying to pull his arms down to protect his tickle spots but Donnie firmly kept the smaller’s arms pinned, making the youngest flop around in his lap like a fish out of water.
“NohoHOH! Duhude pluhEEHEEASE squeal nahat thaha—squeal! THEHEHERE!!” Mikey giggled hysterically.
“Not the knees? You sure~? I remember this being one of your favorite spots when you were little...” Raphael crooned.
“LEEHEEHEEOHOH!!!” Mikey giggly groaned, “GehEHEhet RaHAHAphie toohoo staHA—hic! Stahop tEEHEEasing meeheheh!”
The oldest’s grin only grew at the graffiti artist’s complaints, slightly increasing the intensity of his tickles, “I dunno, Mikester…The Tickle Monster is kinda preoccupied with tickling your sides at the moment.”
“NOHOHOH!!” The wildcard shrilled, “Shuhut UHUHUP!! DOHON’T CAHAHALL YOURSEHEHELF THAHAT!”
“‘Shut up???’” The honey eyed mutant gasped in an ironically theatric manner, “Well! That’s not nice at all! I’m offended!” Leo said as he suddenly switched to skittering his nails fast along Mikey’s stomach. The youngest gasped at the new sensation before doubling over in even louder laughter, trying to curl in on himself but to no avail.
“Whohoa…The Tickle Monster found a good spot, huh?” Raph meanly commented, continuing to tickle the younger’s knees and feet like lightwork.
“IHI squeal SAHAID huHUSH UHUAHAH!!”
“All I did was make a comment! Yeesh! Can’t say nothing nowadays.” Raph said as a large and even more mischievous grin spread across his face as he cracked his knuckles playfully and walked over to sit across from Leo, moving his fingers slowly down to Michelangelo’s hips.
“NONO WAHAHAIT!!!” Mikey’s eyes hilariously almost flew out of their sockets, his eyeballs widening as he tried to thrash away from Raph’s evil finger wiggling, only to give the eldest more access to tickle his stomach. “IHI’M snrk SOHORRY!!!”
The second oldest rolled his eyes fondly, still keeping up the agonizingly slow pace of his finger wiggling, “Nuh-uh. The Giggle Bandit doesn’t want to hear any half assed apologizes.” He said as he gently circled the youngest ninja’s hips with his thumb.
The reaction was almost immediate as the youngest out of the four arched his back, bursting into a (greek) chorus of loud laughter, “OHO squeak FUHUHUCK!! OHOHOH MYHY GAHA—squeal! EEEHEEHEH!!! NOHOT THE HIPS!!” He howled, honestly really surprised that their Dad hasn’t checked up on them at least once this entire night due to his volume.
“Oho yes the hips!” Raphael completely gushed, speeding up the pace of the thumb circling, all three older brothers slightly wincing as the youngest let out a genuine scream of cackles.
“DEE!!!” The nunchuck wielder yelled, “LAHAH—snrk! LeHET GOHOH AHAnd mAHAHAke theHEHEM STAHAP IHAT!!!”
The tech whiz tilted his head to the side, scribbling his fingers under Mikey’s exposed arms, ignoring the loud shriek the youngest let out in result, “Dee? Who’s Dee?” He questioned.
“NAHAH—hic! NOOOOOHOHOH! NahAHAT yohou TOOHOO!” Mikey whined through his shouts as he pounded his feet helplessly into the carpet, squirming like a worm getting hit with sunrays.
“I’m…The Chuckle Collector! Mwahahah!!!” Donnie exclaimed in the best Terminator voice he could muster before burying his face into the crook of his baby brother’s neck and bestowing raspberry after raspberry after affectionate raspberry, each and every one sending the orange cladded ninja into squealy fits of laughter, just laying limp against his older brother as his feet continued to fight with the air.
The two oldest didn’t stop their tickling but looked at each other before looking up at Donatello with the same exact expression that screamed disappointment.
“Get the fuck out…what kinda fuckass name is that?” Raph squinted at his immediate younger sibling like he himself needed glasses; but no pair of lenses would help him see the amount of bullshit that was in front of him as of right now.
“What are you talking about?! It’s cool!” The IT guy said in between each raspberry he gave to the youngest.
“Noooo…it’s really not.” The second oldest quickly corrected without a beat passing by. “Leo has the OG name, I have The Giggle Bandit…meanwhile you're…The Chuckle Collector…?” Raph couldn’t help but laugh at the corniness, “Seheriously, man?
“Do you collect people’s laughs like how The Ghostbusters use The Proton Pack to collect ghosts?” Leo snickered as he and Raph shared a fistbump before digging back into Mikey’s giggle spots.
“You two suck...” Donnie pouted, dropping his raspberry attack and instead pinching at the amber eyed teenager’s ribs. “…See how these two are treating Le Chuckle Collector, Michael?”
Mikey just screamed through his bubbly cackles, his eyes squeezing shut as his heels practically became one with the floor. “AHALL OF YOHOU SUCK!!” The youngest went back to uselessly twisting and turning, his back involuntarily arching, “YOHOU—PFF—GUHUHUYS SAHA—squeal! SUHUCK SOHOH BAD!!!”
But then suddenly, all the tickles came to an immediate…stop, allowing Mikey to catch his breath and recollect himself. But as the youngest did so, he soon realized that he was still pinned by his immediate older brother, signifying that his older brothers were not done with him quite yet...
…The silence...was tremendously loud.
Michelangelo looked at his Thing One and Thing Two color-schemed brothers, who honestly looked 101% determined to make him eat his words as three course meals…
…Fucking shit.
Mikey gulped, hiding his face a little bit in his shell as he looked at the two pleadingly, “I-Ihi dihidn’t meheean ihit…?”
“Mm…no. No, you did.” The second oldest stated, “But that’s okay! ‘Cuz we’ve been meaning to say something too.”
“We made a band.” Donnie said—that sentence alone causing Mikey to propel his feet in the air and try to ascend into the sky, knowing the hidden truth behind his older brother’s announcement. “G-Guhuhuuuuuys!!! Ihi’m sorry! Ihihi’m sohoh soHOH sAHARRY!! Y-You guys dohon’t suck! I-Ihi lohohove yohou guys s-sohoh mhuhuch, pretty pleeheeheease dohon’t do thihihis!” The youngest half heartedly begged.
“Hush, Mikey! I’m introducing my fellow band mates.” Donatello quickly shushed, causing the smallest mutant to just let out a small groan, accepting his fate, “Ohoh myhy gahahaaash...”
“We have The Tickle Monster, playing the drums. The Giggle Bandit on the keyboard and yours truly…The Chuckle Collector playing the tuba.” Donnie gestured to each of the ‘band members’ before pointing to himself, making Mikey just completely giggle at the silliness that was unfolding before him.
“That’s such a weird combo…” The smallest ninja mumbled to himself but bit his cheek and turned away as the IcyHot duo situated themselves so that Leo was on Mikey’s side and Raph was back to Mikey’s knees.
“You ready~?” Raph questioned with a terrifyingly evil chuckle.
Mikey erupted into giddy giggles, pressing his face down further into his forearm and bracing himself for what was to come. “N-Nohoh..nahat reheeheeally...”
Donnie beamed, “Great! Count us off then, Mikester.”
“B-Buhut Leo’s the druhuhummer! Heeheehee shohould cohount yohou guhuhuys off!” Mikey whined as he drilled his feet to the ground for the millionth time.
Leonardo merely shrugged, giving his little brother a big and stupid smile, “Nah, I’m good—aaaaall yours, little bro.”
Michaelangelo made a last final attempt to set himself free from the tech whiz’s grasp before sighing loudly, slumping in the hold. “Ohone…two…a one two three foHOHOUR!! FUHUHUCK?! Squeal!!! OHO hic hic HOLY SHIIIIHIHIT!!!” If Mikey was screaming before, he was absolutely howling now. As the youngest finished counting down, his older brothers wasted no time attacking his worst spots and being VERY mean about it.
Leo blew fatal raspberries on his baby brother’s plastron while also sneakily poking and batting his sides, resembling the motion a drummer would do.
Raph was quickly skittering his fingers on the back, top and sides of Mikey’s knees and thighs, reenacting a very melodramatic piano motion.
And Donnie just hugged Mikey softly, blowing raspberries on the crooks of his neck.
And the youngest teenager out of the four? He went absolutely ballistic at the newfound tickly sensations along his body, flapping his hands on the top of Donnie’s shell as he shrieked like a boiling kettle. “AHAHAHA—SNRT! FUCK! N-NOHOHOH!!!” He cackled, happy tears starting to form in his eyes.
“Poor, ticklish souuuuul~!” Leo horribly sang, conveniently creating a parody of ‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’ from The Little Mermaid.
“Your laugh…is ouuuuurs~!” Raph chimed in, sounding like he just finished recording Bette Davis Eyes (Jojo’s version, though).
The two eldest then shared a look once more before glancing at Donnie with a whole new wave of disappointment only an older brother could pull off. Donatello just sighed slowly at the familiar but still annoying stares, ceasing his tuba solo and staring back at his older brothers. “Why are you two looking at me like that?”
Raphael clucked his tongue, sighing, “It’s your turn to think of a lyric, duh!”
“GUHUHUYS IHI—BAHAHA!! Squeal CAN’T!!!” Mikey loudly interrupted as he banged his feet along the floor, “YOHOU squeal GUHUHUYS!!” He cackled as his brothers just continued tickling him, “YOHOU’RE LITERALLY KAHAH—PFF—KIHILLING MEEE!!” Mikey threw his head back on Donnie’s shoulder, happy tears falling down his face.
“We would never!” The second oldest grinned, narrowing his eyes at Leo, “If anything Leo would be the first turtle we’d kill.”
“WHAT!?” Leo gawked.
“You're the oldest; you’d die first anyway regardless.” Raph shrugged matter-of-factly.
The honey eyed turtle’s mouth morphed into a strained smile, looking at his immediate younger brother, “I’m the oldest by barely a second; I feel like you all forget we’re all quadruplets.”
“It's easy to forget when you have more wrinkles than fucking Carl Fredickson.” The red themed turtle winced.
The eldest’s eye twitched, “Shut up, you fetus.”
“GUHUHUHUYS!!!” Michelangelo wheezed.
“Yessssss, Mikey~?” All three older brothers sang.
“WAHAH—SNRK! PLUHUHEASE!! PLEEEEEHEEEASE!!!” The shortest turtle out of the four borderline cackled so hard he felt like the city dwellers above could hear him at this point.
“I dunno…I’m still kinda butthurt you said we all sucked.” Leonardo fake pouted.
“I-IHI’M SOHORRY!! IHIHIHI’M SORRY!!!” Mikey sputtered out desperately, “OHO MY GOHOHOSH!!! I GIHIVE!!! IHI GAHA—SQUEAL! GIVE! STOHOPSTOPSTOP!!! IHIT TIHIHICKLES SOHOH BAHAD!!!”
As the other three retracted their hands, Mikey gasped for air trying to catch his breath, small chuckles slipping out as the last of his giggles fizzled in his chest.
Raph watched the youngest for a moment, something soft and relieved crossing his face—then, without warning, he reached forward and scooped Mikey into a bear hug, lifting him off Donnie’s lap with a tired grunt.
“R-Rahahaph!!!” The graffiti artist yelped, squirming half-heartedly.
“Just c’mere.” Raphael muttered, pressing a kiss to his baby brother’s head, then another to his cheek, then another to his temple, smothering him in warm affection.
“Raaahahaphie…!” Michelangelo whined through embarrassment but a soft and sleepy laugh cracked through as his older brother kissed his forehead again.
“Look…just don’t say stuff like that about yourself again or I will tickle you so bad you’ll see the pearly gates early. Capeesh?” The sai wielder said, kissing the top of Mikey’s head once more before hugging him tighter, swaying him slightly as he did so.
Mikey melted against his older brother, his arms finally wrapping around Raph’s broad shoulders and dropping his head onto the red themed turtle’s plastron with a tired sigh. “‘Cahaposh...” He mumbled.
“Ahalright, you two, that’s enough,” Leo said, appearing with a small, patient smile, arms crossed as he watched the two. “It’s 12:55. Bed. All of us. Now.”
“Yeah, yeah, Nardo…” Raph muttered as he let go of the youngest, crashing in his bed and without a second thought and went out like a light. The remaining awake turtles giggled at the quick action, fondly sighing and shaking their heads.
Donnie gently ruffled Mikey’s head, giving the smaller a kiss on the head before going inside of his tent, going under his covers and situating himself for the night.
“Leo…?” Mikey mumbled, half-asleep as he climbed to the ‘top bunk’ and went under his covers with practiced precision, holding his pillow against his chest out of pure comfort, “Next time you guys tickle the hell out me…you all should carry me to my bed; my legs feel like yours.”
The older turtle chuckled at the quip, rolling his eyes. “Says the one with knee braces—also, please take them off before you fall asleep.”
“Shuhut uhup…” Mikey giggled but did what he was told, taking off his knee braces and chucking them across the room, the braces landing at the bedroom entrance with a small thud.
Eh…he’d pick them up in the morning.
And as the four teenager’s abode quieted for the night (well, morning now technically), Raph snored away with one leg dangling off of his bed while Donnie put on his headphones to listen to the ‘K-Pop Demon Hunters’ soundtrack (surprise surprise) before falling soundly asleep.
Leonardo yawned into his palm, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Mikey, ensuring that the youngest of them all would go to sleep with laughter still in his chest and warmth pressed close around him, “I love you, Angel. Good night.”
“‘Night, LDC. I love you too.” Michaelangelo laid flat on his bed, glancing at his script completely forgotten and buried by all the chaos that unfolded...
…That was what caused him to have a meltdown?
Girl fucking bye.
Mikey’s body still tingled faintly with the warmth of physical affectionation—Raph’s crushing hug, Leo’s steady hand-holding and Donnie’s understanding of needing pressure. The youngest ninja could still feel the lingering ghosts of their laughter, the gentle teasing and the tickles meant not to overwhelm him, but to anchor him back to them.
His breathing rose and fell slowly, finally even now as his mind drifted through the night like a film reel behind his amber eyes.
The panic had come so…fast. Too fast. Everything had been too much—the lights, the pressure of being great, the noise, the expectations...
Michelangelo tried to see the humor in the situation—like he always did; trying to weakly prove that he was the easy-going one…or the funny one. But instead, it got tangled in his chest, and when he couldn’t keep up the act, everything came crashing down.
And still…his older brothers hadn’t walked away.
The orange themed turtle rolled onto his side, burying his cheek into his pillow, his throat still sore from crying but his heart felt strangely light.
They had stayed.
Even when he snapped. Even when he said the wrong thing. Even when he couldn’t explain why it hurt. His brothers had seen him—really seen him—and they didn’t need him to say the perfect words to understand him.
Mikey closed his eyes, letting the quiet settle into his bones. He wasn’t just ‘the youngest.’ He wasn’t just a tagalong or the comic relief and he didn’t have to shout to be noticed or joke to be loved.
He was Michelangelo Splinterson. And that was enough.
He still had dreams—loud, wild, colorful ones. He still wanted to prove himself, not because he had to…but because he could. He would make his mark, carve out his own path—not in his brothers’ shadows, but right alongside them.
And with that, the weight in his chest lifted a little more as he let go of the day, drifting off at last.
©𝚂𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚎𝚝𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚜𝚞𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚎, 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟻. 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔 𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚎. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝, 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚙𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝙰𝙸, 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚣𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚢. 𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞.
