#m team

[fevertowrite]

let the bean love

[flaux-pg]

22. "Can I open my eyes yet?" M TEAM EHEHE,,, have fun flaux :D.

"Can I open my eyes yet?“

Behind him, Raph groans. This little theater is a tangible test to his patience. Donnie can practically feel him glaring daggers at his shell. They must have cut short a punching bag session in the living room.

“No!” From the sounds of it, Mikey bounces up and down a few feet in front of him. “That’s the point of a surprise, brah!”

“Okay, fine.” Donnie can’t help but laugh a little. Just being up and about has him in a good mood. And a week after what they call the ‘Alien Crystal Incident’, he’s glad they’ve let him out of bed altogether.

“We’re almost there,” says Leo as he guides him, both steady hands placed on Donnie’s shoulders.

By the time they reach the small set of stairs, the scent of Isopropyl alcohol, mechanic oil and old, stale coffee gives the lab away. But Donnie remains quiet. Inconspicuous. Michelangelo is too excited about this. He will not ruin whatever ‘surprise’ his brothers have prepared for him.

There’s steps and rearrangement of things as Leonardo shifts away from him to place himself into his line of vision. Then Mikey adds, “Okay, now you can open them!”

Donnie does. And he freezes.

“Tada!” Mikey raises both arms in the air gesturing at his usual now spotless work-space.

“… Wow.” He forces the corners of his lips up into a smile. “This is-” Horrible, horrible, horrible! 

This is the worst kind of violation of privacy. Did they realize how dangerous these chemicals are? Had they used the right equipment to handle the more volatile, toxic ones? Had they placed them in a safe spot considering each chemical’s specific properties, the environment conditions they require and- Oh God. He’s never gonna find anything. It had taken him months to alphabetically catalog every single tool, beaker, substance, salvageable part - He has a system! 

Donnie breathes in and out. “Great, guys. Thanks.”

Leo crosses his arms over his chest, a pleased gleam shines behind his mask. “Yeah, we figured after the mess the Crystal caused, it’s the least we could do.”

Donatello makes all effort to hide the grimace behind a straight, relaxed facade. So this is what’s it’s about. A ‘I’m glad you’re not dead’ gift. Part of him wants to either moan or burst out laughing. The rest can’t blame them. After getting napped by a mobster gang, surviving exploding buildings and being molecularly scattered, it hasn’t exactly been his month. In fact, Donatello’s surprised they haven’t done something like this sooner.

“Thanks.” It’s all he says through clenched teeth.

“Okay, okay!” Mikey hops in front of him. He holds one of his white-erase markers as if it is a microphone. “But that’s not all! Raph, show Donnie what else he has won. Let’s take a look behind door number two!”

Please don’t let it be the Shellraiser. Not my son. Or the Stealthbike or – Donnie forces his face into a neutral expression and whirls around. He’s not ready for another surprise.

There’s no door number two. Thank the stars.

Raphael rolls his eyes. He stomps towards Donnie and simply drops a box in his hands. “There, Happy Mutation Day.” He leans sideways to catch a glimpse at Leonardo. “Can I go now?”

“No way, dude!” Mikey interrupts turning Donnie around so he’s facing all three of them and pushed the newspaper wrapped gift towards his plastron. “He has to open it first! Come on Dee, open it! Open it!”

Okay, who gave Mikey sugar? He hasn’t been this excited since he found Leo’s secret stash of animal cookies.

Donnie swallows. Better get it over with. He tears apart the newspaper wrapping and lets it fall at his feet.

Fingers meet a smooth, cool surface that squeaks with every touch. His eyes widen at the sight of the thin plastic layer surrounding the packaging. This… this gift wasn’t scavenged. It wasn’t rescued from the junkyard like his usual Christmas presents. He turns around the bright blue and white box to find the product’s name in shinny, thick orange font. Right underneath the company’s slogan, a single photograph of his present’s contents pops into view-

His heart stops.

He looks directly at Raphael.

“Do you love it?!” Mikey intervenes. “Tell me you love it ‘cuz we all pitched in and Casey went to the store and-”

“I love it.”

Michelangelo squeals in delight and before Donnie knows what’s happening his little brother shoves himself against his plastron for a quick hug. Then he steps away and starts swinging himself back and forth on his toes. “I knew it! Techy stuff never fails! High-three, Raph!”

Raphael sighs at first, but moves forward to grant Mikey’s request nonetheless.

“All right!” says Mikey completely satisfied with himself as he salutes them all. His voice turns deep and serious. “My job here is done.”

He marches as he exits the lab.

A beat of silence.

“He didn’t find my poptarts, did he?”

There’s a look of grim acceptance from Leonardo as he shakes his head. “Splinter’s white chocolate coated Pocky.”

Michelangelo is a goner.

A clank, metallic and loud, comes from the kitchen within seconds. After a cat-scream and a sheepish 'Oops, sorry Kitty,’ Mikey’s voice reaches their ears, “I’ll fix that! Don’t worry, everything’s fine!”

Leo sighs. “I’m gonna make sure the kitchen’s in one piece.”

Immortal words from the guy who sets it on fire at least once a month.

“Seriously, Donnie,” says Leo stopping on his tracks to place a comforting hand on Donnie’s shoulder. “We’re glad you’re okay.”

And Donnie feels himself smiling at Leo’s retreating shell.

Then it’s just Raph and him in the lab. For a moment Donnie stands stupidly there. And Raph does the same. Donnie glances down at his gift then back at his immediate older brother. Now understanding perfectly why he had wanted to leave before he opened the present. His thumb brushes over the clear picture on the box. It’s not the most advanced technology. Not anymore. Which is also probably why they could afford it. But Donnie doesn’t mind. Just the fact that Raph remembered sends a warm wave inside his chest. It spreads through every limb and puts a soft smile in Donnie’s features.

“Raph-”

“Look.” Raphael jabs a finger in his direction. “Before you get all mushy on me this was Mikey’s idea so there’s no need to-”

“Is this the next-generation cadmium processor with quantum encryption?”

Raph stops talking. He might as well be in another place. Another time. The memory of a night, that now seems to belong to someone else, a lifetime ago. A lost part of their lives, when everything was simpler, their food toned greener and yet, their smiles somehow bloomed faster. And he must have been thinking the same thing, as he he mumbles the next words barely meeting his eyes.

“I don’t know, Donnie, is it?”

“It is.”

[fevertowrite]

16. Raph and Donnie

‘C'mon, look at me! Don’t close youreyes, okay?’

“Raph!Watch out!” Without hesitation, Donnie ran forward to him and shoved him out ofthe way. A bang followed, then silence.  

After that it was blurs,red and green blurs jumbled, and he closed his eyes to get rid of thedizziness. A hand, a pair of them, lifted him up to be sitting—againstsomething, concrete? The strong pair of hands released, and Donnie was havingtrouble focusing on the world. Focusing on his own thoughts was becoming hard.

His chest hurt, andweakly, eyes still close, he pressed his finger on it. It was sticky, thickliquid, and when he opens his eyes, it was red. It didn’t register to him, nor thefact there was fighting, somewhere around him.

His head was becomingheavy like lead, and head slacked to his shoulder.

 “Donnie?” Don’s ears were ringing, and someone put something on his chest andapplied pressure.

 All Donnie couldrespond was a hiss.

Raph, heart deafening hisears, stomach twisting and sweat beading, became frantic. “C’mon, look at me!”He didn’t mean to yell, it came out of no where. He shouldn’t be yelling, buthis brother—

Donnie opened his eyes, glazedwith pain and exhaustion, but it was good enough for Raph. “Don’t close youreyes, okay?” He said more softly, the brown eyes hazily looking at him then tohis chest. Blood dribbling down his chin, but Raph wiped it away.

 “Stay awake,Donnie, okay? Just stay with me, bro.” He pressed his forehead against Donnie,his words drowning to a breath.

 “Wha’ happs?” Donnie’swords were slur and inconsistent, but Raph understood.

 “You’ve been shot,c’mon, I’m gonna carry you home!” Donnie shook his head, head sagging down onceagain, eyes closing, but Raph held his chin up.

 “Stay awake,Donnie.” Raph repeated and his hand grabbed Donnie’s and made the pale handpress against the wound. “I need you to hold your wound so I can get you home.”

 The weak, slurred responseof “’kay,“ was all that Raph needed, and then spun around, he grabbedDonnie’s unoccupied hand and positioned it over his shoulder, then he grasped bothhis legs and lifted him up on his shell.

 Donnie stayed quietas Raph adjusted his legs and arms around. Donnie laid his head on his shoulderas he felt Raph ran.

 “’Anks Raphhh,”Donnie’s words hung, his hand squeezing Raph’s arm tenderly. 

 “No need to thankme bro, you saved my life.” Raph told him, “And I’m just returning thefavor.” 

[fevertowrite]

3. Donnie & Raph

‘Do you actually leave your office and sleep?’

Aftermath of ‘Slash and Destroy’

“Do you actually ever leave your office lab and sleep?”

Donnie scrubbed his eyes, turning with narrow, dissipated eyes at Raph.

“Isn’t it ironic you’re asking me this, when you’re up nowtoo?”  He responded, turning backto face his dimmed laptop.

“I’m not the one with a sprained arm, Brainiac.” Raph firedback, arms crossing each other. “You should go to bed, Donnie, it’sthree in the morning.”

“Raph.” Donnie pinched in between his eyes, frustrated.Something he always done when frustrated, and Raph caught on quick. “Leave mealone, it’s been a long night. I’m stressed, and you should know this helps merelax.”

Raph’s frustrated now and grunting he walked forward to where he was,and slammed the laptop shut. Hearing a dissatisfied yelp, and a series of angrymurmurs, Raph turned to glance at him. “All you need is to sleep, you dork. Youwere beaten up like a pulp! Your body needsto rest…”

The evidential of bruises and scrapes, was something that Donniecouldn’t hide. What Raph said, was right, he was beaten up like a pulp, like arag-doll.

Now, pouting, Donnie made a pitiful grunt. “I’ll rest afterI finish this–“

“You’re resting now, Donnie.”

“I can’t.” Donnie whispered, his eyes glancing down.

“Why not?” Raph’s tone rose, and head tiled up demanding anexplanation.

“I have to work on theretro-mutagen. Spike turned to Slash and, you… lost a friend, Raph. I want tofix that.” He didn’t look up, but Raph didn’t need to see Donnie’s face to knowhe was accusing himself of this incident.

 Raph wanted Spike back,but Donnie shouldn’t be staying up all night and overworking himself for it. Causeof them both, Spike was now Slash, and went to harm his brothers’. Spike was a lost cause.

“Donnie…”

Donnie looked up at Raph, eyes gleaming with tears, andRaph, all he did, was stare. It was never easy to put together the proper words, and hedidn’t want to screw it up.

After what appeared like a pitiful long moment, Raph leaned in tohug his brother. He missed Spike, but, perhaps this was for the best.

“You dork.” Raph said, after releasing the hug and rubbed hiseyes. “You don’t have to do this, Donnie. It’s okay, I only want you torest.”

What seemed like eternity, Donnie gave him a timid nod. Raphwrapped his arm around Donnie’s back neck, and helped him up.

“I’m gonna make him a cure, one day, Raph.” Don mumbledsuddenly, and gave him a small hopeful smile.

“I know ya will, bro. Just not tonight. Not when you’re healing.”

[fevertowrite]

M Team 15. “That was a perfect example of how not to do things.” HAVE FUN.

Donnie couldn’t help but bury his face with the palmsof his hands. His groan muffled, and he gazes up to see Raph breaking what hewanted to fix, even more.

“Raph,” Donnie said, lines appearing on his foreheadfrom frustration, and he walks forward to yank the wrench out of his immediateolder brother’s hand.  “That was aperfect example of how not to dothings.” And by thing, he meant toaster, because it was still in dismantlepieces and Raphael willingly came forwardto help, which clearly spelled bad news. He was twisting everything inincorrectly and cluttering up the nails that will be soon useless.

“What the hell, Don.” Raph turned around, and hishands form into fists. “I was being a good brother, and tried helping you outand you do this?” His eyes narrowed,huffing with obvious irritation.

“What you were doing was breaking the toaster evenmore!” Donnie squawks out, kind of awkward, but his hands go up in the airand even with the wrench in his right hand he puts both hands on his head. “Ican do it myself, Raph.” He murmurs, his voice weakening, his hands droppingand shoulders slumping. He could always do it by himself. He has been for years. Don didn’t understand why Raphsuddenly wanted to help, his brother was the muscle not the brains of the team.

“Well, Leo isn’t going to help ya.” Raph mutters and evenwith the hint of anger, Donnie can easily note how Raph’s eyes soften and hestarts to regret being too harsh.

“We always break stuff, and you’re always fixing. Ithought if I helped, you’ll have more time to do things Leo’s forcing you todo. And hey, Leo breaks this toasterlike every month, I just… felt bad.” Raph shrugged like it was no big deal, butto Donnie it was a huge deal. Hedoesn’t remember when he even slept. Not only is he working on the Party Wagonthat’s been partially exploded and torn, but he’s also been working on thingsfor the lair. Because someone always has to break them and it’s meant forDonnie to pick up the broken things and fix it.

 Donnie’s eyes showsudden remorse, and the wrench nearly falls from his lax fingers. “Here.” Afirm line is formed from his lips, and he hands Raphael the wrench. “I canshow you a few things to fix in case if something happens to me.”

Raph turned to Donnie, his lips tugging to a smile. “Theonly thing that’s going to happen to you is being knocked out if you try sassingme once again.” And with that, Raph scoots the chair forward, and waited for Donnie’swords to fix the toaster that Leo has managed to break. 

[fevertowrite]

Bonding with the Prisoner

I wrote a thing for @flaux-pg for being the best and isn’t annoyed of me yet.

This takes place in her AU In Another Lifetime, Maybe, which you can read, here.

Summary: For someone who works in the Foot, Raphael is surprised when he finds out that Turtle doesn’t know how to fight. 

You probably won’t understand this without reading her story, so just a btw, and it’s a drabble that kinda takes place in chapter 8. Since I can’t do fanart, I did fanwrite (?) instead. Do people even do this?

“So, what? Your Master didn’t teach you to fight? You are part of the Foot.” Raph tells him, and his wrists flick to a hand position that Turtle easily spots on as in confusion.

 Turtle usually stares at hands, and it wasn’t a peculiar thing at all. Growing up with learning ASL, he frequently makes more hand-contact than eye-contact.

 “Yes.” Turtles replies, and for a second Raph’s thrown over which part the Turtle answered. “I am part of the Foot, and no, Raphael. Master did not teach us to fight.” He aches to reveal that Master didn’t even raised them, but as much as he begins to trust Raphael, he doesn’t desire to divulge about his life. He wishes to learn more about Raphael’s.

 “So,” Turtle sits down, tapping the makeshift crutch as his brown eyes glance up at Raphael’s emerald ones. “how long have you been doing this, Ninjutsu?” It sounds force and dull, but as he draws up his knee to embrace, and to put his chin on it. He gives a small smile.

 Raphael hasn’t seen Turtle smile, not like Buddy at least. He craves to cross his arms and give Turtle a smug look like he does with Leo, but he doesn’t desire to pull the stitches from his shoulder and he wasn’t feeling all too good to be making out a smug look.

 “I’ve been doing it since I learned how to walk.” Raph replies, and it isn’t all too gruff sounding as he was convinced it was going to be.

 Turtle looks so invested over that, and his eyes are illuminated like a child watching T.V. for the first time. Raph finds it adorable.

 “Really?! That’s–,” he stops himself, and Turtle’s shoulder sags with misery, and the fact how loud he was getting was overwhelming. He doesn’t need any one hearing him… bonding with the prisoner. He’s going to have another limb broken or worse, Ototo needs him and he can’t be fooling around.

 “That’s really cool, Raphael.” He softens his statement, but have a trace of enthusiasm. “But you fight, offensively. I don’t particularly like that. Fighting should be purely for self-defense.” He remarks in a geek-up voice, and Raph rolls his eyes.

 “Of course, we fight in self-defense, Pal.” He wants Turtle to have a name, calling him Pal wasn’t really helping with anything.

 Turtle shifts nervously, and even with the bad leg, he’s moving a lot. Raphael feels like he was going to regret his words, but still lead to utter them; “Do you want me to… teach you a few moves?”

 Like a found puppy, Turtle bolts from his slouching posture and offers a genuine smile. “Really?” He asks in a pleasing tone, and Raphael can make out the gap in his teeth but doesn’t asks how that occurred.

 “Yeah.” Raph replies bluntly, and then his hand motions, “come sit next to me.” 

 It takes a while, and Turtle’s gasping in pain. Raph wants to help, but he too is injured and could risk exposing his shoulder wound. He stares in remorse and attempts to scoot forward so Turtle doesn’t have to walk to where he is. And Raph was positive he was drugged with medication because no freaking way was he supporting the enemy. But Turtle and Buddy were unique. They were like him and Leo, turtles.

 Once Turtle could sit, with a few hisses of pain. Raphael grabs his wrists, and he views that Turtle flinches at the contact, but doesn’t desire to mention anything.

 “Okay so,” Raph folds Turtle’s fingers to make into a first, and Turtle’s hand is slack for Raphael to correct any errors. He closes the hand and move the thumb over the two digits. “You can’t tuck your thumb in when you make a fist because–,"

 “Because I can do some damage on the tensions if I tuck it in. And can damage it.”  Turtle says all wise and Raph finds himself nodding at his return.

 “Yeah,” Raph replies, moving Turtle’s fist so it can face the opposite way rather of them, “And when you’re preparing to punch, one fist should be by your jawline and the other below it with an angle though. So if you punch, you’re protecting your face.”

 Turtle nods, but soon after his eyes expand with fear and he’s grasping his crutch. “I have to leave, I–," His eyes set into a mania, and Raphael has no time to ask him what’s the matter, because Turtle gets up as fast as he can.

 “Don’t forget to take your pills–,"

 “Yeah, when it’s dark.” Raph finishes his sentence, and Turtle nods with a slight smile.

 “I have to go, Raphael. Thank you.” With that Turtle leaves the cell, and Raph’s mind pounders at the thought of what could’ve happened.

 The sound of different voices begins to get loud, and Raph’s pit of stomach twists into knots. He has the immediate fear they overheard, and somehow Turtle was getting some six-sense about it, because Raphael didn’t make out a peep.

 Turtle didn’t appear like he was part of the Foot, and neither did Buddy. He commences to speculate how the Shredder got his hands on two turtles like them, but for now, a nap was turning to sound good. Especially for the fever…

  Maybe if Turtle comes back, he can teach him further. And hopefully protect himself, and his brother, from any more injuries the Shredder has at hand.

[shitpostingmoftiss]

what about martha hudson. what about mummy and the fkn dyNAMICS OF COMBUSTION

You must stay wary of everyone with the name of M

-M

[shitpostingmoftiss]

You know whose name also starts with M?

MIKE STAMFORD