#aight. well I already paid for my pizza so I gotta go back... | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dumbdotcomm · 4 years

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how to fall in love with your best friends

(a/n) i had this queued up in my old blog and totally didn’t repost it here so! here’s the commission i did for @fanfic-inator795‘s wonderful ocs!

Now if Mikey got to thinking about it hard he guess it all really started off like this: a nice beautiful morning- sun shining birds singing over the bustling clamor and the sweet caress of the wafting scent of oil and gasoline making him feel like everything was just right. It ought to have been- he’ll be with his friends soon, and they’ll all be extently laxed, a simultaneous, collective easygoingness to them that's undeniably the best part of working down at Hueso’s in the first place.

And sure things would get messy and, sure, it may not have been ideal for the back, a little hard on the muscles lugging trays out and garbage out and dealing with less than cooperative customers but it paid nice.

Yeah, Mikey thinks it all started there, really, if he got to thinking about it. At that little pizza joint and a water gun fight.

And as he stood, ready to punch out of work and collect his red metal lunchbox from the side in the little cubby, Michi pops up just in time, an eager grin creating little lines on her face. It catches Mikey a little off guard, though he should be used to her sneaking up on him by now.

“Sorry! ” she says, slapping him hard on the shoulder (oh, and in the process she nearly knocks the life out of him and the little pointless badge with his name so nicely inscribed on that customers never actually read when they’d ask “um so what’s your name again, kid?” only to call him ‘waiter’ in five minutes).

“You’re a ninja, shoulda- like- felt me coming in the wind or whatever it is you guys do,” Michi snorts, tugging Mikey along out the back door to Hueso’s.

And Mikey doesn’t even stick around to see if someone had already stolen his lunch from inside his box- Frankie liked to do stupid stuff like that- and, with something a little less than dignity- because he totally should’ve sensed her coming, Mikey saunters out behind Michi as she excitedly pounds down the sidewalk and up the avenues.

“We do not ‘feel people sneakin’ up on us in the wind’,” he says around a chuckle, and lumbers up the creaky wooden steps to Junior’s apartment, kicking the compiling stack of mail to the side of the hall and smiles as they both round the corner to see Junior helping his neighbor into her apartment, lugging her bags in.

She’s blind and still thinks she can go grocery shopping; and she pinches Junior’s sweatshirt and calls his face hard when she tries to pinch his cheek.

“I’ll be right out guys,” Junior calls, before disappearing inside the apartment for just a couple minutes, “Just head inside, I’ll be there in a sec!”

It, of course, takes a bit longer than a second, which Mikey and Michi don’t complain about, but as the few minutes turn into close to twenty they almost wonder if they should go rescue their friend from his untimely demise of listening to ‘elderly stories’, Junior texts them.

Psst look out the window

And there he is, tossing a tiny rock up at his living room window from the street two stories below, with a floaty around his waist and swimming trunks and no shirt with a dopey grin flippers on his feet and oh my….this has to be some kind of joke.

Michi barely suppresses what might just be a pure blend of a giggle, a snort and a groan- but it's funny nonetheless, and theatrical. Mikey stands at the window, grinning wildly down at his friend.

“Okay, I’ll bite. What’re you doing man?”

“Oh Mikey…” Junior calls from the doorway, raising his arms high above his head in some glorious exaltation, “I’m embracing my adventurous side. You guys aren’t the only ones with crazy ideas.”

“Where are we even gonna go swimming.…” Michi shouts, folding her arms around a pillow as she goes into Junior’s kitchen to grab a bag of chips, “Plus, I don't own a bathing suit. My last one fit like when we were like fourteen.”

And she turns around on her heels, sauntering casually back to the window, smirking slyly as she hears Junior scamper up to the front door of the apartment building, shouting her name in a breathless laugh.

“Michi! Mich, c’mon guys! Jus’...just go with me, aight? I found a cool spot, I promise it’s legit.”

And she didn't mean to make him desperate, really...but Michi could not understand why Junior had wanted to spend so much of his free time with her; it perplexed her almost as much as it amused her. Almost five years of friendship didn’t really change her self doubts.

And somehow he's already bursting into the apartment, and Mikey’s doubled over laughing. Junior’s always been so ridiculously hopeful for her, his arms raised like a plea and a desperate smile, breathless and begging.

“So…? What’cha guys think?”

Michi isn't all about doing things right, or the right thing at all. Sometimes she can be dumb and make bad calls.

This, she figures, looking down at her toes that curl around the loose fringes of that rug, that this is no different.

_____________________________________

They don’t know where they’re headed; there’s about a thousand ways to go now and Junior, feeling suddenly so spontaneous, didn’t think any of it through.

And, somehow that’s more comforting than the thought of knowing as they race down 135 and 95, letting the breeze whip into the open windows, sending Michi’s hair into a whirl and Mikey sighs in tranquility.

They finally come to a stop, the light up ahead transitioning from yellow to red.

Mikey looks over Junior’s way, eyes flickering between his softly closed eyes and the open road ahead of them. And it was something so kindred and so delicate- gazing at his gentle quiescence like that. It makes something like a reckless stillness, a certain way his heart flutters under the white cotton of his t-shirt and it makes Mikey want to do more- for Junior, for Michi. And he’s afraid to tell them, they deserve a whole lot more than what he can give.

The words won’t work, anyway, though. The moment passes, the light turns green and Junior makes a left on the ramp.

The highway roars with the careless rumbles of motorcycles and endangerment like that; still, in spite of the anxiousness he feels, it makes Mikey crack a smile, leaning back against his leather-torn seat, glancing over at Michi in the rearview mirror as she lifts her head from the window, staring a hole in him or something with her overbright eyes, turning them back, again, out to the highway.

“They really shouldn’t go so fast….” she says with a breathlike whisper that Mikey almost misses with all the noise; and she pops a sunflower seed into her mouth.

They stopped at a gas station somewhere along the lines between New York and Jersey, stashed the back seat with packs of sunflower seeds, coca cola, and hit the road again. Humans are kinda oblivious, or they’re just too desensitized that the surprise of a Kappa, a mutant turtle and a bone-skeleton guy undisguised is pretty much nonexistent.

And it’s almost like they could just keep going if they wanted- and never stop.

“But…” Mikey stops and chuckles, resting his forehead on the back of Junior’s seat, and Michi who now takes up the passenger’s seat looks back at Mikey, with a cocky grin that’s always insightful like she’s pulling words out of him without a preamble to.

“But....” he stops again in thought, looking out into the highway, “I couldn’t leave my family…”

Michi thinks about it, her eyes never entirely leaving Mikey’s, and he catches her stare, clearing his throat in the most obnoxious cough. “And I...well, I don’t know if you guys knew this, but um...I’m actually makin’ a motorcycle’a my own!” he brags, voice strained in an awkward way that almost reminded him of Donnie.

“Really…?” Junior queries with the corners of his lips curling up in slight disbelieving and taunting superiority, his brows rutting where they stay risen, “...you’re making...a motorcycle.”

Mikey sputters, nodding profusely to that, “Psh..yeah. I am...an’ ya’ll really shouldn’t be actin’ all smug like that ‘cause ya know what?” he nudges Michi.

“What.” her face, unamused, tilts.

“If I finish it….when I finish it-” he takes a happy breath, a deep sigh that dreams just about a thousand things- too much for his friends to ever know, he thinks, “-I’m gonna take you guys ‘cross the world with it.” It’s a vow that seems intended to be kept and unbroken by all odds.

Even if Mikey knows it’s probably impossible. He’s got responsibilities here. A city both above and below ground to protect. A...destiny or something, to fulfill.

And Michi doesn’t know to laugh or just sigh like she’s inclined to when things and concepts and promises and people don’t make sense at all; because why...why would he go...wasting time like that- on her.

“Motorcycles can’t go across the ocean, Orange Spice,” she says instead-

-and laughs raw and raspy, her laughs intertwining with her best friends.

_____________________________________

Cape May, New Jersey

Michi feels she’s spent a lifetime in Junior’s truck, all hot and sweaty and smelling like pickles.

(“No...guys, look- look, look, see? Ya ain’t gotta eat the pickles- just smear ‘em right on the sandwich- there ya go-!” Junior tossed his head back as Mikey dropped the pickle, slipping right out of his hands as he rubbed it over his sandwich with a frustrated growl. It was completely pointless and pickles were absolutely gross by taste and texture-

-but it wound up being, he won’t ever admit, the best sandwich he ever made.)

And they pulled up on a beach- a beach they didn’t know. In the middle of the night.

They threw a blanket and sat.

Just sat.

Junior watches, though, as Michi looks out into the ocean, the bright moon- bright and golden yellow- it's light engulfing her almost, it seems. And she keeps watching the waves’ recessions and their ebbing, with a hollowness again.

Still, there was something mesmerizing about her empty stare, a far off glance into a distant unknown and he wanted- Junior just wants to get any piece of that...understanding.

“It's beautiful…” Michi says, her voice as broken and shattered as glass left to reflect the grand luminescent rays of something magnificent. She always sounds so joyful, but Junior’s known her long enough to know there’s a hurt buried deep in there.

It catches him, and a particular ineptitude of speech gets a hold of him, too; he can only blink a few times, ogle a little at her face, too awkward still to say anything.

Mikey’s unloading the truck, juggling fifty things and making Junior laugh softly at it.

Still, Michi watches the water. “The waves- it’s they're...in a prison. It’s like every time they come in closer, they get pulled back further, a-and...and then, well’um…” in an instant her voice trails and her eyes glaze over to somewhere else.

Junior just watches them go. He knows her attachment to water. They’ll stay here as long as she needs.

And they just sit for a moment. So unique in this quietude that he almost feels half of himself. Smaller and more shy.

He's about to...to pull her up and drag her into the water and forget this because he wants to give her so much more than hurt and watching her sit and think of the water, and probably, with that, her parents- both Junior and Mikey know it’s her own kind of hurt.

But Michi’s breath hitches and the eyes fall back to here, back down to something less painful in so many odd ways.

And Michi releases herself, in the most apportioned way that she gives, her eyes flickering for a moment to Junior, and back down to the cool sand, the quilted blanket, and beach toys with the loose, fringed strings of it.

_____________________________________

“I...hate to be a bother….” Mikey says in a posh, pretentious accent, tottering on the rocks and shells, the shirt he wears drying in the blowing breeze.

Out here, they've found a grove, or a cave far off and secluded, dark and damp and glistening with a thing with a semblance of enigmas.

She slips back and catches herself, finding footing below and, also, finding his quizzically amused stare.

“Junior, how are we...when are we getting back?” he asks, eyes lost on the walls of the cave, his fingers lightly grazing them.

Michi snaps her head over to him when there's no noise- none of his muttered curses under his breath or the dumb laugh- Junior just sits, studying the array of seashells they've found and the compiled piles of sand, pressing his knuckles to his lips.

“Uh, never.” he quips back without lifting his pondering stare at the assortment.

Michi scoffs, her shoulders dropping, “Skull-cap...”

I’m thinking of...somethin’...somethin’, somethin’ somethin’,” he starts a melody, mostly in his head probably; Michi doesn’t think it fits to a tune just right, but Mikey joins in on it too, and she just starts laughing.

_____________________________________

It’s the worst best idea ever to be thought of and maybe, perhaps- it makes them all forget their worries for a little bit.

They learn to surf. Try to surf. Fail at surfing.

Mikey winds up falling over and pulling a joint.

“Oh...man- I’m definitely not gettin’ up for weeks after all this,” he exclaims through a pained laugh, as they walk side by side, gas station, cotton candy between them. Junior and Michi supporting most of his weight.

They have enough seashells to fill three bags, and six stuffed animals Michi nabbed from a boardwalk game.

_____________________________________

The rising sun cascades as reddish hue over the sand, making them shine in a dull kind of light that they lay on, looking up at the flying kites and the puffing clouds with pleasant simpers- the kind that mean, yeah, okay, I’m happy with this and even now, after all of it (after making sandwiches and sandcastles and surfing and getting lost in a cave looking for exotic shells and the longest drive and everything) they still can’t make sense of it, of the feeling.

And Mikey tells Michi, with just how open they are now, he figures it is as good as any time to- that she should leave it, leave her hurt here and forget it.

Forget and start...somewhere else.

“With us!” he petitions, turning his head in the sand over to her, the grains stuck in her hair, long out of the bun she twisted into place earlier. “You...you could come and...an’ stay or...or, Michi I dunno but’cha gotta get out sometime soon…”

His words break like the desperation his face carries; the silence falls over them again and Michi watches one of those pointless blimps fly overhead, ready for another day at the beach, her eyes empty shimmer in the rising sun.

“I know….” she starts in a deep breath, “Mikey, I know you...you and your brothers- they...you guys do so much. And you save, you’re...you saved a whole ton of people but…” she turns her eyes into his, and he sees every nightmare through hers, through her eyes, “You can’t save everyone. I think...I think you know that.” she says.

So why do you keep trying with me? she doesn’t.

But Mikey grabs her hand and she can tell when his heart flutters and his face flushes without at all having to spare him her eyes. And, now, she gets it.

“‘S ‘cause...well, I dunno…” he smiles sheepishly.

“Yes...you do,” Michi offers one back, wishing Junior would wake up already and tell them it’s time to go, “But you shouldn’t.”

And they drop the mystery for now and all the unconventionally odd and terribly obscure feelings that went in tow, Michi breaking off a chunk of Junior’s unfinished and kinda stale cotton candy she snagged, sliding it into her mouth while they look up at the blimps and clouds and setting sun.

“Ya gonna pay for that?” Junior asks, standing over his two friends, his smile brighter and just as beautiful as the sun.

“Nah, I’m good, Bone-boy,” she says, staring still at the morning sky, spawning a laugh, genuine and, all the very same, brittle.

_____________________________________

In about ten days she gets a bill of two dollars in her mailbox and a seashell necklace, her best friend’s initials carved into a shell.

#tmnt #ocs #rise of the tmnt #tmnt fic #my writing #commissions #fanfic-inator795 #mikey #michi #junior #i love these kids tysm andrea for letting me write them for u!!

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livingmybestfakelife · 6 years

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Title: Lady and the Tramp

summary: You’re a popular r&b singer who is going to collab with the hottest rapper out right now, Erik “Killmonger” Stevens.

“Maybe we can make your skirt a little shorter, give you a 90s Mariah Carey look” your manager tells you and you shake your head “Laurel, my skirt doesn’t need to be anymore shorter than this, I’m cool” she holds her hands up “Alright alright, well I’m just saying them thighs of yours are supple as hell and they deserve to be shown off” you roll your eyes and pick up your purse on your bed and head out of your hotel room, Laurel quickly follows behind “Slow down girl, damn you walk fast” you two get into the elevator and head outside to the waiting car in front of the hotel, of course waiting for you are a few paparazzi, you shield your eyes with your hand and get into the car, not long afterwards you get a text from the man himself, Erik Killmonger, rapper, infamous bad boy, and to your surprise when you first met him two years ago a really nice dude, “Where you at lil mama?” you smile to yourself and answer back “I’m on my way to the studio now”, it was a long time wait to collaborate with him, your record company and team didn’t think it would be a good idea to go that route, your image was much too “squeaky clean” and “pure” to do a duo with him, let alone be friends with someone like Erik, but you weren’t perfect and you didn’t want that impression of yourself, to look as though you thought you were better than everyone else, so when everyone finally budged and say it would be okay you were excited, Erik was not only a good rapper but was great at writing r&b type of songs, he could be hardcore as well as intimate.

When you arrived to the big building you were escorted up by one of Erik’s boys, as intimidating as his crew looked, just like Erik they were cool and down to earth as well “Shit girl, that jacket didn’t even drop yet and you already got it, that boy spoils the hell outta you” he tells you referring to a jacket that was apart of Erik’s highly anticipated clothing line, you smirk and shrug “What can I say, I got the nigga hypnotized” you joke and he laughs “You ain’t lying, never seen him this hung up over a female before”, once you two get to the floor the recording studio is on you can already hear laughing and people having a good time, he opens the door for you and you walk in to see Erik’s crew, a few other girls and a sound engineer, it looks like a small party since some drinks are laid out and there is a snack table set up, Erik turns around with a cup in his hand and smiles at you, his grill sparkling a little “Wassup ma! Yo everybody YN is here” everyone shouts a hello at you and you smile and greet everyone, once you reach Erik he guzzles down the rest of his drink and gives you a big hug “How’s my favorite song bird?” you turn away shyly and his takes your chin in his hand and turns you back to him “Whatchu gettin’ all shy about?” “People are around” he looks over at his guests who are all in their own world “They ain’t paying us any mind” he sits his cup down and grabs your hand “Come on I gotta show you something” he leads you into the room where you two would record the song in and he closes the door behind him.

He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his phone, he goes to find something on it then holds it up closer to you, a beat starts to play and it sounds familiar “What does this sound like to you?” you listen harder and then a big smile forms on your face “Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s You’re All I Need to Get By” he smiles back and says “That’s right, I paid to use a sample of it, ain’t nobody gonna sue us” you laugh and hug him “Oh my god, Erik, this is amazing” “I knew you’d like it” “You put a lot of thought into this” “I mean...” he shrugs “Stop it, you’re very creative, fuck what the critics say” he smiles a little and looks down “Hey” you then hold his chin and make him look at you “Like sweet morning dew, I took one look at you, and it was plain to see, you were my destiny” you softy sing to him, he laughs a little and goes you hold your waist “Why you always gassing me up?” “Because you my homeboy and I love you” “I love you too ma”. There is a knock on the door and you two break your hold onto each other and the door opens, “Aye, the pizza is here” one of his crew members Cameron says “Aight, we coming” Erik tells him and he looks back at you “Hope you hungry” “Starving boy, come on, and I hope bread sticks was ordered too” “You already know”.

#erik killmonger imagine #erik killmonger

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