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junipers-archive · 1 year

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Power-Outage

Word Count: 1.2k

Includes: fluff, fluff, fluff spencer x reader when a power-outage occurs and spencer being spencer and being adorably the perfect boyfriend

Dark. It is dark and you're alone and its honestly embarrassing how quickly you pick up your phone to call your boyfriend. I mean...who's still scared of the dark? What're you 5?

It's two in the morning and you shouldn't be calling, really. You've only been dating for a few weeks, but he's Spencer, he's technically been your best friend for 4 years, 3 months, 2 days. and...about 18 hours, but who's counting? You convince yourself you just need to hear his voice, his sweet, safe, angelic-

"H-hello?"his voice breaks from that of someone just woken up at an ungodly hour by his co-dependent girlfriend who so happened to have accidentally hit the call button while she was second-guessing herself.

Maybe he'll hang up? Maybe you can convince him you butt-called him in the middle of the night tomorrow at work? Or maybe-

"Y/n baby I'm really gonna need you to respond before i drive over there." he sounds calm, not at all agitated, not at all like someone woken up at 2 in the morning, he sounds...like Spencer

"Hi..." You exhale into the mic with relief. You should say something, really say something, apologize, yes that's what you'll do "I'm sorry I shouldn't have called, god I'm so idiotic...I just-well the power just went out and its 2 in the morning and I really should get some sleep but-"

You're cut off by the jingling of keys on the other line.

"Spence you still there?"

"I'm on my way." Was that a car door?

"On your wayy..." It takes you second, or it takes your un-caffienated and sleep deprived brain a second to realize he means he's coming over to your house. Your home. Where you live.

And yes you're bestfriends with him and you've had sleepovers before but that was when you were ready. That was when you had cleaned.

"No! Spencer No! That is completely unessecary! I'm fine! I just wanted someone to talk to and I thought-"

The engine of his car starts. You can hear him trying to repress the laugh that graces your ears every time he knows something you're trying to hide from his genius mind.

"I'm already pulling out of the drive-way, forget about it. Plus I know you're afraid of dark."

Maybe he'll turn around if you just- "Spencer. I am not afraid of the dark. That is childish and obsurd and I mean im not a little kid anymore! You can just go home, go to bed and forget this ever happened"

There's a silence on the other end, besides the hum of the car, absolute silence.

Until, "Do you still have the candle I got your for Christmas?"

Of course. Of course Dr. Spencer freakin Reid wouldn't believe you. I mean he knows you better than anyone. What were you thinking?

"Yea spence. Yea I have the candle"

He hums in response and you can practically hear him grinning on the other end.

You admit defeat.

"Can you at least bring over some marshmallows? I'm all out from our last movie night." You would honestly rather have him over as soon as possible if it weren't for your hideous room and the pile of "i'll get to it" in the living room haunting your mind. This will at least buy you time.

But again he's dr. reid. "I've already got some from my stash, jumbo and small and snowmen shaped. And of course hot chocolate!"

He's perfect. He's everything and more you could've asked for.

And yet. ANd yet. At this very moment you'd like to strangle him. And not that impersonal type of cowardly strangle like really just-

"Don't be embarrassed baby. I've already seen your room at its worst. I'll be there in ten, turn on the candle and read your books for now."

You hear him knock on the door a few minutes later, as to not disturb the neighbors. Because of course, he's Spencer and would've thought about that too.

You run with the only flashlight you have to the front door, and you're greeted by a ruffled, grinning and ever-charming Spencer with his satchel stuffed with god knows what and wearing his periodic table of elements pjs.

You mirror his grin almost immediately, albeit sheepishly and look down to hide your own embarrassment...only to find him wearing the pink bunny slippers he'd stolen from your house only a few days ago.

With that all or any ego-preservation skills were out the window. He was here already...right?

You let him in, still staring down at your shoes as he leads you two straight for the kitchen, opening and closing cabinets to find the ingredients and kitchenware as if he'd lived there his whole life.

You take a seat at the kitchen's island stool, and watch him work.

This should be embarrassing. I mean it is. It is!

That is, until he hands you a steaming cup of hot chocolate with little snowman marshmallows dissolving on top and smiling like he hasn't just driven 8 miles with these ingredients to make you happy because you called him.

You called him at 2 in the morning.

And with that the unease floods back. And you're hiding your face in your hands and mumbling something incoherent.

This is when he finally speaks. "So...you wanna build a fort?"

You rub your eyes and look up at him. "i-i'm sorry?"

"We should build a fort." He's assertive in this, something at another time you would've found very hot, but at this moment it concerns you. Because to any other person what you've just done would be unacceptable.

"You...want to...build a fort?"

"I find it helps, I mean...at least when I was younger my mom and dad, they used to help me build forts when the power went out. To distract me if anything. It was kind of the only time I remember them getting along."He chuckles and looks down bashfully.

And now all you can think of is building a fort with the beautiful boy in front of you.

"Yea, yea i'd really love it if we built a fort."

And you do, you build a fort with what now you deem as you're future husband. Lighting the other candle he brought you on the counter that fills the air with your favorite scent and finding battery power camping lamps in your closet to light up the room.

He tells you stories about the kinds of forts he used to build and to the best of both your abilities you try to recreate his favorite.

By around 5:30 in the morning the sun is rising and you're both past out in the center of the monstrosity you two created while high on a sugar rush provided by the hot chocolate and one two many marshmallow snowmen consumed.

But you'll remember this for the rest of your life you think. You'll remember Spencer for the rest of your life. Because no one, no one would understand how to make you forget your biggest fear like he did.

While surrounded by darkness all you could see was him.

He was your light.

He was your light, and for as long as he'd have you, you'd be his too.

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phykoha · 11 months

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Your lil creetures are the only things keeping me a float in this sea of turtle angst. Can i offer them a bag of jumbo marshmallows as a thank you?

realization at the age of small

#phy's sketchbook #inbox answer #art #TMFT #aka tiny mutant feral turtles #tmnt #rottmnt #turtle tots #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo

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velnna · 3 months

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*V v v gently squishes the meesh like a jumbo marshmallow*

Hes very squishable

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bloomandbutterbakery · 3 months

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#desserts #marshmallows #jumbo marshmallows #winter #winter wonderland #snowman #blue #reindeer #polar bear #kids

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kittyball23 · 5 months

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Soundproof (a Trolls fanfic)

Summary: John Dory reveals that Rhonda is soundproof, and that little bit of information sits quite well with Poppy and Branch **Rated M**

A/N: 😏

__________________________________________

It was precisely three things that were serving as a distraction to Branch that night.

One was the incredibly delicious marshmallows in his hands, plopped into his mouth every few minutes so that he could experience its chewy, fluffy goodness in between the songs that he and his brothers were harmonizing to. Another was Poppy, sitting across him from the campfire alongside her sister Viva. Her deep, fuschia eyes - sparkling with the reflection of the crackling orange flames - remained trained to his blue whenever she spared a glance his way, letting him know by the intense gaze that there was something other than flames crackling between them.

Tension.

And it was one that was continuing to build as the evening progressed, all because of a small tidbit of information that was so graciously dumped upon them during the idle conversation among the group of friends. The information in itself being the third distraction.

Patience was not proving to be a virtue, however, and he and Poppy had to be pulled out of their dazed infatuation with one another several times - Viva nudging her sister with a giggle and Floyd nudging Branch wearing his own little smirk.

After what did feel like hours of happily enduring laughter, songs, stories and other shenanigans that could only ensue among siblings, the first yawn finally was emitted, coming out of Floyd. It in turn caused everybody else to realize just how tired they were, too. So when the other yawns and tired stretches followed suit to confirm it was true, Branch nearly felt like pulling his brother in for a hug. His favorite bro had come to his aid, even if he may not have known it! But while the fun between the seven friends had just concluded, the heated glint in Poppy’s eyes told him that their fun was just beginning.

Just as Branch’s thoughts began to wander somewhere ungentlemanly, John Dory’s loud voice broke through. “I don’t know about you all, but I’m bushed!” To demonstrate his point, he plopped down flat on his back upon his sleeping bag. “Guess it was pretty fun singing and roasting marshmallows after all, eh?” he chuckled after a moment.

Bruce hummed in agreement, munching on the last few in his possession. “Mmm-mmm! I gotta tell Brandy we should add these to the dessert menu,” he said, referring to his wife of whom he ran Vacay Island’s cantina with.

“Imma be the first one in line if you do that!” Clay exclaimed, exchanging a fist bump with the purple-haired Troll.

“Count me in on that, too!” Viva giggled. She too really loved marshmallows - her couch back in Putt Putt Village, in fact, was a marshmallow! And only now did it really occur to her to wonder how in the world she’d managed not to consume it for all those years living there. Shrugging it off, she turned to the gang with a large grin. “He’s right though,” she said, gesturing a thumb at John Dory. “This really was fun! I’d love for us to all hang again sometime!”

Floyd nodded his head, agreeing. “That would be nice.” He turned to Branch, seeking his younger bro’s opinion.

“Yeah,” the blue Troll responded, hoping he didn’t sound too breathless when he answered, his gaze still fixed on Poppy.

The Pop Queen, in a similar fashion, concurred with a little dazed “Uh-huh.”

Good nights were bid, sleeping bags unzipped, and wrappers to the Jumbo-sized marshmallow bags disposed of. As Branch went to go put out the campfire, he silently mouthed the words to Poppy that would let her know when they could get the ball rolling.

Five minutes.

He accompanied the words with hand gestures - one going forward, as though he were making the motion for the word “after,” and then another gesture tucking his hands under one side of his head, to make it look as though he were laying down to sleep. Poppy understood right away, confirming with a little wink and followed by a half-lidded gaze that made a tingle go down his spine. He tried to ignore it as he laid down in his sleeping bag, for the sake of surviving those next five minutes without her in his arms already, but found he couldn’t. Poppy’s effect was too strong, and the desires manifested themselves in delicious fantasies for what he ached to do with her. Fantasies of which would soon become a reality.

Branch lay until he was sure that he heard the sounds of heavy cadences of breathing and light, steady snoring. He waited an extra thirty seconds or so afterwards, just to be extra sure and, upon hearing no signs of activity, allowed himself to rise up and out of his sleeping bag, careful to take the utmost caution in not making any noise whatsoever.

Poppy, also having waited the allotted time, made to get out of her sleeping bag, too. In her haste to reach Branch’s side, she accidentally crunched on a dry leaf, the crinkling noise resounding around them. Both froze. With this number of Trolls snoozing in the vicinity, someone was bound to stir. And stir someone did.

Clay shifted in his bag, and Branch held his breath, fully expecting his older brother to blink his eyes open and catch the two of them sneaking off. But to his relief, the lime-green-haired Troll drowsily mumbled something about tax evasion and then snuggled back into his blanket. Poppy met her boyfriend’s eyes and scrunched her shoulders, a little blush tinting her cheeks and a quiet giggle escaping her. Branch rolled his eyes playfully, and simply extended his hand for her to take, a little smirk on his face. She squeezed it softly as he tugged them along, padding against the soft dirt floor underneath them to reach their destination. Once they got just outside of JD's beloved caterbus pet, he released from her grip, bringing his hand up to her face so he could pull her in for the kiss he'd been dying to share with her. Poppy obliged him willingly, parting her lips slightly to deepen it. He pulled away with some reluctance after several seconds, resting his forehead against hers. Branch’s voice was hushed and eager when he spoke, finally addressing that one point of crucial information in the earlier conversation that had been so easily glossed over by the others, even his brother - JD - himself, who had revealed it.

"Do you really think that Rhonda is completely soundproof?"

The question itself wasn't so crude, but for the purpose that he was asking it made his cheeks grow warm. He couldn't help but think back to the time when John Dory had made the very confident-sounding claim that Rhonda was waterproof, but it hadn't turned out to be so.

Poppy however didn't seem bothered, and snickered. "I mean, even if she isn't, I'm sure she'll make sure nobody bothers us. Won't you, girl?"

Branch gave a short gasp when he felt a rumble of a trill behind him in response, only coming to just realize that Rhonda had been awakened and was panting happily at the couple. She wagged her stumpy green tail, seeming to have understood what Poppy had said and more than willing to be of help.

Branch still looked a little bit uncertain, suddenly rethinking this little venture. Even with as much as he wanted this to happen, would it be wise?

"Poppy," he said, pausing to think of what he was going to point out to her first. That perhaps they shouldn't be partaking in these type of activities within a caterbus that was not theirs? With not one, nor two, or even three or four, but FIVE other Trolls who had the chance of waking up and catching them in the act? And what kind of mess would they leave behind on the bed? Branch couldn’t imagine the embarrassment that he would have to face if confronted by John Dory for anything that was leftover upon the sheets….

But Poppy was quick to already reply. And reply she did. "Brrranch…" His name was a teasing growl, the ‘r’ drawn arousingly as she opened Rhonda's side door, batted her lashes and gingerly stepped foot inside.

Branch sighed. That's it.

In a move that suddenly startled her, he swept in, hauling her up and off her feet and hoisting her in a bridal carry that had her doing her best to not squeal in surprise. As he toted her into the caterbus, he hoped Poppy wasn't prepared to sleep.

Because Branch sure wasn't.

__________________________________________

A loud, thumping in the night is what awakened him.

Floyd startled, a little groggy as he registered that it was still pitch black, the morning not broken through yet. He attempted to shut his eyes again and doze off, but a sudden rumbling in his stomach caught him off guard, letting the magenta-haired Troll know loud and clear that it was hungry.

One midnight snack will do, he thought. Or... whatever time it is. Floyd had no way of knowing in particular what hour it was. It could very well be past midnight, or just a few minutes before the crack of dawn. He went back and forth reasoning which of the two it could be as he made his light, tip-toeing steps towards Rhonda. JD had lots of goodies packed in his fridge and cabinets, so there was bound to be something to sedate him.

As his hand reached for the knob of Rhonda's door, prepared to turn, he stopped short at the sound of the thumping again, more pronounced. Floyd blinked. Was that coming from inside of the caterbus? He strained to listen, and heard a rapid creaking noise, as though springs were being pressed down upon over and over, accompanied with a long, drawn noise of some sort. A moan, he realized, the longer he had his ear perked to attention.

Wait a minute... He thought he recognized that voice. Was that… Poppy? Floyd blinked. Why? Had something happened to her? He glanced over to where the other Trolls had been sleeping, seeing for the first time that her sleeping bag was indeed empty...

...And so was Branch's.

Suddenly, the magenta Troll's brain began to put two and two together, the cogs shifting in his brain right as another thumping was heard, and a new moan that bore a resemblance to the name of his youngest bro resonated.

Something had happened to Poppy all right. But it wasn't anything bad.

It was…

They were...

“Oh!” he gasped. Floyd suddenly felt blood rush to his face, his appetite vanishing entirely and his stomach turning queasy. He hurriedly turned his heel, trying to dash as quickly as he could back to his sleeping bag before he had an accident, but failing as he tripped over one of his brothers.

"Ow," a drowsy mumble came from Bruce, and he began to sit up and rub his eyes at the disturbance. "Floyd? Dude, what's going on?"

Floyd waved his hands in a panic. "No! Bruce, go back to sleep. Please!"

"Huh?" Bruce cocked his head. "What are you talking abou - " His sentence was cut off by the sound of a shout, one that sounded an awful lot like their youngest brother. More thumping followed, and Bruce raised an eyebrow, clueless for a second, until realization dawned upon him. "Ohhhh," he said, cracking a smile once his thoughts were confirmed upon seeing the lack of Branch and Poppy in their respective sleeping bags. Rhonda affirmed it further, cutting her narrowed eyes at him as if daring him to try and intrude the private moment. So that's what they were up to. Bruce shook his head, fondly remembering a time when he and Brandy were younger, and would get up to their own share of frisky business. "Well, I'll tell you one thing for sure," he told Floyd, "If there was ever any doubt that Branch isn't a man, there certainly isn’t one now."

Two responses met the purple-haired Troll. One was another loud moan coming from the caterbus. The other was a groan of dismay from his magenta-haired brother.

"Didn't John Dory say she was soundproofed?" Floyd whimpered in mortification, pointing at Rhonda.

Bruce laughed. "Bro, Rhonda's not soundproof. JD just sleeps like a rock. See?" The brothers looked over at their eldest bro who indeed looked like a content stone just laying there. Un-rock-like though, he snored, drooling some from the side of his open mouth.

Of course, Floyd thought with a roll of his eyes. He cast a worried glance at Bruce. "Okay, but, um, what should we do? I'd love to go back to sleep, but not if I'm going to listen to… um… to…" He tried to think of the right word to describe what was happening without outright saying it, but found he didn't have to. He grimaced when Poppy cried out, making him shudder. "To that," he finished.

Bruce understood and patted a hand reassuringly on Floyd’s shoulder. "Not to worry, bro. I got you covered. Here, gimme your hand." Floyd extended his palm out, and Bruce reached into his hair, pulling out a couple of small objects.

Floyd was perplexed when he realized what it was. "Gumdrops?" he asked.

"Hey, I know they're delish, but they're also 100% soundproof, guaranteed."

Floyd narrowed his eyes, unable to help feeling skeptical. "You sure?"

Bruce nodded. "Yep! Trust me, I stuff them in my kids' ears every night right after they've gone to sleep, in case the wife and I ever get in the mood. So far, they haven't been disturbed a peep!"

Floyd felt his stomach lurch and then nodded. “Okay! Alright, I’ll take them.”

Bruce chuckled, putting his own gumdrops in his ears and snuggling back down. He dozed off once more, and Floyd soon after, the magenta-haired Troll relieved that true to his brother’s word, he heard nothing but the sound of silence.

__________________________________________

Poppy found the brilliant sun the following morning a perfect compliment to the equally sunny attitude she had. She stretched, recomposed herself, and took a great big whiff of the fresh air once she stepped out of Rhonda. Right as she began to replay the events of the previous night, she felt a pair of hands slink around her waist, belonging to the Troll she’d shared the wonderful experience with. She giggled a little as his caress lightly tickled her sides, and she turned to face him, bestowing a quick peck upon his lips.

“Morning,” he whispered.

“Morning,” she replied. She licked her lips with a little hum, noting the flavor he’d left behind on them. “I take it coffee's brewing?” she asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” he confirmed, tipping his messy-haired blue head back towards Rhonda. “Want a cup?”

“In a little bit,” she said. “Think I’m gonna stretch my legs out here a bit first. I’m, uh… still a bit sore.” She admitted it with a blush that made Branch chuckle.

“All right.” He better adjusted his leafy vest to conceal the purplish mark on the base of his neck, bruise-like in appearance if not for the indentations indicative of teeth, if one were to look closely enough - evidence of the Pop Queen’s handiwork, no doubt.

They exchanged another sweet peck, and then Poppy was off at her sister’s side in a couple of wobbly bounds.

“Wakey, wakey!” she chirped, shaking her shoulder.

Viva gave a short yawn and grinned when her sights set on her sister. “Hey, you!” she giggled, throwing her arms around her for a hug. Taking note of her messy pink hair and worried she’d tossed and turned through the night, Viva questioned her. “You sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” Poppy replied. Better than okay, actually, she added silently, remembering Branch’s arms around her and how expertly they’d handled her.

“Oh, good!” Viva breathed out. “Um, you do know your leg warmers are inside out, right?”

Poppy grinned sheepishly when she realized her sister was right. But she couldn’t help be disoriented, not after the way Branch made her so drunk on his love. She shrugged, grateful when Clay’s awakening interrupted them.

“Ah, man, I had the best dream ever!” he declared as he stretched, sitting up in his sleeping bag.

Viva rolled her eyes. “This isn’t the one where you’re drinking hot cocoa and finishing everyone’s taxes, is it?”

Clay raised a hand. “Guilty, and quite happy to be found so!” he laughed.

Viva chuckled and turned to her sister. “That’s Clay for ya!”

Poppy shook her head with a little grin and then spotted Floyd and Bruce. “Hey, guys!” she called. “Branch is at the caterbus brewing some coffee. Want some?”

Poppy then witnessed something peculiar. At the mention of their youngest bro, Floyd’s eyes widened and he exchanged a look with Bruce. The purple-haired Troll calmly replied for the two. “I’ll take a cup, Poppy, but I think Floyd’s gonna pass. He was a little sick last night, and he’s still not up to par just yet.”

Poppy’s eyebrows creased in worry. “Oh, no! Really?” She looked to the magenta-haired Troll for an answer.

“I’ll be fine,” Floyd squeaked, clearing his throat afterwards in hopes that nobody would question him further for his strange behavior. Attention was drawn from him when John Dory leapt upon his feet, bright eyed and bushy tailed.

“Wassup, fam!” he cried, snapping his fingers. “I don’t know about you all, but I slept like a baby! A baby Branch that is.” He chuckled at his own joke, until the voice of his youngest brother stopped him.

“I thought I told you to refrain from calling me that!” Branch grumbled as he stepped towards them, sipping a cup of coffee.

“I was just playing, bro.” His expression then switched to a serious one. “For real though, dude, are you all right?”

Branch looked at him with confusion. “What’d you mean?”

John Dory exhaled. “Huh, I dunno if I was dreaming or something, but I coulda sworn I heard some screaming from you last night. And y’know, come to think of it, you too, Poppy!” JD scratched his head. “Were y’all having nightmares or something?”

In that instant, Poppy felt all the color rush to her face. Branch gagged midsip of the coffee he was drinking, and Floyd moaned, a hint of green tinting his face as he rushed into the bushes to heave what was in his stomach.

“NIghtmares!” Poppy laughed. “Nightmares he says!” She laughed until she felt herself grow light-headed, and then faint.

Not in much of a better state, Branch stood, frozen in shock and unresponsive to his surroundings, blue eyes open wide but unseeing.

“Uhhh… I feel like I missed something here,” JD said, puzzled.

Clay and Viva murmured their agreement as the former waved a hand in front of his little bro’s face and Viva fanned Poppy, who was still splayed on the ground.

“I didn’t,” Bruce mumbled.

JD’s head shot towards him. “What?”

“Nevermind,” the purple-haired Troll quickly said, plastering a nothing-is-wrong grin on his face. “Now, who wants gumdrops?”

#trolls #trolls 3 #trolls band together #dreamworks #broppy #branch trolls #poppy trolls #brozone #john dory #spruce trolls #clay trolls #floyd trolls #viva trolls #fanfiction #kittyball writes #grown up stuff fanfiction #100+

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yorshie · 10 months

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Warm Coded

Bayverse TMNT Raphael x reader, Michelangelo x reader

SFW, Michelangelo and Raphael hanging out with Fem Reader on gaming night. Slice of Life? Relationships are silent understood and not elaborated on

Tags: @tmnt-tychou

When Michelangelo and Raphael invited you over for snacks and a gaming marathon, you knew eventually it would devolve into watching old wrestling montages and random talk. Which was fine, considering you never had a handle on games that weren’t indulgent reasons to admire digital environments. You were just fine sitting back and letting them race each other for supposed supremacy, egging each on in turn between bites of lukewarm pizza and the jumbo marshmallows Mikey had procured specifically for you.

Now, however, they were unwinding. Raphael had won the last game, and thus had decided on which match they were going to rewatch. Mikey was still bouncing, a slice of pizza in his hand as he shifted back and forth and shadow boxed along with the figures on the screen. The bigger brother was content to lean against the couch, arm resting on the edge lazily against the line of your body.

He groaned when his guy got thrown out of the ring, and Mikey gave a loud whoop, miming the crowd going wild as he spun in a circle and waved his hands back and forth before striking a pose.

You popped another marshmallow in your mouth and tapped your toes against a scute on the upper portion of Raph’s back. When he huffed, turned his head just far enough to give you a look, you dusted your hands, gestured to the tv.

“Could you teach me how to do that?” Your question had him turning to face you fully, legs shifting and arm moving to lay over your waist.

“You wanna know how to throw someone?” He kept giving you looks in between looking back at the tv, inviting you to clarify.

You scooted a little closer to get more comfortable, the weight of his arm a little to much for your full stomach, until his elbow wasn’t digging into your far hip. “Well, I mean…” You trailed off, cycling your hands in front of your chest until he looked once more and raised a brow ridge.

“Might be useful, you know, to know how to get someone off me.” You finished with a shrug, and he gave a low hum of understanding.

“Ah, I gotcha’ princess, but-” he gestured at the wrestlers- “these guys are all used to throwing around that much weight. You go and try and pull somethin’ like that, you’ll break something.” He emphasized this by gently pinching your side, pulling a squeak out of you as you curled up to avoid it.

“We could teach her how to break holds, though.” Mikey broke in, coming to sway next to the couch.

“Yea? Here, princess, break this hold.” You sputtered, not expecting to be dragged in the middle of a brotherly squabble, but Raph leaned his weight into the elbow behind your hip, letting his forearm flop over your ribcage. Half a second was all it took and you were squashed between the cup of his hand and the swell of his bicep.

“Gee, thanks, Mike.” You groaned, tried to squirm unsuccessfully out of the half assed pin.

“C’mon, bro, she wants to learn.” Mikey tapped Raph’s shoulder, dancing back out of reach, and you slapped Raph’s arm for mercy, feeling your dinner start to protest.

Raph tucked his other fist under his chin, both of them all but ignoring your continued struggles. “You don’t start with this stuff, Mikey. You gotta build up strength first, or else-” he rolled the arm still over you in example, and you whined when he pressed a little too hard, retaliating with a push to his shoulder that did absolutely nothing.

“Dude, we are like, ten times stronger than anyone she’s gonna be up against. Just-”

You hooked a foot under the the edge of Raph’s shell, tensed your thigh, the couch starting to protest the more you put your quads into the action. He huffed at that, free hand twisting to unhook your toes with a tickle that had you squealing in protest before you started just flailing.

Raph just leaned a little more weight on you, edging one brow ridge up towards Mikey as if to say ‘I told you so’.

“No turtle smooches for, like, a week!” You twisted, grabbed the half empty bag of marshmallows, tossed it at his head in retaliation.

He caught it easily. “How would you go about this, then?” He asked Mikey, depositing the bag on the other side of the couch, out of harms way.

Mikey huffed, nudged the pizza boxes out of your reach before they could fall as well in your quest to budge his brother. “We could just show her how to get out of simple things, not expect her to move a good four hundred pounds on her first try.”

“This isn’t four hundred pounds.” Raph gestured to where you were now trying to pry his arm off. “This is baby weight.”

“Oh! I’ll show you baby weight!” You snarled, hand shooting out for his bandana.

You got one tail before he could pull his head out of range, and you jerked his head towards you at the same time you pushed his side with your foot. His arm snapped out to correct the balance, and you pushed harder, twisting until his arm was banded across the small of your back and you were half off the couch.

“Now you’ve just made it worse.” He groused at you, hooking a thumb under your bent knee and pulling. He slung a leg over your own to trap the limb between thigh and the hard edge of his knee, digging just firm enough into the softness to leave you sputtering at the stretch.

“Ouch, ouch ouch-” You yanked on the bandana again, only succeeding in putting more weight on your arched back and pain in your leg. “Uncle, uncle, uncle.”

“I don’t know no ‘uncle’.” Raph said, sitting back calm as could be despite the fact his head was still tilted sideways. “Sounds like you’re calling someone else’s name there, princess.”

“You aren’t teaching me, you’re just being mean.” You accused, gritting your teeth at the feel of the metal couch frame on your ribs through the fabric.

He chuckled, amused, and an idea popped into your head. You let go of his bandana, and smooth your arms out along the couch as you settled as best you could. “Alright, then, if you two won’t teach me, I’ll just ask Leo.”

Mikey groaned out loud, the annoyed sound being pushed between set teeth as he threw his hands up in the air.

You could feel Raph eye the back of your head, so you tilted it side to side, counting down to see how long the bait would lay there.

“Fine, you wanna learn?” He yanked on your leg, and you squealed, grabbing for a cushion before he pulled you, and it, across the floor.

Raph flipped you over and without hesitation you wielded the couch cushion like a shield, keeping him from tickling you. “No! Raph wa-”

Mikey turned resolutely back to the tv, turning the volume up a little bit to cover up the sounds of you squealing. Raph had finally yanked the cushion from you, and without your barrier he’d quickly found all your ticklish spots.

“This is what you get for not having a protective shell.” He growled playfully and you lost it at the sass, strangling to breath while trying to twist away. “How’re you gonna get out of this, princess? C’mon, think.”

“St-a-St-” You couldn’t get enough breath to get out the full word, settled instead for closing your mouth, desperate to keep your hiccups down and not let your giggles erupt into a belting bray. You could feel the embarrassing noise creeping up, your throat tightening trying to keep it in until Raph hit that spot just under your ribcage just right and it exploded out of you in a loud, dry heave. You wheezed through it, gasping, trying to stop-

Raph rolled you to your side, large hand rubbing up and down your back. He kept up the steady motion until you could draw a short breath.“You alright, sweetheart? Haven’t heard that in a while.”

Mikey was on your other side, looking concerned, and you gave them a wobbly thumbs up, sucking in air again with the occasional wheeze. Raph rolled you back on your back easily, coaxed your arms upwards so your lungs would have more room to expand.

You fought the movement, but he persisted. “Not tickling you again, promise. Gotta get some air back in you.”

“Dude, you about broke her.” Mikey sniggered, and, ignoring the dark look Raph threw his way, reached out to poke your leg. You grumbled at the intrusion, hands still trapped in Raph’s hold. When Mikey poked you again, you snapped out a knee, digging it with precision into the soft line between his plastron and carapace.

“Ow! Babes!”

Raph laughed at his little brother’s problem. “Those knees are lethal.” He squeezed your wrists gently before letting go.

You sat up quickly, retreated back to the couch again where you could tuck into the corner and avoid any more surprises. Both turtles had returned their attention to the tv by the time you had fully caught your breath.

“Raph?” You asked, a parrot of earlier, and he grunted in question, turning an eye to where he thought you were before looking around wildly.

He snorted when he saw you wedged in the corner, a cushion in front and a blanket over you. “You building a fortress?”

You hummed, not about to be distracted. “Will you train me to break out of holds?”

He sighed, the sound resigned, and Mikey poked his arm, squawked when the bigger brother retaliated with a shove.

“Yeah, I will, sweetheart.” He held up a thick finger to cut off your reflexive smile. “But, we do it my way, which means we’re gonna start with strength training.” He turned the finger to jab it against Mikey’s chest, the younger groaning at the pressure, “and you’re helping,” before turning his attention back to you, “Tomorrow show up early, and we’ll get started.”

You nodded, happily tapping your feet, content to return to watching tv, when Raph leaned further against the couch.

“Oh, and princess?” Your head turned to show you were listening, “One more thing.” A hand barreled under the cushion, circled your ankle, and you yelped in surprise as he pulled you, and your makeshift fort, across the couch, back towards your original place behind him.

He gave that one sided smirk that got him in and out of all sorts of trouble, gaze traveling slowly from the hold he had on your ankle to your wide eyes, and rumbled, “leave Fearless out of this, kay?”

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