What If? (Pt.3)

Title: What If? (Pt.3)
Summary: You indulge yourself in a harmless passion, following a train of thought, but when Mikey catches a glimpse it may not be so harmless after all.
Author: Velcr0Kitty
Characters: Mikey x Reader
Word Count: 1750
Warnings: Angst, fluff, body image… issues? I guess? Fighting
Author’s Notes: IT kEePS GRoWING D: welcome to the final chapter. Take a fucking sip babes and strap in.

Part 1

Part 2

Mikey’s hands won’t stop trembling. Every ounce of curiosity and joy in his body had crystallized to a dull, chilling throb caught in his throat. At first Mikey thought the man might have been a friend of yours from before they took you in. He wondered when you had gone to see him, and be gone long enough to draw him. Then, slowly, the similarities trickled through him like ice water. Nothing big, just the pose and the smile. The clear love of 90’s fashion. This drawing in particular had confused him until he saw the title.

 What if? - Mikey

 It winded him. He was fully and truly confused. He couldn’t concentrate. All the focus he had was on the man on the page. His head grew cloudy and his heart jumped into his throat.


Raph’s thunderous steps fade as you enter the room more and more. You cautiously approach the moody turtle. Mikey’s back has been fully turned to you as he leans on the wall. He crosses his arms and lets out a small childish huff, looking over his shoulder a little.

“Well?” he quietly spits. He waits a moment in the empty silence. The stool groans as he whips around to face you, his hurt and anger rising again. “Well?” The venom in his voice makes you flinch.


A single long green finger ran over the man and Mikey felt himself reach that unmistakable lightheadedness that comes right before you cry. His chest twitched inwards as the first small sob escaped involuntarily. Ever since he was a kid he had been incredibly insecure about being a sentient freaking turtle and it was a soft spot for him and his brothers. All of them wish they were human every now and again, but Mikey had finally convinced himself that someone else- and most importantly he- could learn to love him as he is. After he and Y/N spoke for hours in deep and emotional conversation he found himself not being so hard on himself. When he sat down and had to either sit on the edge of the seat or almost lay down because of his bulky shell, instead of mentally cursing himself out for being so large he started cheering himself on cause that size is what took down Donnie the other day in training. When he sees himself in reflections he’s stopped quickly turning away, and instead studying it, testing expressions. He had hope. Every drop of self-doubt leaked back into his pores while he locked eyes with the man he wishes he was.


At your flinch, Mikeys bravado cracks, just a little. As he looks at your small face and your quivering lip he realizes that you were legitimately frightened of him, even if only for a second. He was a monster. A frustrated growl escapes him. He runs his hands over his face then locks his fingers behind his head, turning away from you. You attempt to compose yourself. Mend the damage, lessen the blow.

“Mikey,” you start, unsure how to continue. “Mikey, I’m sorry.” He whips towards you, jaw set. Fire swirls in his eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by it, but I know it hurt you.” Guilt tangles with the fire. You start pacing and your hands twitch and move with your words. “Especially after what you told me, I never should’ve even thought that shit. I convinced myself it was a natural thought to have but that’s not fair to you.” Guilt wins. “I really really care about you and I’d never want to hurt you. Ever.” You start tearing up and your words flow faster and faster. “Mikey, you’re my best friend and I hate that I hurt you but I hope you can forgive me.” Faster still. “Idon’tknowwhatI’ddowithoutyou, please don’t hate me, M.”

You stop pacing and continue to ramble apologies, while beginning to cry. Any resentment Mikey harboured melted away. He thought you didn’t care about him, that you wanted him to change before you could care, but now that he rationally thought about it he knew that was ridiculous.

By this point you are actually blubbering. You hate hurting people and fucking up and confrontation and this is all three. Somewhere in your messy jumble of words you said you would leave him alone so you started to hobble away, aiming for the ice cream in the fridge. A large hand clamps onto your shoulder and spins you around. Mikey hugs you with everything he has while you slowly raise your arms to hug him back. He doesn’t hate me? Both of your minds are reeling. You sob into his chest, gripping him as hard as you can. One hand below your shoulder blades, the other on the back of your head, he shoves you deeper into his chest and rests his face on the top of your head. Mikey breathes you in deeply, his head swimming. Relief laced with shampoo and vanilla overwhelm him until he too is crying. You stay like this for a while.

Once you both stopped crying you awkwardly left saying you’d give him space. He didn’t want you to go, but he pulled himself together and watched you leave. He had crawled into bed and laid awake until Raph returned, climbing in above him. You skulked off to your room bumping into Donnie on the way, who gave you a quick sympathetic hug and went on his way. A hollow feeling crept over you. You put away the art supplies you had on your bed and rolled to the center pulling a blanket over yourself. A minute or two pass and there’s a knock on your door.

“Um, Y/N?” Donnie’s quiet voice carries through the room. You barely peek your head over the blanket to shoot him a look to see him juggling two tubs of ice cream, a bunch of pillows and a laptop. “I figured you could use some company.” He cautiously pads into the room. Quietly, you sit up. Donnie drops everything on the end of your bed and starts setting everything up, eventually settling in beside you. You both sat stiffly next to each other until you moved to cuddle into him. He wraps a comforting arm around you and gently kisses the top of your head and presses play on the movie. You were fine for a few minutes until the stress of the day hot you like a ton of bricks and you started to cry again. Crying sucks. I’ve never fucking cried so much. Donnie rubs your shoulder as you cry yourself to sleep.

It took a few days, but eventually everything between you and Mikey were back to normal. You two were on the couch surrounded by snacks, playing Mario kart and teasing each other. “No, no no nO NO! YOU BITCH” You side check Mikey while a string of curses fall out. A hearty laugh rolls out of him and you join him in giggling. Mikey kept a solid eye on you in his peripheral while you laugh. It makes him melt. You shine in the tv light and Mikey loses all regard for the game, instead watching you. Your eyes flick back and forth between the game and Mikey after noticing his character had gotten severely worse. “Dude, DUDE, you’re losing! MIKEY!”

The race results roll across the screen and you turn to look at him like he punched himself in the face. Concerned, confused, and a little giggly. “What the fuck was that?” He chuffed with a smirk and turned his gaze to his lap.

“Hey, Y/N?” His voice was small, making you pause.

“What up? Are you ok?” He chuckles and laughingly shakes his head.

“Yeah Angelcakes, I’m good.” His body stiffens and tenses as he mentally rehearses. “But uh… ok, Dollface, I gotta just do something real quick, ok?” Your eyebrows crease and your concern only grows.

“Uh, of course? Do what you gotta, man.” You study him for a few moments, waiting. He looks up at you, steels his nerve, and grabs your hand turning to face you. Your clueless self sits in confusion waiting. He looks like he’s in pain. Geez if he wanted some contact he only had to ask. You smile warmly, thinking you’ve figured it out and go to hug him. With miscommunication thicker than dense jungle, Mikey’s nerves slip away thinking you’ve taken initiative. You both close your eyes.

Oh. You think.


Warm. Your face flushes, feeling the heat of the fireworks in your mind. Mikey’s hand snakes to your side and gingerly rests on your waist shooting familiar electricity up his arm as he softly kisses you. You don’t move for a moment, stunned. Mikey’s mind raced thinking he had done something wrong until you slowly brought your free hand to cup his jaw. Your thumb rubs down his cheek and a finger traces patterns where his neck meets his head. Because of this, a small tremor runs through him and rest in his lap, leaving him warm and fuzzy. The large hand on yours tenderly tightens and you turn it upwards, lacing your fingers as best you can. An enchanting fire takes hold of both of you as the kiss deepens.and deepens until you both stop to breathe. Your mind catches up to your body and, after a second and some staggering breaths, your eyes pop open. Mikey’s eyes had opened immediately but his brain won’t catch him for weeks. Your gazes finally meet. His face splits into the most dazzling, soft, dopey, sweet smile you had ever seen that warms you deeply.

“Haaaaoooohk” Mikey mutters under his breath, his wide eyes looking stunned.

“Oh,” you sigh. A sweet moment in the silence then you both break into a laughing fit. In between giggles he slowly lifts your hand, only barely breaking eye contact, and presses it to his lips with a cheeky grin. You both quiet and continue holding hands for a minute.

“That’s gonna happen like waay more often right? Cause I want that to happen way more often.” You crack up again, just a bit.

“Um, duh.”

“Heh, ok. Good.” he states, with a trace of arrogance in his voice. “… Hey Y/N?”


“I’ve never seen someone draw before, could I-” he trails off for a moment, “-maybe watch you do it sometime?” He tries (and fails) to hide his excitement and anticipation. This is the cutest fucking thing.

“Of course.”


Tags: @another-tmnt-writer @girl-next-door-writes @sarazzprime @jam-jar2 @i-know-i-am-weird-thank-you @theclonewarss @gummiwormsandonedirection @chubbygoddess22 @jumpybox @ikindafuckedup-maybe

@pyromantic-technin @IIturner7 @bae-kage @savvy-mutant-turtle-banger your guys tags don’t seem to be working but don’t say I didn’t try

fantastic-fantasy-fanfics  asked:

could I please request a quick drabble where Steve feels insecure about himself (maybe body issues because he feels fake due to the serum) and the reader comforts him? Thank you! Love you! xoxo

Steve collapsed on his bed, burying his face in the soft pillows.

“Steve, what’s wrong?” You asked, sitting down next to him and reassuringly placed a hand on his back.

“I don’t know.” He replied, turning his head up from the pillow so you could hear him clearly. “I’ve been feeling really.. insecure lately.”

“Insecure?” You asked, “About what?”

“About me. My body.” He said, almost ashamed of himself. “While I love that the serum got rid of my diseases and it made me taller and stronger, it feels… fake.”

“Steve, your body is..” You tried to think of a word that wouldn’t sound overly sexualized, but couldn’t, “perfect. And I’m not talking about in a sexy kind of way. You’re not fake. You’re perfect. And I know I keep saying that, but it’s true.” He sat up next to you, his head faced down.

“Really?” He asked.

“Really. That serum made you healthy and strong, and I get why you feel fake, but you’re not. You’re perfect.” He tilted his head to you. You opened your arms and pulled him in for a big hug.

“Thanks.” He said, wrapping his arms around your back and squeezing tighter into the hug. 

A/N: Not too great, sorry about that.

It’s hard to be thankful for negative experiences. It’s hard to see the light in losing someone, and in having body image issues, and struggling with depression and anxiety, and in having severe acne, and in having parents that struggle with addiction, and suppressing emotions, and self harm but like I really am learning that now bc of all of that when I go to help other ppl I know what it’s actually like. I’m not just this perfect person that’s lived a perfect life that’s out here trying to connect with ppl that are broken, when I’m whole. Ppl who are whole will never connect with ppl who are broken, it’s impossible. You can’t connect with people’s experiences until you’ve experienced it yourself. And I think despite how shitty I’ve felt sometimes it means more to me to be able to help other people and be there for other people

v v v interested in nature vs nurture when it comes to mental disorders.  

all my life ive been worried to have a child because (among other things)  i never want it to have to deal with a brain like mine.  like, if i didn’t grow up in an environment that allowed my OCD to flourish, or my anxiety to take over, or one that is just saturated with food and body issues would i be where I am today? can i have a child whose mentally sound and strong?  Like even if the OCD, anxiety, depression, etc is passed down can i counteract its development?  Like by simply normalizing and educating?

can i do that with the whole world rn? like, the amount of time i spent thinking i was the only one who felt the way i felt, or was confused by the way i felt, or angry, etc was just so much fucking wasted time. almost 27 and i feel like i have barely taken advantage of a world of opportunities, tiny and huge. 

i just want to be obnoxiously forward about mental health because its so important. 

Consider this: instead of telling me I’m not chubby when I obviously am, maybe acknowledge it in a positive way? When I causally mention my chubbiness, the last thing I need is “you aren’t chubby! Stop saying that about yourself!” Because that means you very obviously see chubby as a bad thing and that isn’t how you make chubby people feel better for themselves

Our goals aren’t to get skinny. Our goals are to accept who we already are.

People have taken pictures of him before. It started when he was a hilariously ugly baby with two beautiful and talented parents and it didn’t stop until Samwell. (“Hi Jack Zimmermann, You’ve been selected for the Samwell Swallow’s 50 Most Beautiful. When would be a convenient time for us to photograph you? You may bring any props you wish.” Upon showing the email to Shitty: “Shitty, NO.” “But Jack…” “SHITTY NO.”)

He’s taken pictures of himself. The hardest assignment to fulfill for photography class was the self-portrait. Jack ended up photographing his reflection on the Plexiglass above the boards. He looked like a ghost.

This is different. Jack consented to this. 

ESPN’s Body Issue. Naked.

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Being A Healthy Witch

Hi! I know, I know, these tips aren’t just for witches. My blog is just very central to that particular audience, and I wanted to share my little ‘food journey’ with fellow witches, some of whom might be vegan // vegetarian // health conscious. :-)

Okay, so here’s my little story: I’ve had body images for my entire life, and, sadly, they have only gotten worse as I’ve grown older. While I’ve ever been “fat,” I’ve never been happy with my body and the way it looks, and have always longed for perfection // had an irrational fear of packing on pounds. My brain has just always told me, “you’re okay, but you’re not *there* yet. You could be better, prettier, skinnier, and *then* you’ll be there…” such image problems are even worse when topped with severe anxiety and depression // anger issues. I have body dysmorphia. Severely. I know this to be true, no matter how many times my family likes to remind me (not in a mean way at all - they only want me to be healthy and happy). I’ve suffered through both consistent and on/off self-harm since sixth grade, emotional eating, depersonalization, under-eating, unhealthy “promiscuous” actions at a young age, and making myself throw up.

But this post isn’t to list off my disorders. It is to share my own progress, and serve as a reminder to myself - and others - that eating does not have to feel like a burden or a chore. Believe me, I am nowhere near finished with my unhealthy mindset. I still dread having to eat. (Too bad there isn’t a spell to get rid of anxiety)! But the thing is, is that I dread it that much less when I know that what I’m putting in my body is healthy. In addition, there is magick in cooking, and it makes preparing food for myself and my boyfriend that much more exciting. I long to eat sweets and just shove a bunch of food in my mouth, trust me! But lately I have been resistant to that, and have strived for eating clean. I haven’t eaten meat or bread in such a long time! When we go out, it is vegan and dairy free 99.9% of the time.

Here is a list of some healthy things that I have found a love for making or snacking on over this past year.

• Overnight Oats - DIY oatmeal prepared in a mason jar, left to refrigerate overnight and to be eaten in the morning! Can contain anything you like. (I usually use bananas, mixed berries, almond milk, honey, cinnamon, shaved coconut, and chia seeds, all on top of rolled oats).

• Peanut butter w/ bananas or apples.

• Fruit smoothies w/ protein powder and chia seeds.

• Vegan sausage.

• Homemade rosemary/garlic potatoes.

• Crunchy granola/mixed nuts (a great substitute for snacking on chips).

• Scrambled eggs with green peppers.

• Chickenless chicken strips.

• Apple slices topped w/ tuna (unless you are full vegan/vegetarian) and dried cranberries.

• Pickles.  

• Ants on a log!

• Fruit acai/chia seed breakfast bowls.

• Tuna-stuffed avocado. 

• Pasta w/ beefless ground (tastes real)!! 

• Wheat toast w/ peanut butter, honey, and granola. 

• Honey, apricot, and almond butter on low-fat crackers. 

 • Vegan grilled cheese w/ jam. 

• Vegan protein bars (I recently discovered this delicious brand called GoMacro - and they have them at 7-11)!!

 • Cucumber, dill, and (vegan) cream cheese sandwiches. 

 • Fruit pizza - bagel w/ (vegan) cream cheese spread and topped w/ mixed fruits. 

 • All of the fruits and vegetables!!! 

I know a lot of you may have body issues too, and have a hard time eating or wanting to eat. I personally choose to only drink water, and try hard to eat clean and always take daily vitamins. Once you introduce healthier things into your diet, it becomes gradually easier to not “fear food” again, and learn some fun recipes along the way! The goal is not only to accept that your body is your only one, but to let your insides thank you for feeding it such healthy, yummy things. (Oh, and for larger meals, don’t forget about homemade vegetable soups, veggie burgers, salads, or vegan tacos)! I hope that this helps someone! 🌟 and feel free to tell me your own ideas/recipes! I’d love to have some more :-)

There’s a lot of isolation you feel, growing up fat in the gay community. I’m 26 and still insecure about my body in that regard. I’m not a twink. I’m not 5'10" and skinny and tan. I’m not the stereotypical ideal of what a gay “male” is supposed to look like. I’m fat. I’m hairy. I have imperfect teeth. So I’m categorized as a “bear” even though I’m not the ideal in that category either. I’m not 6'3 and only heavy in the tummy with thick thighs and a perfectly chubby butt and a boy next door face. I don’t look cute in slightly sagged jeans and a baseball cap. I don’t look like a high school football player that gained 65 pounds after graduation, and that’s what ideal bears “look like.”

I’m non-binary, and that makes me feel like I don’t belong anywhere, on top of those other issues. I’ve been told to lose weight in dating apps. Told I was too big. No fats. Not my preference. Sorry. Straight up blocked once people realized I was not skinny. On more than four occasions. I have been so ashamed of my body I’ve wanted to starve myself. I didn’t swim shirtless in public until I was 25 years old. 25. And I cried before I left the locker room my anxiety was so strong. My body hair was a flaw until I was 26 and embraced it. I was 23 before my own mother new I had chest hair because she’d never in my post pubescent life seen me with no shirt on. I wouldn’t leave or enter any room in my house without a shirt, because my chest hair was so embarrassing for me.

I have always been “too” something. Too fat. Too hairy. Too feminine. Too outrageous. My height has never been an issue, though, outside of dating apps. At a towering 6'5 and size 15 shoe, I get messages constantly from foot fetish people. People who want to see my feet in pictures. Or talk about my soles. Or want to smell my socks. Objectified for those singular attributes, which makes me feel like I exist in a paradox. Both outside, and in the middle, at the cross section of /something/, I just can’t put in to words what that something is.

Gainers message me and want to feed me food in bed. Fetishists messaging me wanting to play with my feet. No one else messages me at all. I’m average looking, though I don’t feel like I’m ugly. My bio mentions Beyoncé and horror movies and not much else. Typical white gay interests that would allow people who look like Colton Haynes the freedom to speak to anyone they choose. The rest of us are not so lucky.

I love the gay community, but it is not without its flaws. Those of us who do not look the part are not welcome, and that’s got to change. We’re being forgotten. Smothered out. Left behind. Who’s going to save us, when no one in our own community cares about us?

Dumb genius

fandom: Stony (Steve x Tony)

summary: Tony starts to hate his additional pounds which leads to starving and self hatred and feeling unworthy of dating a person like Steve. Luckily, Steve knows better

length: 1 243 words

warnings: body acceptance fic with chubby!Tony, mentions of alcoholism

a/n: filling in more prompts! this fic is a bit on the sad side, but has a happy ending. hope you like it!


Dumb genius

Tony groaned, doing his best to suck his stomach in. Almost, almost there… Done! He managed to pull the zipper up and even button the black slacks. He looked in the mirror, turning around. Not bad. He just couldn’t breathe. That was a minor discomfort. He also noticed that the material clung around his hips and butt. Nothing a long jacket wouldn’t fix. If only the jacket would fit too, that was…

Giving up, Tony groaned louder, sliding a hand down his face. When did it happen that he stopped fitting in his own pants? He noticed that he had gained a bit of weight, but didn’t realize that it was that bad. Damn sweatpants with elastic. They mislead him as the material was stretching with his growing waist, and he didn’t think that it was so bad.

“Babe, are you ready?!”

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