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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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Welcome Home Agere Fic - Baby’s Instinct Ch. 2

Characters: Little!Wally Darling, CG! Poppy Partridge, CG!Missy McBee (OC), CG! Eddie Dear, CG! Barnaby B. Beagle

Chapters: 2-4(?)

Setting: Poppy’s Barn (living room, kitchen), Missy’s Hive (restaurant, upstairs apartment), Eddie’s Post Office (front desk, upstairs apartment), Barnaby’s Dog House (living room, bathroom, guest bedroom)

Premise: Just the various little things that Wally calls his caregivers.

Author’s Note: First fic with an oc!! Figured I would practice writing my own characters and this is a good way to practice! Hope you guys like Missy :>>

Also she does speak Spanish momentarily in this fic, I used an AI to help translate so do let me know if it is accurate cjvjvj

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Chapter 2: MISSY

McBee’s was a fairly new restaurant that had opened nearby Welcome Home, but it had quickly become a town landmark for being a nice change of pace for the townsfolk. The owner - Missy McBee - and a whole heaping amount of coworkers had moved from the lovely South in order to further pursue her dream of cooking for others, and with the opening of her restaurant it wad pushed further.

With that, she also connected well with the townsfolk; gossiping and laughing with Julie and Poppy, sharing her woes in with with Eddie and Howdy, and - most importantly - meeting the ever so mysterious Wally Darling.

Wally was a case of being so friendly yet ever so secretive. Those eyes had something to hide, yet she wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was how he spoke, how robotic his laughter was, or maybe the way he was almost never alone, usually accompanying a friend of his by hand or by ride.

Missy was curious, but didn’t want to push. Running her business was more important than focusing on one single resident of the town, so there wasn’t much of a point to focus on him.

However, it soon made itself apparent that she should’ve been attentive.

It was a regular day at work, half of her worker bees taking orders left and right, and the other half cooking the orders given. The smell of fresh food filled the air, motivating Missy to work even more as she buzzed around the restaurant, looking for a customer.

The first customer that had caught her eye was none other than the aforementioned Wally Darling, sitting tensely at his spot on one of the checkered tables fiddling with his red ascot. Missy straightened her back and cleared her throat, before quickly making her way towards the bluenette.

“Well good morning, dear! Welcome to McBee’s, where every meal is buzzing with flavor for the whole family! My name is Missy, and I will be your waitress for today. What can I get started for you, hun?” A phrase she had no problem memorizing for every customer, she waited patiently for the bluenette to answer. It took… a concerning amount of time for him to answer.

She figured he didn’t hear her.

*snap snap*

“You awake, hun?”

She saw how he flinched harshly at the sound of her fingers snapping together, his closed fists clenching tighter. She began to notice little details about his demeanor, most of them concerning her.

His shoulders were hunched and curled around his chest, his hands clasped together tightly, and his head hovering over the table. He was shaking as well, and that tell-tale grin was wavering ever so slightly. Even then, he seemed to keep his posture to the best of his ability, presenting himself as stable.

This concerned Missy greatly. She needed to do something.

“Hun… do you need a minute? Is everything alright?”, she questioned him. Wally jerked a bit from his seat, his startled gaze meeting hers. He stared for a moment, before swallowing hard and muttering a small ‘no.’ Missy frowned at that shaking her head.

“Cariño, you look about as nervous as a fly in a glue factory, are you sure you don’t need a minute?” Missy rested her lower hands on her hips, bending forward to the smaller one’s level. The aforementioned puppet wrapped his arms around his body slowly, squeezing tightly. He exhaled, his breath wavering.

Missy furrowed her brow, thinking hard, before snapping her fingers as an idea struck. She turned behind herself towards the nearest waiter bee, quickly speeding towards him.

“¡Oye, puedes encargarte de la cocina por un rato? Tengo un cliente que necesita ayuda y parece tenso, necesito que alguien seencargue,” she quickly said to him. The waiter bee nodded, before zooming towards the kitchen. Missy then hurried back to where the bluenette had been sitting, then crouched to his level.

“Hey, amiguito,” she started, “do you want to go out back to take a breather? You look like a balloon just ‘bout to deflate, hm?”

Wally stared up at her, still slightly shaking, then nodding hesitantly. They took each other’s hands before walking out of the swinging front doors, the cool outside air hitting them as the doors closed behind them. Almost as soon as they knew they were outside, Wally’s breathing hitched as tears streamed down their face. They fell onto their bottom and curled up into a ball, crying uncontrollably and startling Missy greatly.

“Ah- Wally?!,” she exclaimed, “are you alright? Oh dear-“ Missy quickly fell to her knees and propped herself in front of the sobbing man. He continued to cry, his head in his knees and his hands clamped around his ears and head. Missy then noticed that she could make something out of his inelegant blubbering.

“It- it woud…” he cried, “it too woud in der’, it huwt-“ It was all she could manage to hear before he went back to sobbing into himself. His words were slurred and were that of a young child’s. She wasn’t sure why exactly, but clearly he was in a very vulnerable state.

“It’s too loud in there, honey?” she questioned him gently. Wally scrubbed his face with his sleeve, sniffling and nodding. Missy ‘aww’ed at that, shaking her head.

“I know you must be very upset, mi chiquitín,” she said, her voice low and soft, “but would you like a hug? Hugs usually make me feel better.” The bee held out her upper and lower arms wide around herself, offering the chance for him to take. Thankfully, Wally nodded slowly, before scooting towards and resting himself against her. She wrapped her arms tightly around his tiny body, enveloping him in a loving and comforting embrace as he continued to cry into her chest. She spent the moment rubbing his hair and back slowly, gently shushing him and whispering “it’s okay” and “it’ll be alright” and “I’m here”.

Wally’s crying died down a little bit not too long after, only the occasional hiccup and whimper. Missy took this to tilt his head towards her, his gaze fitting hers.

“There… all better, now?” she asked him, the baby bluenette nodding tiredly. The waitress slowly unraveled her arms from his body, though hesitantly, and sat back. The tiny painter rubbed his eyes and sniffled, his breathing wavering but stable.

“I sowwy…” Wally whimpered, wiping his arms over his eyes. One hand was close to his mouth, the thumb tracing his lips.

“You have nothing to be sorry about, honey,” she reassured, rubbing his shoulder, “I promise you.” She took notice of how close his thumb was to his mouth, but ignored it.

The two fell into a momentary silence, filled only with Wally’s sniffling and Missy’s comforting words. They let themselves fall into each other’s presence, feeling a sense of trust between the two. The quiet and chilly air juxtaposed from the busy, loud interior of the hive was a calming feeling, not as overwhelming as it was before. It felt much nicer, much better.

Missy soon broke the silence between the two after a short while.

“You want to go back inside now, hun?” She asked gently, referring to his spot inside the restaurant. Wally jumped at that and furiously shook his head no. Missy frowned at that, before she smiled once more at a new idea. She looked to her right and… yep, outside tables. Perfect.

“Would you like to eat outside instead?”, she suggested, “I have some tables out here if you would like to sit here.” The little bluenette looked over to her side, staring at the tables for a bit. She could tell he was thinking about it. He soon looked back at her and nodded slowly.

Missy smiled back. She slowly stood from her spot in front of him, holding out a hand to pull him up. Once the two were standing once more, she led the bluenette to one of the small hexagon tables near them, before sitting him down at one of the bench chairs surrounding it.

“Now, I’m gonna go back inside and get you a menu, okay? While I’m gone, stay right here. I’ll be back, okay amiguito?” The waitress kept her voice soft and gentle. Wally tussled at his ascot timidly, before nodding.

“Otay, mom- mm, ma’am,” he responded. Her eyes widened slightly, taken aback for a second.

Did he just call her… no, he couldn’t. There’s no way. She isn’t mom material.

Well, no time to worry about it. She had to feed this kid. She cleared her throat, straightening her back and brushing off her apron.

“Alrighty. Stay really still while I get your menu, hun,” she said with a buzz in her step. She turned back to the front doors of the hive and quickly made her way inside, that response still buzzing in her mind. It felt.. fitting, almost.

Well, if that was the case, as well have Mom feed her baby.

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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AAAAA,,,

Hi 👋

Can you please write about baby Howdy being taken care of by Eddie and Frank please? (There is a criminal lack of baby Howdy in the wh agere community lmao)

If not that’s ok you enjoy your day/night neighbor!

🌸 anon

Thank you for letting me write this, genuinely, these three melt my dang heart! [art piece]

The soft scrape of a broom and a small whistling sweeps through the store as Howdy cleans up for the day. The windows were wiped down, the counter cleaned, and the stock re-stocked. With a few more sweeps and a dump of the dustpan, everything is well. Howdy all but collapses onto the stool behind the counter, smiling and wiping his brow with his sleeve. Tiredly he stares at the ceiling fan's spinning, top set of arms crossed and bottom set propping him on the counter.

He does adore his job - why wouldn't he? - but some days he just feels tired beyond belief.

The door dings and he sits up, grabbing his hat with a start, realizing he'd forgotten to flip the closed sign. And speaking of forgetting, Eddie walks up to the counter with a casual smile.

"Hiya Howdy!" he waves.

"Eddie, hello! I close at 8, did you forget?" Howdy is speaking slower than normal, and Eddie can't help looking at the circles under his eyes and the way his face sags. He smiles worriedly, tilting his head.

"Y' all good, neighbor?"

Howdy pauses, blinking unfocusedly like he just woke up. "Oh, I'm... Yes! Yes, I'm fine, Dear!"

"Y' look all... downtrodden or somethin'." Eddie reaches out a hand and touches his forehead. "Y'r all warm too- Howdy are you sick?!"

"No! No, caterpillars never get sick. I'm sharp as a whip, like always!"

Eddie looks him over, concerned. "Howdy... Y'know, it has been a while since you 'rested' proper." Eddie holds his cheeks gently. "You should let me call Frank over! We have missed babysittin'."

"Eddie, I-" Howdy's cheeks go blue and he looks to the floor. "I'd hate to inconvenience you, Ed!" His voice is putting on his usual tone, barely concealing how exhausted he sounds.

"Hm," Eddie frowns softly. It changes to a smile as he gets an idea. "How much would it cost?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Me gettin' to take care of my lil' bug for the night! How much?"

Howdy blinks and touches his chin, taking in the thought. He chuckles weakly, sighing. His top set of hands set against Eddie's own on his cheeks, and his bottom set rest on Eddie's shoulders.

"I dunno' Eds, what'd ya have on you?"

Eddie digs one hand into his pocket, and comes up with a few glittery stickers and a slightly melted chocolate bar. "Uhhh- I think I'll pay with a joke," he chuckles.

"Lay it on me!"

"Heh. Do you know why babies born on holidays are more likely to be little girls?"

"No, why?"

"Cuz there's no mail delivery!"

Howdy's nose scrunches and he snorts out a laugh that turns into a much louder laugh, covering his mouth with his hand and hugging his own stomach. "Mail delivery! Oh my!" He settles, looking much more relaxed as he lets himself lean on the counter. "Alright, alright. You can call up Frank."

Thirty minutes later, the three are together in the apartment above the bodega, Eddie and Frank fussing over Howdy. Frank picked out pajamas for him - green ones with red stripes on the pants. Eddie washed his pacifier since it was hidden in a drawer, and coaxed him through the embarrassment of using it.

Frank is laying on the bed with Howdy on his chest - which practically engulfs him under him. Eddie is making snacks for the three of them in the little kitchen. Frank lets out a breath, only frowning a little.

"Howdy, it's not good to strain yourself so much. You're only one bug, you can't work nonstop."

"Mm... Make me feel good to work though!" Howdy mumbles around the pacifier.

"I know you like having things to do with your hands all the time, but that's why you have these." He reaches to the bedside table and grabs a little tangle toy and a rubix cube, holding them up to him. "I ordered these so you don't feel like you need to work 24/7."

Howdy closes his eyes and presses his face against Frank's stomach. "Sorry, baba," he mutters.

"You're not in trouble, bug," Frank sighs. "Eddie and I love taking care of you, but you also need to care for yourself." He pets his hand through Howdy's hair, just soft.

"Who wants popcorn and candy!" Eddie calls as he enters with two big bowls held aloft.

"Eddie! Don't hold them that high, you'll fall!"

Eddie chuckles, and successfully makes it to the bed. It's a small one-bug bed, so they all have to squish together. Howdy's antennae point towards the candy, wiggling softly. "Y' hungry, lovebug?"

"A lil'," Howdy says as he pulls out his pacifier. "Only had breakfast."

"Howdy!" they both scold in unison. Howdy giggles, covering his face.

"Sorry pa, sorry baba."

"Well, at least eat now," Frank says, shoving the bowls towards him. Howdy nods and complies with no fight, grabbing food with all four of his hands and eating quickly.

"I feel like we need... Like a chore chart, but for takin' care of yourself."

"That's an excellent idea, Eddie. And I know you are already planning to craft it very pretty for him."

"O'course I am!" Eddie puffs his chest, grinning at Howdy. "I know this baby bug loves everything I craft!"

"I do!" Howdy says, excited by the idea as well.

Eddie digs in his pocket and pulls back out the three stickers. Little glittering hearts. He peels them and sticks them each to Howdy's cheeks with a 'boop!' Howdy smiles, and it's not exactly happiness. It's more of a release. Allowing himself to let go of the stress, and fully slide into regression.

He does get less talkative now, seeing as he regresses to around 2-3 years old. Eddie and Frank don't mind one bit, chatting and snuggling up to him while all of them snack. The sun goes down outside, and Eddie declares it a sleepover. All three pile close together in that little bed, Howdy sandwiched peacefully between his pa and baba.

sfw interaction only

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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Hope I’m not bothering but I would like to politely request some poly content (Eddie/Frank/Howdy) pls

Only if you want to ofc

awwwwww!!! Yes yes yesss I love them poly ship sooooo much !!!! 😔🤌💖💖

They're super cutie boyyysss ahhhhh 🥺🤲💖

#ACTUALLY CRIES WAAAAAA #I love the buggers #so much…..#holds them in my hands #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home eddie #eddie dear #welcome home frank #frank frankly #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #not my art #gummunity posts

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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WA…,,,

Okay maybe a little more than just kisses bc I fuckin. Love them OTL 💛💛

#silly gay men #love them smmmm #also the way you draw smoochin is so soft #welcome home #welcome home project #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home eddie #eddie dear #welcome home frank #frank frankly #not my art #gummunity posts

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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I just realized that I’m headcanoning someone else’s oc with a disorder I don’t even have bc I liked him

Ok never doing that again

#this is addressing the whole eddie tourettes post I just deleted #so sorry that you unfortunately can’t see it now #i should be more mindful about that #gummunity posts

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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Guys how do I headcanon a character with Tourette’s without making it seem like I’m romanticizing it or making it seem cute

#i don’t have Tourette’s so I need to be smart with this #I’m just trying my best and aaaaaa #help an artist out lol #gummunity posts

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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I AM…… IRRECOVERABLE…..

Heya!! Just wanted to say that I am obsessed with yer acc and I love it to bits

Also, if you’re comfortable, do you mind writing a fic with Eddie taking care of a small Frank? Only if you’re ok w it

Hope you have a good weekend either way!!

I'm glad you're enjoying my account, neighbor! Enjoy the softest thing I've made yet!

Eddie slips through the front door tiredly after a long shift to a silent house - not unusual, but not exactly normal. As he hangs up his hat he gazes around confusedly. Frank usually meets him at the door with a kiss and tea, seeing all is well. So, he concludes, all must not be well.

With a nervous smile, he walks through to the kitchen, calling to his husband. "Frank? Hello?" He finds everything downstairs empty. Upstairs his calls still don't get anything, so he enters their bedroom. His panic melts as he sees Frank there on their bed, laying on his face on the pillows.

"Hey, hon. All well?"

Frank silently waves an arm at him, and Eddie suppresses a chuckle. He goes and sits beside him, which gets Frank to roll over stiffly onto his back, frowning so much it makes Eddie smile in amusement.

"You okay, sweet?"

"I'm fine." Frank speaks as stiffly as he lays, glaring at the ceiling. Eddie hums, and leans over him, setting a hand on each side of his head.

"One," he prompts.

"Two," Frank sighs.

"Three."

"Four."

"Five!" Eddie takes a deep breath, and Frank copies him, letting them out in unison. "Is it a 'too loud' day or a 'too quiet' day?"

"Too quiet," Frank groans, setting his own hands over Eddie's. "I keep trying to do things but none of them are enough 'thing', it's all so vapid!"

"Careful, sweet, you'll get your head goin'."

"I'm fine, Eddie. With you here I can find something or other to do."

Eddie's eyes flit around their room with a hum, until his eyes fall to a set of wooden toys on the desk, seemingly tinkered with earlier today. He smiles, and sets his forehead on Frank's own.

"Need a play day, Frank?"

Frank sighs, deflating. "That's definitely something to do, at least."

20 minutes later, the remaining distress in Frank is gone. Eddie and he are making magazine collages on the floor, Frank wearing much less professional clothing in the form of shorts with butterflies along them, and one of Eddie's sleep shirts. The wood toys surround them along with a few plush toys. Eddie peeks at Frank's paper - having told him to make a mood board of how he feels - and smiles to find a combination of specific species of beetles with a word cut from paragraphs of text glued next to each of them.

"What does all that mean, sweet?"

"Beetle and a word that relates to me... and to the beetle."

Eddie points. "The blue one is.... 'disdainful'?"

"Yes," Frank nods, his face scrunching up. "Does Gibbifer californicus not look disdainful?"

"Ain't that one called 'the pleasing beetle'?" Eddie smirks.

"I'm surprised you remember.... Being pleasing all the time is disdainful-"

Eddie cuts him off by rubbing his hair and laughing. "I think you're too small for big fancy words like that."

Frank's face pinches, considering it. "I'm not that small yet..." He meets Eddie's eyes, loving the happiness and peace he sees there. "Maybe being pleasant all the time isn't that disdainful."

"Uh huh," Eddie teases. "Well, the fella needs a new word now! I'll go get y' juice if you can work real hard on that for me?"

"Okay," Frank focuses hard on the pages as Eddie slips out. He stares so hard at the words, most of them stop making sense. He sets his mouth into his palms, propped on his elbows. This 'pleasing beetle' is difficult, wordless, and annoying.

He rubs his eyes hard. He feels so big, with all the worries and troubles, yet so small at the same time. He feels like a crowd of scribbles is filling his brain.

A large, gentle hand pulls him out of his worries, like a bright light clearing away fog. Eddie is smiling at him- he's always smiling at him. And sometimes, like now, he smiles back.

"Made some orange juice!" Eddie holds out a sippy cup with pill bugs and snails patterned on it. Neither of them remember what catalogue they ordered it from, but they're glad they did. It's Frank's favorite cup, actually probably his favorite thing he owns in general. He accepts it happily.

Eddie moves right beside him, sitting down and pulling Frank into his lap. Frank lets himself be held, tiredly resting his head on Eddie's chest. Eddie starts humming the way he often does, discordant and distant. He rocks the two of them softly, just the way Frank likes. If he didn't feel small before, he definitely does now.

He pats Eddie's cheek. "Cartoons, please Ed?"

"My, when did I go back to 'Ed' status, love?" Eddie touches his chest in mock disbelief. Frank pats his face repeatedly and Eddie guffaws under the onslaught. "Okay, okay, I'll get cartoons goin'!"

The two end up on the couch while the T.V. plays, Frank laying against Eddie's chest half asleep. Eddie rubs his back rhythmically, watching his face. Frank's eyes are closed, and for once there's no tenseness in his shoulders or way of holding himself. He just looks at peace, unbothered. Eddie hardly ever gets to see him unbothered, and is about the only one who gets to at all.

"Eddie? Why are you staring?"

"Because I love you∼" he says in the sappiest voice he can muster. Frank snorts out a laugh, that particularly happy one he does that's so ugly it's handsome. "It's true, I do!" He kisses Frank's forehead four times in a row before releasing him. Frank hides his face in his husband's shirt, stifling his embarrassed laughter.

"I love you too, of course I do." Frank yawns and relaxes again, drifting sleepily. Frank takes Eddie's left hand, their rings clicking against each other.

"Wanna play some more, hon? If things are still too quiet, 'n all."

"I think... I think I'm fine right here. I like this show."

"Uh huh, of course, the show," Eddie teases, but he sets his hand back on Frank's back and closes his eyes. They both settle again, clinging to each other sweetly. "I love you, my little baby."

"Love you, Eddie."

Cartoons play on through the hours, even when the pair are sound asleep. Even asleep, their hands stay latched loosely. I will be here for you forever, it seems to whisper where their skin touches.

sfw interaction only

#omg they’re so soft……#eddie communicating with small frank through crafts is so eddie #also why is imagining frank in eddie’s sleep shirt so cute #they’re perfect aaaa…. great job…#gold star ⭐️#welcome home puppet show #welcome home #welcome home agere #sfw agere #agere #age regression #fandom agere #agere headcanons #welcome home frank #frank frankly #welcome home eddie #eddie dear #gummunity post

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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This one please!!!

Gimme ur OCS

#pls draw cutie rat baby #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home arg #welcome home oc #gummunity post

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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AAA,,,,,,,

hashtag bug kiss moment!

#HOLD THEM IN MY HABDS #i love #the policule #so much #they’re so perfect hfgjgk #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home puppet show #welcome home eddie #eddie dear #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home frank #frank frankly #not my art #gummunity posts

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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Doodled an entire fruitcake before bed

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#he is just the epitome of babygirl to me #i love him sm #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home wally #wally darling #digital art #digital artist #procreate #gummunity art

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

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Welcome Home Agere Fic - Baby’s Instinct

Characters: Little!Wally Darling, CG! Poppy Partridge, CG!Missy McBee (OC), CG! Eddie Dear, CG! Barnaby B. Beagle

Chapters: 1-4(?)

Premise: Just the various little things that Wally calls his caregivers.

Author’s Note: Ok two things: One, this might be my biggest writing project yet. I’m planning on going with four chapters PLUS an oc, so I’m really getting dynamic with my interactions. Hopefully, this works out in my favor, lol

Wish me luck!!

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Chapter 1: POPPY

The smell of Poppy’s kitchen always filled Wally with joy, but oh so much hunger.

The titular painter had been babysat by his feathered fellow for the day, and she had decided to bake him a special treat, for he had been very polite and well-mannered to her. He cleaned his toys, went to sleep on nap time, and even said please and thank you. Behavior like this was to be rewarded properly.

Wally sat eagerly in front of the oven, watching as his reward grew from the heat. Poppy had promised to make him these apple cinnamon muffins if he was polite - one of his favorites- so he made sure he was on his best behavior possible. Thankfully, even if it took some proper puppy-eyes to convince her fully, his manners got him the reward he desperately wanted.

Wally practically bounced on his knees as he pressed against the glass of the oven, giggling excitedly as he did. Poppy had dressed him in the cutest red and yellow onesie, and even gave him a matching hat just to add to the cuteness. Seeing him this giddy in his getup was an adorable sight to behold for the feathered mother.

“Muffin, muffin, I wan’ muffin!”, Wally excitedly said while tapping on the glass frantically. Poppy chuckled, gently running a wing against the waving hand. “I know dear, but you must be patient, you know? It needs to take a little longer to be perfect, okay?”

Wally nodded, still staring intensely at the muffins. Poppy shook her head admirably, a low chuckle and hum as she sat beside her giggling baby.

Soon time went by, and a resounding ‘ding!’ rang through the kitchen. Wally practically sprang into his feet, jumping and waving his hands in excitement.

“They done they done!!”, he yelled giddily, “take ‘em out!” Poppy nodded, reaching for her oven mitts and sliding them on her wings carefully. She waved her baby away from the hot oven and opened the door, the hot air hitting her like a brick. She moved the hot wire rack towards her to grab the muffin tin… until she saw a tiny yellow hand reach forward.

“Wally, NO-“ she shouted, but it was too late. He had touched the tin.

“OWIE-“ he wailed, immediately retracting his hand from the tin and holding it close. Tears began to bead at the corners of his eyes, his hand burnt slightly and shaking. Poppy immediately pulled the tin from the oven, closing the oven shut and ripping off her mitts. She quickly moved towards the sniffling baby, and cradled the burnt hand in hers.

“Oh honey,” she cooed worriedly, “you know you shouldn’t touch hot metal!” She bent and twisted the hand gently to see if the damage was severe, afraid of how burnt her baby was. He sniffled, wiping his free hand underneath his runny nose and teary eyes.

“I sorry, m’ just wann’ed th’ muffins…” he whimpered, his voice wavering heavily and hiccuping loudly. Poppy frowned deeply, planting a quick chaste smooch on the top of his head before picking him up. She rested him cradled on her wing, his burnt hand still being held by the other.

She walked to the sink and ran the faucet of refreshing cold water, checking to make sure it was cold enough. She then led Wally’s injured hand towards the water, and let it run over his burn and cool it down. The pain subsided soon after, and Wally retracted his hand from the water then.

“Are you feeling better, baby?” Poppy asked Wally. He nodded, his earlier distress a thing in the past.

“You must be more careful around hot things like that, sweetie! You got really hurt! Promise me you won’t do that again, will you?” Wally guiltily averted his eyes, then nodded. Poppy pulled him into a tight embrace, him going limp in her presence.

Poppy then began to carry him towards the living room, where her blanketed nest sat. It was a huge room filled with just about anything, but mostly with a large tv, a pantry, a large coffee table with a complimentary coffee maker, and a large hay and pillow-covered couch. It was a space built for everyone, and it fit everyone perfectly.

She carefully laid Wally down comfortably on the nest, the pillows cushioning him from the itchy hay. She patted his head with her wing, then turned to go back to the kitchen. “I’m going to go back and get the muffins, alright dear?”

Wally’s initial excitement for the muffins returned, his smile returning and his hands now clapping once more. He watched as Poppy carefully removed each muffin from the tin and placed them onto a large plate, before grabbing two smaller plates and placing one of the muffins onto each plate.

She then went her way towards the once more excited baby, the plates in her wings. Once she got to the nest, she handed Wally one of the plates, and sat beside her with her own.

“Now, the muffin here is really hot, okay?” Poppy warned the excitable boy, “It just came from the oven and needs a bit to cool. Can you blow on it to cool it off, honey?” Wally quickly nodded before turning back to his plate. He pursed his lips into an O shape and blew harshly at the hot muffin, earning a giggle from Poppy.

Once he figured the muffin was cooled off fully, he carefully held the muffin and took a big blink from the side.

The muffin was light and fluffy, with the occasional crunch from the bits of apple stuck inside. It smelled amazing, the cinnamon sugar creating a sweet and aromatic scent, and the apples bringing the flavors together without overwhelming the muffin.

Wally was quite literally on cloud nine, munching away at the delicious confection. Poppy smiled, biting carefully herself at her own muffin, making sure no crumbs got stuck to the hay beneath her.

“Now, Wally,” she started, “what do we say when we’re given something?” Wally wiped his sleeve messily against his mouth, swallowing any chunks of muffin down to talk properly.

“F’ank you, mama.”

Poppy’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden nickname.

He…he called her mama.

Mama.

That’s her, that’s mama.

She cleared her throat, trying to fight the urge to scoop him up and kiss him all over his face.

“You’re welcome, baby,” she said, patting her baby on his head. He smiled, leaning into the touch and cuddling beside her, still munching on the muffin.

His mama was always there, they both knew it.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

Text

Welcome Home Agere Fic - Sing Me to Sleep

Characters: Little!Howdy Pillar, CG!Barnaby B. Beagle

Setting: Howdy’s Bodega (Checkout Desk, Upstairs Breakroom)

Premise: Barnaby notices that his good pal Howdy is overworking himself to the point of losing sleep. Concerned and determined to help his buddy out, he decides to sing him a lullaby to help him sleep. The next morning, he discovers something about Howdy he initially didn’t think he did.

Author’s Note: Another agere fic, this time with Howdy!! I kinda headcanon Barnaby and Howdy as childhood friends, like Barnaby befriended him while he stayed at the farm with his ma, so here it’s mentioned for a bit at the beginning. Hope that’s ok!!

Also the lullaby that Barnaby sings is ai generated, not an original song, so don’t think I write songs too jfkgk

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Ever since the bodega opened in the town of Welcome Home, the lovable yet goofy Barnaby B. Beagle always made a point of visiting. Considering it was run by an old pal of his - that being the ever so hardworking Howdy Pillar - he couldn’t just ignore it! It even had all his favorite things in it; rubber duckies, party horns, endless streams of ribbons, the whole nine! For the price of just a simple trade as well, it was a perfect store!

Of course, it wouldn’t be the same without the man of the hour - or say, caterpillar. Barnaby had always admired the blood and sweat put into every little detail of the bodega, from the paint jobs to the shelving and even to the currency. It was a marvelous sight to see, but he couldn’t expect less from such a diligent and determined shopkeeper. Always toiling and moiling and working himself to the bone to make sure that progress did well and that every customer left with a big smile on their face, he could do no bad.

That… did bring a glaring problem to the surface, however: he did this all the time.

Because his never-ending perseverance and his insistence to make sure that business was booming at the seams, he often tired himself out. And by often, that meant a lot.

The bags under the titular caterpillar’s eyes looked as if they’ve been personally drawn on with permanent marker, with how dark they were. Often times, Barnaby would accidentally catch Howdy almost falling asleep at his checkout desk, but immediately perking up when he noticed that the comedian was watching. He would wake up and catch Howdy still up at the tender hours of night sweeping the floors or wiping the windows or even restocking the shelves.

It was concerning, to say the least. He had occasionally brought up the idea that Howdy could at least lay low for a short while, take a small break. However, the poor shopkeeper would break into a nervous sweat and go, “Oh but who will run the front counter while I’m gone? I’m the only one who works here, I can’t stop now! This shop will go belly-up if I quit here, I just can’t!” It almost broke the dog’s beating heart to see him in such a fit of distress.

He wanted to fix that, and he knew exactly how.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

The sun set behind the trees one hot and sweaty evening, and Howdy was finishing up the last of his chores for the night: restocking the shelves, sweeping up any dust and grime, and wiping the front windows squeaky clean. Barnaby took quick note of this and strolled towards him, humming a jovial tune.

“Well howdy do, Howdy! Lovely afternoon we got here, but golly is it sweltering! I feel like I’m on Hell’s front porch with a pipin’ fever right about now, huh?” Barnaby greeted himself, chuckling as he did. Howdy looked up from wiping the front window, rubbing his sleepy lids with his lower right hand and smiling drowsily.

“You’re not wrong Barnaby, heh! I can feel myself melting like a snow cone in Phoenix!” He replied, wiping his forehead of the pooling sweat and turning back to wiping the windows clean. Barnaby snickered, nodding his head to the statement.

An awkward silence fell on the two. Howdy cleared his throat.

“Ahem, uh… what brings you here, ol’ pal?”, he asked, “ya’ need something from my shop? Any horns or… fake teeth or spinning plates?” The shopkeeper began to put up his bucket of suds and washrag before being stopped by the comedian.

“Oh no, I’m fine as frog hair, buddy! I just came to ask ya’ something, if you have the time, of course.” Howdy perked up at the request, but paused and sighed wearily.

“If you’re asking for me to take a break, Barnaby, then no. I’m not letting this business fall because the one man working here-“

He quickly got interrupted.

“Aww, come on Howdy! You’re exhausted and practically sleepwalking, if you keep working in this state you’ll be dead on your feet!” Barnaby protested, crossing his arms and huffing.

“Barnaby, you really don’t understand,” Howdy rebutted, “this is a matter of needing rather than wanting. Anyone and everyone could come, and if they see me lounging around, doing everything but, I’ll be letting them down! Soon the progress of this whole business could go down, and take me with it. I can’t ‘take a break’ because I am literally against doing it.”

Barnaby sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Howdy sure dug his heels deep in this business, huh? The titular dog wracked his brain for quite a while, thinking of a good way to pry his four arms away from the building… until something popped up.

“Oh well, I guess you’re right… but I do still have something to ask of you.” Howdy sighed, lifting his head towards him with his brow furrowed.

“Will you at least let me sing something to you?”

This tripped the caterpillar upside for a moment. Sing for him? Why exactly would this dog want to sing for him in the dead of night?

“Uhh… may I ask why? That’s a rather odd question to ask, really,” Howdy questioned the dog.

“Oh, well I had been listening to the radio recently and I happened to stumble upon the most loveliest tune! It had me painting the town red, it was lovely!” Howdy tilted his head curiously.

“Hmmm… well what song was it? I think I may have some records inside so you can sing along.” Barnaby grinned widely. His plan was working perfectly.

“I’m pretty sure it was called…Sweet Dreams and Strawberry Milk? It was a guitar song too, very slow and calming.”

“Hmmm… I don’t seem to have that song on a record, from what I can remember.” Barnaby’s heart dropped.

“Buuuuut I do have a guitar! Maybe you can play it on that?” And just like that, the plan was still in motion.

“Oh, superb! You always seem to have something on you to fix a situation, don’tcha? Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go inside before the wolves start howling!”

Barnaby quickly grabbed Howdy’s free arm and dragged him inside the bodega, leaving behind his sud bucket and rag. After a few quick directions, both the dog and caterpillar made their way to the upstairs breakroom.

The breakroom itself was quite large, to his surprise, it almost doubled as a separate house. In one section of the room, a small kitchenette with an oven, fridge, and sink, along with a sofa, record player, and television. In another section, a large bed spread along the room, with a dresser and closet on one side and a bookshelf on the other. In between both sections was a bathroom that he could conveniently walk into any time he wanted. The breakroom as a whole had a sort of forest or plant theme, with leaves and flower decorations galore, it was like shrinking and walking into Poppy’s garden.

Barnaby made their way towards the second section, sitting down on the edge of Howdy’s bed. Howdy strolled towards the closet, opening and rummaging through. He pulled out a large guitar and walked towards the bed where Barnaby sat, handing over the guitar.

“Do make this quick, ok pal?,” Howdy admonishes, slipping off his shoes and taking off his hat. He might as well get comfortable in case things get too long. Barnaby waved his hand dismissively, holding the guitar in his paws.

“Ahh, don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Howdy,” he reassured, “I’ll be quicker than green grass though a goose!” Howdy chuckled at that, smiling slightly.

The comedian took a minute to tune and adjust the chords to the guitar, making sure he wasn’t off-tune, before holding the guitar to his chest. He took a deep breath… and began to sing.

Close your eyes my little one

Drift away to sleep

Dream of fields of strawberries

Growing tall and deep

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Imagine a garden of red

With vines and leaves so green

Picking the ripest berries

For the sweetest milk you've seen

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

As the peaceful lullaby rang throughout the bedroom, Howdy could feel his head begin to cloud up and his eyelids to feel heavy. He suppressed a yawn but caught himself stretching his arms and back.

He then decided that he rest his head for just a moment, if only for a second. He figured he would be awake by the time the song was finished, so it couldn’t be that bad.

As you lay here in my arms

With your eyes closed tight

Let the taste of strawberry milk

Take you through the night

Sweet dreams my love

With strawberry milk in your cup

May your slumber be peaceful

And your dreams be sweet and lush

Sleep now my little one

May your dreams be bright

With strawberry milk in your thoughts

All through the night.

Barnaby cleared his throat after finishing the song, gently placing the guitar to his left. He turned to face Howdy, who had been silent throughout the entire song, to ask him how he felt, but he instead found Howdy fast asleep beside him. How silly of him to drop off mid song, and in his work clothes too! Barnaby snickered to himself at the sight.

He decided that it would be best to stay the night. He pulled the blankets on the bed over the sleeping shopkeeper, tucking him in comfortably, before quietly leaving the bedroom. He made himself towards the other half of the breakroom and towards the couch, and pulled out the longer section to lie down. Turning off the lights and getting comfortable in the process, soon both of them were in a peaceful slumber.

The plan was a success.

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

Barnaby suddenly awoke to a strange noise.

He blinked himself awake to the sudden sound, trying to make sense of his vision. He could make out the kitchenette and the television, and what couch he was on.

Ah, yes, he was at Howdy’s place.

The sun was pooling through the closed curtains and birds were chirping their morning song, signifying a new morning for the sleepy beagle. He slowly stood up from his position and stretched his arms and back wide behind him, popping anything that needed popping.

His attention soon turned to the strange noise that woke him up. It was shrill and loud, yet desperate, if it made sense. It was occasionally interrupted by a slight hiccup or sniffle, before going right back to the shrillness.

Was that… Howdy?

It had the same voice as Howdy, had the same pitch (albeit a tad higher than usual), he could recognize it from a mile away. But what exactly is making him wail this loud?

He had to go investigate.

Barnaby slowly got up from the couch and quietly made his way through the breakroom towards Howdy’s bedroom. He hesitantly knocked one, two, three times, making sure it was quiet but noticeable.

“Howdy? Is that you in there?” Barnaby asked, hands on hips and his face screwed up into that of concern. If his suspicions were correct that this was indeed his pre-pupated pal, then this was quite out of character of him. He wasn’t that open with his inner feelings as he didn’t want them interfering with work, so hearing him so distressed was… odd.

He was quite surprised to see the door swing open not long after he knocked, but what surprised him more was what answered the door: a shaky and teary-eyed Howdy, covered in a colorful blanket and his thumb halfway in his mouth. It took him by surprise for a bit, before quickly being replaced with a brotherly concern.

“Oh jeez… you okay, bud? What happened?” Barnaby said, resting a gentle paw on the shivering shopkeeper’s shoulder and rubbing it slowly. Howdy only sniffled and hiccuped, lowering his head and covering his face with his hands as he continued to cry. The blue beagle took that opportunity to hesitantly wrap his arms around the both of them in a comforting embrace, letting Howdy rest his head on his shoulder.

“Deep breaths, bud… let’s go over here, ok?” Barnaby said quietly and reassuringly, taking one of Howdy’s hands and leading them to the nearby sofa. The titular caterpillar sniffled, wiping his eyes with his hands and popping his free thumb back between his lips. They both trudged towards the comfy cushions, sitting comfortably beside each other with hands clasped gently. Barnaby leaned his friend’s head towards the crook of his neck, letting Howdy rest against him as the bigger dog began to rub his back slowly.

“Hasn’t been your best morning, huh buddy?”, Barnaby said, his voice low and quiet and reassuring. Howdy sniffed, nodding his head silently.

“How’s about I settle here until you’re up and running again, hm?”, the blue beagle suggested, “It don’t seem like you can even walk properly, let alone run a store like this. Not good shape for a guy like you, huh?”

Howdy furiously shook his head no at that notion.

“I know, I know,” the blue dog continued, “you wanna run it. We can always take a day off though, can’t we? It can’t hurt to lay low for at least a day. It’s only about one in a few hundred days, isn’t it?” The small caterpillar sat there for a bit, his head filled with thought. Barnaby scratched his noggin for an idea, then snapped his fingers once it came.

“How about this,” he started, “maybe I can stay and settle with you for the day until you’re feeling better? That way you won’t have to worry about feeling lonely, ok? How does that sound?” Howdy looked down to his feet, wringing his lower hands together in thought. He didn’t want to let the business down, and he felt bad that he was so upset when Barnaby found him.

However, he wasn’t wrong. He had been quite stressed for a few weeks, and he was teetering towards passing out and never getting out of bed. Plus, in his state, how would he run the shop? He could barely talk. It wasn’t an argument at this point, really. He needed this break.

Howdy hesitantly nodded.

“Good to hear, bub,” Barnaby said, squeezing him towards himself a bit tighter. He then stood up and wipe his paws on his vest, and turned back to Howdy.

“You mind if I hold you, bud?”, he asked, lowering himself to the smaller caterpillar’s level. Howdy nodded, holding out his lower arms and flexing the fingers in a grabbing motion. Barnaby gripped his sides and hooked his hands underneath his upper arms. He lifted him up slowly and rested the caterpillar on his hip.

“Now there, how’s about we get you dressed in something nice, m’kay? Those slacks don’t feel so good now, I can find something better for today.”

—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—•—

#This took a WHILE #hope that’s ok lol #but heyyyyy baby howdy for once!!#i considered adding Wally for a sec but figured it would be cute to just practice with Howdy and Barnaby #Barnaby is literally the best cg #welcome home arg #welcome home #welcome home puppet show #welcome home agere #sfw agere #agere positivity #agere fanfic #welcome home howdy #howdy pillar #welcome home barnaby #barnaby b beagle #gummunity fics

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bundrops-n-fluffytops · 11 months

Text

I found this in my drafts this morning so here you go, let me know if you want me to finish it!

Softness in the Strangest of Places

Mikey woke up feeling small, really small. So small he didn’t think he could make it off the bed if he tried to stand up. So, he stayed in bed for a while, attempting to will himself big enough to at least brush his teeth. To his credit, he managed to make it to the bathroom, brush his teeth, and make it all the way back to his room before he collapsed back on his bed.

Last night was… rough to say the least.

He’d been reckless, he knew he had been, but it was a spur of the moment type of thing. It wasn’t supposed to be a big deal, worst case scenario he’d end up with a couple extra scrapes or scratches.

Except that in jumping headfirst into a fight he’d unintentionally dragged his brothers into danger too. It was never his intention, he swears. He’d rather deal with a thousand punches than see any of them receive a single one. But intentions aside, he endangered them, if it wasn’t for Raph, Donnie would’ve ended up with a concussion from falling off a roof, and Leo narrowly avoided fracturing his wrist from all of the impact it received from fist fighting. He wasn’t trained for long bouts of it, having to rely on his foundational training from childhood since he now trains consistently with his swords.

None of them were prepared for a fight, weapons abandoned at home in favor of a casual visit to topside. Mikey knew that, and he’d still started a fight.

He walked home head hung in shame, taking deep heavy breaths as guilt and remorse clawed at his chest from the inside out, caged only by his ribs and fear of breaking down in front of his brothers.

Things got worse when they got home. He had to work so hard to keep up a good poker face while being lectured by Splinter, painfully aware that he’d just get in more trouble for crying.

His dad’s words clung to his brain, branching out into harsher remarks. “You were irresponsible and childish. This behavior will not be tolerated anymore Michelangelo. ” slowly morphed into, “You are useless and pathetic. This was your last chance and you still managed to slip up.” Distress, fear, and sadness clouding his better judgment.

By the time that it was over, he’d lost track of anything other than his own misery and the burning sting of his father’s words. He walked shakily out of the living room, fighting every urge in his body to sprint to the safety of his bedroom.

The second the door shut and he was safe in his room, he fell into littlespace, hard. He was still a bit big, somewhere between 3 and 5, but lines get blurry when you’re on the verge of tears. Luckily he was still big enough that he had the sense to secure his room. He shuffled to the door, locking it, and pretending that the lock would magically make his room soundproof.

He sprinted back to the softness of his blankets, jumping onto his bed, but the minute his body touched the mattress, the tears that had been pooling since he walked in, finally began to fall. He sobbed into his pillow, clutching his stuffed bunny close and letting it all out.

His mind continued to swirl with thoughts, the words from earlier still fresh and metaphorical wounds they caused still aching.

How could he be so terrible? They probably never wanted to see him again. His brothers probably hated him, the only reason Splinter hasn’t gotten rid of him is because he’s spent 13 years training Mikey and it would be a waste. That was it. Mhm, Splinter didn’t love him at all actually. No one did. All he ever does is mess things up and cause accidents and be unhelpful. Mhm. Yeah.

The poor turtle was so caught up in his feelings, and headspace, that all logic had gone out the window and he fully believed that his family no longer loved him because he’d made a mistake and gotten a lecture from his dad along with some glares from his brothers.

Mikey cried and cried until he couldn’t cry anymore, and not even ten minutes later, he was asleep. Entirely exhausted from the emotional and physical stress he’d just gone through.

And now he’d woken up cemented even deeper in littlespace, and he had no idea what to do. A part of him still believes that everyone is mad at him, that they don’t want to see him more than they have to, so he stays put. Deciding that it’s not worth the energy. He lays back down, snuggling his bunny and hoping that he could spend the day in his safe space, unbothered and a little bit sad.

Tragically, he has no such luck and less than thirty minutes later, Donnie comes looking for him. “Mikey?” he calls, his voice a bit sing-songy as he tries the door, pleasantly surprised to find it unlocked. Mikey knew he had forgotten something when he crawled back to bed after brushing his teeth.

Mikey can only look upwards and stare wide eyed at his older brother. Tears already beginning to form as he remembers everything that’s happened and emotions start creeping their way back.

“Angelo?” Donnie asks, concern lacing his voice when his brother makes no move to greet him

Gentle distress floods his veins as Mikey makes an attempt to break his accidental vow of silence but finds the words stuck in his throat, leaving him sitting on his bed with his mouth hanging open as he tries a second, then third, time to speak.

Through his mild panic the box turtle vaguely registers Donnie asking him what’s wrong and is suddenly struck with a genius idea.

He sits upright, making sure he’s facing his brother and has his full attention, as he begins carefully lifting up his arms. He holds them in the air at chest level for a second before bringing his two palms closer together and hunching himself inward, effectively signing “Little” or “Small” in ASL.

It takes Donnie’s mind a moment to realize what’s happening, but his face softens as understanding washes over him.

He slips into his role of caregiver almost immediately, his entire demeanor changing in seconds, and finds himself snuggling closer to his little brother, as he begins asking questions.

The first one is simple, “So I’m guessing you can’t talk, huh?”

A nod is all it takes to get his brain going, running through all the various forms of nonverbal communication he knows.

He’s aware that Mikey only knows the bare minimum when it comes to ASL, so that’s off the table, but it reminds him that sometimes the simplest solution is also the best. “Can you type?” he asks softly, taking care to add a soft and suggesting tone to his voice so that Mikey doesn’t feel bad if he can’t. When his brother signs back “Don’t know” he pulls out his phone, handing it to the smaller.

‘kinda can’ is all he manages but it’s more than enough for Donnie, whose face lights up in encouragement.

“There you go!” he happily remarks, before continuing his impromptu questionnaire. “Do you know why you can’t talk?”

‘M rely tiny, jusa babie’ (Donnie Translation: I’m really tiny, just a baby)

Donnie can’t fight the urge to coo at his brother, “Aww, I’ve got a tiny little guy on my hands, huh?” he says in an overly sweet voice that somehow makes Mikey feel even smaller than before.

Amidst his contemplation of the next question to ask, it clicks for Donnie that his brother is almost never this small. Hence the need for so many questions. The last time he was this small he’d gotten into a really bad argument with Splinter and-

Donnie can’t help the way face falls for a moment as he realizes why his brother has regressed so young.

The question flies out of his mouth before he can even think about it

"Are you this tiny because of what happened last night?"

and Donnie has never been filled with such immediate regret as he watches his brother's face crumple.

Mikey's suddenly reminded of why Donnie was in here in the first place as the tears find their way to his eyes for the third time. Once they start falling, they can't seem to stop, streaming down his face chased only by hiccuping sobs.

Donnie’s on in him in an instant, wrapping him in a tight hug as he begins to soothe.

"No, hey. Hey, it's alright. Donnie’s got you. I know it last night was a lot, I'm here I've got you. No one's upset with you, I promise. We know it was a mistake, I promise we don't hate you."

He states, knowing Mikey well enough to know exactly what was going on in his head right now.

Big or little, Mikey’s always scared that his mistakes are the end of the world, and it breaks Donnie's heart every single time.

He continues to hold his brother, a stream of soft “It's okay.”, “You're okay.”, and “I'm here”s continuing to pour from his mouth.

He tries rubbing small circles on the younger's shell but stops abruptly when he feels him pull away.

As the minutes pass, Donnie hears the harsh sobs fade to gentle sniffles as Mikey calms down a bit, nuzzling Donnies chest a bit as he tries to snuggle impossibly closer to his older brother.

It takes a few more minutes of sniffles for Donnie to try rubbing Mikey’s back again, but this time he leans into the touch, exhausted and desperate for reassurance. “There we go” he sighs as he feels Mikey melt into his arms, “Deep breaths, I’ve got you. Donnie’s got you.”

Donnie’s never been a big fan of touch, but his little, scratch that baby brother, was always an exception.

As Mikey leans back to look up at him, Donnie breaks out in a soft smile, “Hi sweetheart. Are you feeling any better? I’m so sorry I upset you like that, I promise I didn’t mean to. Do you think you can forgive me?” The question is asked in earnest, but Donnie knows the baby in his arms is far too tired and vulnerable to say anything but “Yes”, so he mentally files a reminder to apologize to his brother again when he’s bigger.

The small boy just nods shyly, looking back down with a droopy, almost shameful, look. Donnie recognizes it almost immediately. “Hey, hey, None of that! I’m not upset with you for crying. I could never be upset with you for expressing your emotions, especially when regressed. It’s fine, I promise. You’re such a good boy Mikey. My sweet baby brother.”

Mikey’s head continues to dip, though this time with a bashful smile rather than a shameful frown, and Donnie nearly beams at the sight.

“Alright! With all that crying, I think it’s time we get you a drink and something to eat. What do you say bud?” Mikey nods cautiously in response, still on edge from all the crying, and just generally sensitive because of how heavily regressed he is. “Can you walk?” he asks tentatively, caregiver mode being increased tenfold now that he knows just how baby his brother was.

He sighs at the sorrowful head shake he gets, but is quick to clarify he’s not upset at Mikey for being unable to walk, but simply hadn’t thought ahead about what to do in the event he wasn’t able to.

Donnie goes back to rubbing soft circles on Mikey's back as he messages Raph and Leo a quick, “Code Baby, meet me in Mikey’s room.”

Of course, they’re there in an instant; Leo instinctively running up to the bed and reaching for Mikey’s hand to drag him up and out of the room before Donnie gives them a panicked “Hold on!”

With a solemn look, he attempts to explain things as rapidly as possible…without upsetting Mikey. Which proves to be more than a bit of a challenge.

“Remember what happened last night with Mikey, the lecture he got from Splinter and-” he sneaks a quick look at Mikey, relieved to find him too busy playing with his newfound toy [Read: Leo’s hand] to pay attention to the discussion at hand, “the way he looked like he was holding back tears for most of it?” The second half is almost a whisper, Donnie treading carefully after earlier events.

Raph and Leo’s faces immediately drop, excitement, about Mikey being little, shifting to worry for their youngest brother. Donnie quickly goes on, wanting to avoid putting his brothers through unnecessary anxiety. “Apparently some time between when he ran to his room last night and now, he regressed. And he regressed hard. He seems to be stuck in babyspace, and can neither talk nor walk ”

Both of their faces soften in understanding as everything, even their posture and stances, shift into caregiver mode alongside Donnie. They’d entered the room expecting a roughhouse filled playdate with an 8 year old Mikey, but now they were more than happy to dote upon their baby bound brother.

There’s also an unspoken twinge of pity, even sadness, lurking in the eyes of all three, that no one bothers to acknowledge. However Donnie decides to err on the side of caution and slips in an added, “I’m not sure if it’s what caused him to regress so hard or if it’s because he’s so tiny, but he’s super sensitive right now guys, so we’ve got to be extra careful how we handle him.” Raph quirks an eyebrow and Leo opens his mouth to retort before Donnie warns, “I sighed when he told me he couldn't walk and had to spend the next 5 minutes convincing him I wasn’t upset with him because of it.” which quickly shuts down any suspicion.

The attention shifts back to Mikey as he squirms in Donnie’s lap, trying to reach Donnie’s phone but clearly unable. When it’s handed to him, he’s quick to type out a barely decipherable message about breakfast that kicks everyone into gear.

Raph scoops him up, carrying his bridal style to the kitchen, and though he’s been held like this a thousand times, it still manages to make Mikey feel impossibly smaller. He babbles happily on the trip to the kitchen, clearly excited to be in his big brother’s arms and absolutely glowing under all of the attention. Donnie’s leading the way with smooth determined strides as he uses his gauntlet to run through an index of all the food in their household and organizing it into “Baby Friendly”, “Potentially Baby Friendly”, and “Are you trying to Kill the Baby?”

Leo trails quite a ways behind the other two, having run back to grab a pacifier and teether for Mikey, as well as his favorite Frog Stuffie. Just in case.

It only takes a few minutes for him to catch up with the others in the kitchen, where Donnie is already running around playing scavenger hunt with different ingredients. Meanwhile, Raph is attempting, to no avail, to pry Mikey off of him and set the boy onto a chair, a bowl of cubed watermelon sitting on the counter beside them. As much as he’d love to spectate Donnie’s goose chase for baby food, Leo figures Raph could use the help, so he makes his way over.

“Mikey! Hey buddy,” Leo coos.

#AAA I FORGOT TO REBLOG THIS #This is so cute #baby mikey…..#tmnt #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #tmnt raphael #tmnt leonardo #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt michelangelo #agere #sfw age regression #sfw agere #gummunity post

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