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theyhavetakenovermylife · 4 months

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Even Better: part 1 (Angst) (18+)

TLR!Michelangelo x reader

Part 2

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A/N: Finally finished The Last Ronin the other day. Other than making me cry like a bitch, I have to admit it made me thirst for some TLR Mikey. Dude deserves a good smut written about him🖤 And to be honest, I had a hard time stopping once I first got started. This is my longest one yet, goodness😭😂

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You’re April’s daughter and Casey Marie’s twin sister. Most of your life you’ve been dreaming about the turtles of your mother’s youth, but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal.

Reader is at least 20. As far as I know, Mikey is in his 40’s.

Warnings: Spelling, age difference, masturbation (reader), caught in the act, oral - female receiving, dom Mikey and sub reader, dirty talk, unprotected sex, a little pain, size difference, size kink?

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Your mother had told you and your twin sister many stories about the turtles and their rat father over the years. How she and your father met each other because of them. How Splinter taught both his sons and your parents how to fight. How Leonardo fiercely protected his brothers, and as your mother put it, was seen as an absolute killjoy by his brothers. How Raphael matched your father in temper with an equally big and golden heart hiding within him. How Donatello could speed days locked up in his lab, and the many times he inspired your mom in her own lab. And how Michelangelo could light up a room with his loud jokes and bright smile. You and your sister would often point them out in the picture frames hanging around the lair, and beg your mom to tell more stories about them, no matter how mundane. The time your mom and Donnie made a tracking device in the lab, the time your father and Raph played hockey a whole night, or the time Mikey pranked Leo so hard that Splinter put him on cleaning duties for a whole month. You wanted to hear it all. Every single little detail.But that didn’t change the fact that they are all gone now. Your mother’s best friends and your father.

As you and Casey Marie got older, you continued to ask your mother for stories. But while Casey Marie wanted to hear about New York City before the Foot came to power, while you still asked for the turtles, getting more and more interested in the mundane part of their lives. Like whose room was it that you had made your room in? Who used to sit in the seat you sat in when eating dinner? And that mug you found in the storage, who did that belong to that? So many questions, and your mother could only give you so many answers.

Once you reached your teenage years, you started fantasizing about the four mutant turtles. Was that wrong? Their pictures literally hung on the walls of your underground home, so it wasn’t as if you could just ignore them. It probably didn’t help much that you didn’t like going outside, deciding to stay in the lair with your mother, while Casey Marie went out and explored. But that just gave you more time to help out your mother and learn more about the turtles.

As you gathered more and more information about the turtles, you started to form scenarios in your head, imagining how it would be to get together with the turtles. Which one of them would be the best friend, the best boyfriend, or even the best in bed. That proved to be a question you would contemplate for years, finding yourself staring at the pictures of the four turtles in the hallway in your early twenties, still with that little question in the back of your head. Although your thoughts about the turtles had calmed a bit once you had hit your twenties, you could not deny that they still lingered in the back of your head from time to time. So when your sister one day brought a passed out mutant turtle home, you did not know what to do with yourself. You were shocked, and maybe even a bit scared. He was way bigger than you had thought he would have been, but given his age it shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

Your mother knew who he was straight away. It was Mikey. The turtle whose room you had been occupying every since the day you and your sister grew too old for sharing the same bed with your mom. He was bruised and bleeding badly. Thank God for your mothers medical skills, otherwise Mikey’s fate would have been a dark one.

It took some time for Mikey to wake up, but when he did, he was much different than you had thought he would be. Your mother had spoken highly about his jokes and his warm happiness, but during dinner the day he woke up, you saw none of that. The only time you heard him speak the first day, was when you overheard a conversation between him and your mom in the kitchen. His voice was much deeper than you had anticipated, catching you off guard. And of course he heard you gasp and stopped talking, not speaking a word until you had gotten what you needed, and leaving the kitchen so they could continue their talk.

Three days had passed, and Mikey had still not spoken a word directly to you. He had thanked your sister for saving him while you were close by, but that was pretty much. There was this one time where he took up the whole hallway, staring at the exact picture of him and his brothers, you had found yourself staring at many times. When you asked if you could pass by, he did not say a word. He just looked at you out of the corner of his eye, before moving to the side, giving you more than enough space before you ran by.

Michelangelo was really nothing like you had expected him to be like. You had thought he would be nice, open and warm, talking your ear off like your mother had said he always did. But now he was silent, closed off and cold. He almost seemed angry. It scared you a little bit. Made you nervous whenever you were around him. Whenever you were sitting and talking with your mom or Casey Marie, you would lock up when he entered the room. But as much as he scared you, you also found him very interesting. You blamed your teenage fantasies for finding his form attractive. His toned muscles, covered in bruises, and the visible veins on his neck, arms and hands. The wrinkles on his face told of the things he had been through, and his eyes were always so distant, as if he was watching something no one else could see. But when his eyes suddenly snapped to you, catching you staring at him, you panicked, quickly avoiding your eyes, feeling your cheeks getting red. Luckily for you, Casey Marie came into the room, as loud as your mother had said your father was, telling Mikey about something, giving you the distraction you needed to run to your room. You stayed there the rest of the day, too embarrassed to come out.

That evening you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling above you. You cursed yourself for choosing this room when you were little. Now you couldn’t fall asleep without thinking about Mikey’s eyes on you. Anywhere you looked, you were reminded by the fact that Mikey used to look at the same walls as you did. Heck, you were even sleeping in the bed he used to sleep in. As far as you knew, the blanket, pillow and sheets were also his. It did not matter how many times you had washed them over the years, because they now suddenly smelled strongly of him, not letting you rest for a moment.

You found yourself getting frustrated. None of the turtles had invaded your head so badly ever since you were a teenager, and now you could feel the same need and tension from back then build up between your legs. You pressed your naked thighs together under the blanket, feeling the wetness in your panties. You sighed out in frustration, as you once again remembered the old turtle’s eyes on you. As much as you had felt embarrassed under his eyes, you could not help feel aroused at the thought. He had caught you staring. Michelangelo had caught you with his strong gaze. And now here you were, laying in his old bed with your panties soaked just thinking about him.

Your fingers moved down your stomach, getting closer and closer to your core. It was okay to touch yourself with the older turtle in mind, right? You had done it before, so why would it be any different now? And with that thought you let your fingers slide into your panties, where you found your clit. With yet another sigh you started to rub your small bundle of nerves, letting your thoughts drift back to the muscular turtle. His broad shoulders, his big hands, his thick thighs. With his general size, you could only imagine what he could be packing in secret. You used both hands to slide your panties down, leaving them somewhere under the blanket, before pushing your legs out further, letting your fingers continue their movements around your clit.

A knock on your door caused you to quickly pull your hand out from under the blanket. You sat up in the bed, staring towards the door as it opened. You were almost ready to sink to the ground when you saw who it was.

“Sorry”, Mikey said. “Were you sleeping?”

“Just about”, you answered, tugging the blanket closer around you.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see my room once again”, Mikey said, his eyes falling towards the foot of his old bed. “May I?”

You nodded, watching him as he walked into the room, closing the door behind him. He stood for a moment, staring into nothingness, before his eyes moved to his surroundings. It was almost just the way he remembered it. You had only moved a few things, but other than that, it looked like his old bedroom. Same bed frame and all. He let out a small chuckle, remembering all the memories he had between these four walls. The chuckle was light, lighter than sounds you ever had heard from him. That surprised you, and Mikey noticed, though he decided not to say anything about it, acting as if he forgot you even were in the room. Acting as if he couldn’t smell the heavy odor in the air. Truth be told, he did not notice the odor when he first came to the room, nor did he notice it when he walked into the room. It wasn’t until he stood a few feet from the bed that he really noticed it. But with his back turned to you, he did not dare to move or look in your direction. It was the same smell he had noticed when he caught you staring at him earlier that day. It was a scent that seemed to follow you, at least whenever he was around. Yet it wasn’t until now he realized what that scent could be signifying.

You watched as Mikey moved around the room, feeling your legs shake under the blanket. As horrified as you were, you could not deny the excitement. Knowing that lower half of your body was naked under the blanket, with the old mutant just a few feet away from you. You clenched your teeth as you rubbed your thighs together, your eyes lingering on the way his overalls clung around his thick veiny thighs. You had to keep your breathing calm as you the movement in his muscles, and the way his big hands smoothed over an antiche on one of the shelfs. Slowly, making sure his back was still turned to you, his focus on everything else except you on the bed, you let your hand move back under the blanket, once again finding your now dripping core. You suppressed every sound as you slowly started to circle your clit again, your eyes focusing on his hands. The size, the veins, the roughness. You could only imagine how they would feel against you. His rough skin against yours.

“You’re young”, Mikey rumbled, his back still turned to you. You froze, your heart pounding. Yet you managed to remove your hand before he spoke once more. “But you’re not stupid. You know I know what you were doing. I can smell it”. He turned his body towards you, taking small slow steps towards the bed, his voice deep and echoing against the brick walls of his old room. Once again, terrifying yet strangely arousing. It was at that moment that Mikey decided to let go. For the past 20 years he had traveled alone. He was tired. He felt lonely. And with this sweet scent in the air, begging him to come closer, he had to surrender. Even though you were one of his best friend’s daughters, he could not deny your beauty or how your hormones in the air drew him to you. “I could smell it when you were staring at me, and I can smell it now as I’m telling you”. He was now so close to the bed, that his knees were hitting the mattress at the end of the bed. In a slow move, he was standing with both of his knees planted firmly against the bed under him, towering over you. You were too stunned to speak, your mouth dry as you tried to swallow. But damn it, it didn’t change the fact that your heart was beating fast and your nipples were hard under your shirt. “But one thing I can’t smell…”, the mutant continued. “... Is if you still have your underwear on under the blanket”. He took a hold of the fabric of the blanket, pulling slightly at it, making it move down your body, stopping right over your hip. You whimpered slightly. You knew you found Mikey attractive, but this was almost ridiculous. He hadn’t even done anything, and you were already out of breath. “What will I find, (Y/N)?”

“Off”, you choked out. “They’re off”.

“Good girl”, Mikey hummed, pulling further on the blanket. It tickled as the blanket slowly moved off your skin, causing you to curl your legs up against you. With the blanket in his big hands, Mikey’s stare burned into your dripping core, just behind your closed legs. He could almost feel the heat from his towering position, watching the glistening of your folds in the dim light, your sweet scent taking a hold of his senses. Mikey suddenly felt hungry. Hungry in a way he had never felt before.

The churr that erupted from his chest almost made you jump in surprise. It was deep, deeper than you had ever dreamed it would be.

Silently he let go of the blanket to grab a hold of your ankle, his big hands easily opening you up for him. Not that you tried to fight him. No, not at all. All you could do was watch him and his hungry eyes as he crawled further onto the bed, making you gasp at every touch of him against your skin, and marvel at the sheer size of his hands on your ankles. Mikey used his rough hands to keep your legs open for him, letting him move closer to your core. Your breath hitched when you felt his breath against your knee, just before the inside of your thigh. You let out the slightest moan as Mikey’s eyes locked with yours, just as his lips meet your thigh, just above your knee. His hands slipped under your knees, sliding up the outside of your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulder and onto his shell, before curling around them, his big strong arms holding you open, revealing your aching core even further.

“I’ve always dreamed of having a woman in my bed”, Mikey murmured against your thigh, his lips slowly making their way upwards, letting his tongue lick and his teeth nibble on the way. “Though I always thought that it would happen while I was a teenager, but life has its ways to surprise us”.

“Me too”, you breathed out, making Mikey look questionable at you, his lips still working their way closer to your core. “I used to dream about you when I was a teenager”.

Mikey let out a chuckle. It was almost a laugh. Your heart almost stopped at the sound. You had never thought that you would get to hear the mutant laugh. A chuckle? Sure. A laugh? Never.

“Is that so?”, Mikey smiled against your soft skin, feeling himself getting more daring. He could literally smell and see how his words affected you. The way you bite your lips with your pupils blown wide, and how your beautiful center started to cling around empty air. The thought of how you would cling around him, brought him dangerously close to dropping, making his churr sound as he spoke. “On my bed while I was gone? You’re a better girl than I thought, waiting patiently for me to come home”.

You sighed at his praise, feeling your heart flutter in your chest. This was already better than anything you could have made up in your mind. “Mikey”, you sighed, grabbing onto the sheet under you, breathing heavily at the close proximity of his lips to your flower.

“Is this how you’ve dreamed of me?”, he asked, before his tongue drew a line, all the way from the bottom of your core to the top, flicking your clit on the way.

“Mikey!”, you gasped in pleasure, your hands flying onto the arms around your legs.

“Not so loud, (Y/N)”, Mikey whispered against your mount. “We can’t let them hear us”.

You nodded, bringing an already shaking hand up to your mouth, before Mikey let his large tongue flick your clit once more, enjoying the feeling of how your thighs tensed in his grip. It was soon followed by another flick and yet another. It didn’t take long before you grabbed a hold of the front of your shirt, biting down on that instead of just covering your mouth with your bare hand. Mikey saw how that made your shirt rise further up, letting out a deep churr like moan against your clit. The vibration of one of your heels kicked against his shell, while a head flew to his bald head. Your head rolled back as Mikey started to suck on your clit, making your shirt rise even further. One of Mikey’s hands moved from your legs and up your side, until his hand was right on your breast. Your shirt rose over his two big knuckles, exposing your chest. You groaned against your shirt in satisfaction as Mikey’s gigantic hand started palming your breast, while his tongue and lips continued their work on your clit. Mikey hummed against your clit, finding the taste of your juices and sounds sweeter than honey. He wanted more.

With the hand of the thigh that Mikey’s arm was still wrapped around, he replaced his lips and tongue with his thumb on your clit, letting his tongue sneak down to your entrance. He growled at the sight of you squirming against him, his thumb rubbing circles on your bundles of nerves, while his tongue started exploring your insides. Your eyes fell shut as you threw your head to the side, your hips buckling against his face, and your small hand grabbing on to the one that was still groping your breast. You were close. Fuck, you were close. Your free leg over Mikey’s shoulder started to move frantically as you got closer, the other shaking against Mikey’s grip. He took in the sight of you. You red flushed face, your now messy hair, and the way your breast shook ever so slightly at each sudden move. Mikey started to grind himself against the mattress under him, getting himself closer to his drop, his tongue doing curled motions inside your warm walls, all while his thumb still assaulted your clit. That was when you started to grab onto him frantically. You were close, so fucking close for him. Mikey growled against you. He was going to get you there.

And then it happened. Your legs clamped around Mikey’s head as you came with a muffled scream that sounded like his name, and your legs spazzing over his shoulder. Mikey quickly retracted his hand from your chest, forcing your legs open with both his hands, licking up every last bit of your orgasm, every breath from him sounding like a groan. You puffed and panted, your hands forming fists around the sheets as Mikey rode out your high, until your legs finally started to relax under his hands.

Mikey sat up and started to undo his overalls. His moves were almost frantic as he undid his belt, followed by his straps, all while you laid there and watched him, still recovering from the earth shaking orgasm he had brought you, your now soaked shirt clinging to your collarbone. You once again started rubbing your thighs together, the sight of the undressing turtle making your heart pound.

“You like this, don’t you, (Y/N)?”, he growled with a smug smile, as he started to push the overalls down his body and down his muscular thighs. “Just like you used to dream of, huh?”

“Almost”, you smiled back, feeling yourself getting more mischievous, letting a hand slide down to your now overly sensitive clit. “It’s even better”.

The terrapin growled at the sight, shoving the rest of his clothes onto the floor, revealing himself before you in all of his naked glory. You marveled at the full sight of his toned body, feeling your body shiver with need once more. Mikey huffed before he grabbed a hold of your wrist, moving your fingers to his mouth, so he could suck off what little slick you had picked up on them. That alone caused you to let out a choked moan.

“No more self pleasure”, he said, before throwing your hand to the mattress, his hands finding the hem of your shirt. “Take this off and I’ll show you what’s even better”.

Whatever sound you made, it was enough to make Mikey chuckle as he watched you sit up to take off your shirt, leaving you fully naked in front of him. Once your shirt hit the floor he slowly crawled over you, his deep eyes watching you like a predator hunting a prey. Instictly you leaned backwards, slowly letting your back fall against the mattress, until Mikey had you lying fully onto the bed, with him positioned between your legs. You felt his breath across your face, his beak so close that you instinctively closed your eyes, your lips searching for his. His lips were rough yet soft, and moved against yours with ease. The kiss started out sweet, as if he hadn’t just fucked you dirty with his tongue. Your arms moved around his thick neck, your fingers tracing shapes on the back of his head, your legs curling around his thick thighs. Mikey’s hands moved to hold your close by the shoulders. It wasn’t until a soft moan escaped your lips that his large tongue dared to ask for entrance. And once entrance was granted, this got heated once again. Mikey started to grind his cloaca against your soaked flower, his lips swallowing every sound that came from your pretty mouth.

“Mikey”, you moaned against his lips, buckling your hips against him. “Please, Mikey. I want it”.

Mikey pulled from your lips and placed a sweet kiss on your cheek, before his eyes caught yours. “Tell me if it hurts”, he whispered, a sudden softness in his voice. In the short time you had known him, you had never heard Mikey be soft. “Tell me and I’ll stop”.

“I will”, you nodded, feeling a soft kiss against your lips, before his kisses started to move down your neck just by your ear. One of his hands moved between the two of you to his cloaca, where he pulled himself out with ease, before he slowly started dragging his head up and down your folds before he found your entrance. With even more kisses down your neck, he slowly pushed into your tight hole, groaning against your skin. You had to bite down onto his shoulder in order not to scream. He was so much bigger than you had thought he would be, stretching you out to the point where it was hard to tell the difference between pleasure and pain.

“You’re doing so great, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned against your ear, almost making your eyes roll back just by the sound. Your arms hugged tighter unto him as he moved further in, making him groan by how tight your walls were hugging him. “Fuck”. You whimpered against him, adjusting to his size. Mikey brought a hand to your face, pulling back slightly so he could look at you. “So good. You’re doing so good, (Y/N)”, he said before placing a tender kiss on your lips.

“Please, Mikey”, you whimpered, nudging him with your leg. “Please move”.

Mikey answered you with another kiss, before letting his head drop back down to your ear. He ever so slowly started to pull out of you, before slowly pushing back in. You quickly hide your face against his broad shoulder once more, whimpering at the small wave of pleasure. Mikey listened closely to your muffled sounds at his slow speed, trying to find any signs of pain. But once he found none he slowly started speeding up.

“Shit”, he moaned against your ear, his thrust becoming harder. “You feel so good, (Y/N)”. Your hands clawed onto his shell, your sounds muffled by his rough skin against your mouth.

Mikey’s legs moved further apart, making it easier for him to move against you. With the bed starting to creak lightly under you, you prayed that neither your mother or sister would hear anything. Neither the way you whimpered against the mutant turtle, or the way he cursed and groaned against your ear, telling you how good you were. Michelangelo fucking you raw on his old childhood bed was not something they needed to know. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t dreamed of this moment, ever since he was brought back down to the lair. And now you were enjoying the full force of his God-like thighs.

Mikey placed a hand over your mouth and pulled back, looking down at you with hungry yet mischievous eyes. “Is this what you’ve dreamed of?”, he asked, his hips continuing to drive into you, setting a new speed. “To be fucked like this but and old mutant?” You nodded frantically, wanting to scream against his hand. A bright smug smile grew on his lips, bringing a boyish charm you had never seen on him before. He almost looked 20 years younger. “You’re such a good girl, (Y/N). Tell me, who is fucking you this good?”

“You, Mikey!”, you whimpered against his hand, your head spinning at the second high that was starting to build in your lower region.

“You’re getting close, ain’t you, (Y/N)?” His hand moved from your mouth to your throat, making you fight to stay quiet. Your heart beating faster and faster as you got closer and closer to your second orgasm. “Who are you coming for, (Y/N)?”

And with that your second orgasm that night hit you like a brick wall. Your body spazzing and your head spinning, you let out a loud soar moan. “Mikey!” The said mutant roughly pulled you in for another hungry kiss, swallowing every sound as you came hard around him. His speed continued high, the bed creaking while he rode out your high. His thrusts started to become erratic against your still shaking body, before he too came, groaning your name out loud.

Mikey stayed upon you, as the both of you caught your breath. With one last kiss, he slowly pulled out of you, leaving the two of you with small noises of complaint by the lack of each other. He laid back on his shell, staring up at his old ceiling while catching his breath. He instinctively pulled you close with his big arm, letting you rest your head upon his shoulder. He knew he should leave. You had both been noisier than he had wished to be, and he feared what April would say if she found him cuddling with her freshly fucked daughter in his arms. But Mikey could not deny how nice it was to be laying there with you in his old room. Who would have thought that his teenage dream of having sex in his room actually would come true.

“So”, you smiled from his side. “Was this just like your dream of having a woman in your room?”

Mikey chuckled, pulling you even closer. “It was even better”.

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artzzyb00-27 · 7 months

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{❤️Thundershock❤️}

Normally, sleep in the lair would be peaceful. A thriving time for the boys and reader to enjoy the mundane silence away from the hectic nights. Patrol had ended 2 hours ago, and during the first one a thunder storm had stared. While that would cause panic, Donnie had a system that redirected any extra water away from their homes as to not get flooded.

While getting ready for bed, reader had been finished first and locked herself away in her personal room away from the boys. She was living there permanently after her apartment got wrecked in the invasion. She had met the boys during a late patrol night and they decided to help her out. In return of her not freaking out when first seeing them.

After a few months of living with them she began to feel safer than she did when she had her apartment. For multiple reasons of course. For one the secludedness of the lair and two, the boys were protective of their friends and family. Especially Raph. So she didn't have to worry about someone hurting her when she leaves to work and comes back.

Tonight was different, this was a different kind of danger and unsettlement. The kind that doesn't go away when your in a safe place. The thunder storm with occasional lightning strikes, had triggered her memories of when the Kraang had attacked. It didn't help that there was a possibility of them coming back. Scatterings of their technology were left behind and people began tampering with them.

So when at 4 in the morning, reader screamed in response to a louder bang in the sky, Raph jumped awake and quickly ran to his friend. For some reason he was the light sleeper of the family. Even Splinter couldn't be forced awake. While rushing into the room he accidentally slammed the door opened causing the girl to jump again.

By this point she was in heavy tears trying to calm down. Raph took a moment and looked around. No one attacked her that's for sure. Looking at her closely now he realized how bad she was crying. Paying attention at the noise above the sewer roof, rumbling from high up accord.

"What are you doing here?" she asked full paying attention to the red-clad turtle just 10 feet away from her. He got closer and sat down next to her.

"Heard ya scream. Didn't want you to get kidnapped." he replied while rubbing her back slowly. She leaned into it and fell into a trance of calm. After a while he gently scooped her up and sat on her bed with her between his legs.

After about 20 minutes of his thumb rubbing against her arm, he fell asleep too. Churring in content emotions and a peaceful rest.

The next morning they awoke to the brothers, more specifically Mikey and Donnie, taking pictures of the two cuddle buddies on the queen size bed with grey sheets and comforters. Raph was the first to awaken with a very displeased expression apparent on his green face.

"Wake up love birds! Sun's here!" Mikey gloated as he ran away with an albums worth of pictures. Donnie just chortled and walked away while closing the door. Huffing in annoyance of his siblings, Raph looked down at the sleeping girl. How she hadn't woken up with his brothers ruckus, was beyond him.

She shifted and cuddled closer into his carapace and breathed out with relaxation. He sunk into the mattress and pulled her closer. Thinking back to a few hours ago, he hoped she had slept better than what she could have if he hadn't woke up. It was a good thing she lived with them, otherwise it could have been a hell morning.

After another 5 minutes, reader stirred and sat up rubbing her eyes and yawned. Raph just watched her while glancing at the door. When she noticed she was between his thighs, her face turned red.

"Sorry, thanks for coming when you did." Raph shrugged his shoulders and picked her up putting her on his left. He grazed his thumb over her cheek and cupped the back of her head. He pulled her forward and down, then placing a kiss on the top of her head. He got off the bed and stretched, turning to her and just smiled.

Leaving the room after closing the door he began freaking out internally. Leo, who was sitting on the couch skimming through the channels on the television April and Casey had brought them, had noticed and smiled.

"Good to know you weren't having sex while Mikey's here." a pillow was thrown at his face and he laughed it off leaving on a channel that had this animated witch show Mikey liked.

#bay tmnt #bayverse tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2014 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2016 #tmnt #tmnt 2016 #tmnt bayverse #bayverse tmnt fanfic #tmnt oots #tmnt fanfic #bayverse turtles #bayverse raphael #bayverse raph x reader

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lactoseintolerentswag · 7 months

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Rise Characterizations Pt. 6!!!!!!

After the turtles and Splinter, here we have the girl Ever. She's pretty spunky, I had fun analyzing her for writing.

April O'Neil Character Notes

Language Habits:

Uses bae/aave, something she could have passed on down to Raph and Mikey as they also use bae/aave

Most notably uses "mm-kay" in place of "okay"

Uses a lot of filler language, interjections, or onomatopoeia. Think "mhm", "uh huh, uh huh!", "oh yeah!"

"Ah nuts" is her go-to disappointed phrase

Grits and or strains her teeth when she's frustrated

Uses her own name (the full "April O'Neil!!!!") as a battle cry, or brings her name as a motivator i.e. "the one and only April O'Neil will solve this case!"

The more worked up she the louder she tends to be, this extends to stronger emotions such as passion or panic

Over text uses emoticons

Refers to splinter as "splints"

Refers to the turtles as "the fam"

Refers to villains/antagonists through insults rather than their names

Personality:

Adrenaline junkie, as she's often the first to jump into a fight. She also laughs in the face of danger, and was seen maniacally laughing and smiling the entirety of the gumbus episode

Jack of all trades. April has a lot of skills she's picked up from various jobs or personal adventures she's seeked out (like canoeing through the sewers in a hazmat suit and earning a crane license)

Wild and blunt. April is Loud, and rarely ever afraid to share her opinion. This can either make people draw back from her bluntness or be drawn in by her excitableness

Self-conscious. Despite her strong sense of self-esteem, April is still often motivated to impress the popular kids at school or at least fit in. She doesn't want to be seen as the weird kid, or associated with the weird kids

Persistent. April is always quick on her feet to hit back whatever comes at her. She has a good set of problem-solving skills that she's gained from all the skills she's picked up

Loyal. She's always willing to back up the turtles, and goes out of her way to keep Splinter happy with her company. Once she finds a friend it's hard to pry her away

Unlucky. Mostly in absurd or mundane ways. She has that whole curse with her birthday, but things don't often tend to go right for April O'Neil, which contributes to the disasters that cause her to get fired all the time

Miscellaneous:

Code-named "yellow submarine" by raph

Tends to have information on wifi passwords, secret exists, and access to keys from all the jobs she's been hired and fired from

Has a preference for blunt objects as weapons (most commonly bats, clubs, pipes)

Uses the environment in a fight in general

She's been part of the "warren stone fanclub" since 2010, and keeps all her ids in her wallet

Likes unicorns and cats (as seen through her brief texts with sunita and her pajamas)

Loves laser tag

Can beat Donnie at video games (if he didn't use cheat codes)

"sherlock_corn" is her handle online

Lives in an apartment/flat with her mom (showed onscreen briefly), that has its own bathroom

Has a subtly mentioned interest in fantasy, as noted by Donnie she tends to download fantasy rpgs and freaks out over cosplay wizards

Just an end note to all of you who aren't black, some offensive tropes I would stray from is making April the angry black girl. This is one of the most common stereotypes of black women in media. I wouldn't mistake April's passion or loudness for aggression. It would be a disservice to dilute her lively character into familiar but ultimately harmful tropes in media.

I am in no way saying you cannot portray April as angry, this is a powerful emotion and it should be explored with black characters, but I am saying that should not be the base of her character. Because well that's not even April's base. She's centered around fun and thrill-seeking.

Wikipedia (yes I know, But they have proven to be more dependable these past years) has a good article on the angry black woman stereotype, so that would a good place to start research on what to Avoid. In my splinter post I also provided some links on doing research on writing poc.

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Anyway!!! We've ended our analysis trip of the main cast in s1. Next I'm thinking of picking apart our antagonists :]. Gonna take a break to work on my own fic, but stay tuned if you found any of my other posts helpful! It's been a fun ride with you all <3

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt april #rottmnt april o'neil #character analysis #writing #fan fic #long post #critter talks #she's the weird girl of all time #she's like lilo to me

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eddies-house · 8 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Seven - Halloween

W/C: 10K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Or where you show up to the town's biggest Halloween Bash and you unexpectantly take on the roll of a babysitter.

A/N: this is a long one..and tbh some of it isn't edited...but i'm super excited about this one but also nervous.

Masterlist

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Bass bumped through the unfamiliar house, vibrating all the way down the driveway and to the street where you stood. Shouting could be heard, no doubt a collection of drunks getting overly excited about something usually mundane. Fog smothered the driveway, a decision you felt was made by someone sober at the time of setting it up only to neglect the fact that everyone would be wasted by the time it got dark, sending people tumbling down the driveway in their drunken state. It did add to the atmosphere though, a nice touch that gave it that eerie, spooky feel the owner was probably going for.

As you trekked up the lengthy and steep driveway, a mock graveyard sat to the right, taking up the space that would usually be the front yard. Fake limbs stuck out of the dirt and splatters of blood painted the plastic headstones. A lonely skeleton sat propped up against one, his arm hanging around it as if it were his good friend. Some pumpkins appeared to be slaughtered and littered throughout the yard, the guts surely rotting in the grass and in one of the trees, hung a hopefully fake body, swaying in the chilly breeze.

From what you had heard, the owners went all out every year, Halloween night being their specialty. The closer to the house you got, the louder the music and the louder the voices got. Donnie had told you that it would be a rager but you severely underestimated her words and took them as a joke. You were already hesitant to even attend but now, you were fully questioning if you should even dare to step through the door. It’d be smart to turn around now and go home, maybe watch a few movies and indulge in that candy you’d bought and placed in a large bowl on the coffee table at home. Half of it was gone of course, you stealing a piece here and there throughout the past week. You could stuff your face with the rest if you left now.

No.

You had to be brave and walk through that door with confidence. Even if it was fake. You were never going to meet new people if you kept hiding away in your tower. This town was never going to feel like home if you didn't start treating it like it. Donnie was the closest person you had to a friend and as much as you appreciated her, she was more than half your age and had a whole family already. She mentioned that people ‘your age’ would definitely be at this party, everyone went to this party.

You can’t miss it. She assured.

But on another hand, no one would miss you anyway, no one ever did. Even if they did know of you. There was no harm in trekking back down the driveway and rushing home to snuggle up in your pajamas, right?

No, you have to do this. You have to push yourself out of your comfort zone even if it feels like you're diving off a cliff. But what if everyone stares at you? And whispers about how they didn’t invite you? Donnie promised anyone who’s anyone attends this party, even people from a few town’s over who hear about it from a friend of a friend. So why couldn’t you shake the feeling that you just didn’t belong? That you were intruding.

Everyone’s gonna hate me.

It was especially embarrassing that you were wearing a Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz costume. It wasn’t even all that out there but you felt so uncomfortable without your standard wardrobe. You felt as if your ruby red glittery heels would suddenly draw unwanted attention, your pigtails making a mockery out of you even if just for the costume. Everyone dressed up so why were you the exception? Why were you the only one they would single out, especially in such a common Halloween costume? You were sure there would probably be much more flamboyant costumes, ghouls and goblins covered in blood, zombies with ungodly amounts of face paint, and even vampires with those ridiculous plastic teeth. No one made fun of them so why were you so insecure?

Every possible outcome ran through your brain while you stalled on the doormat. That is until two men dressed in chicken suits bursted through the door, cackling while they set up for a smoke break on the front porch, completely missing you as you stood there terrified. They leaned over the railing as they went on, slurring about how crazy it was that someone had somehow punctured a hole in the keg, a seemingly impossible task.

You took the opportunity to slip in through the cracked door, gently closing it behind you as you entered the chaos that was the famous Knife’s Edge Halloween Bash. Strobe lights flashed in the corners of what you could make out as the living room and the regular light bulbs in the ceiling were all switched out for purple and green, adding to the ambience. The floor was hidden beneath a sea of people dancing their hearts out to Thriller by Michael Jackson, some attempting to actually perform the dance, and others simply flailing their limbs around and hoping for the best.

A rather convincing mummy was stealing the show, everyone else creating a circle around him as he danced like no one was watching. Not one person glanced your way, either too intoxicated to notice or just unbothered seeing as there were already over a hundred people occupying the house. The line of cars you’d seen up and down the street should have given that away but to be fair, you were too busy running circles in your head and rehearsing how you were going to walk in. All of that went straight to the garbage once you saw the nature of the place.

Everyone was too caught up in having fun to take note of a timid Dorothy sneaking through the front door. Fun. Something you couldn’t see yourself having unless you had at least a drink or two in you. It’s sad but it was the only way to loosen up around such a large volume of people. Sobriety was not an option unless you wanted to remain an anxious fly on the wall.

The only issue was finding the source of alcohol, more than likely in the kitchen which you had yet to locate. In order to get anywhere, you would have to weave through the crowd of sweaty bodies, the smell of tequila and beer already filling your nostrils just by standing a few feet away from them.

Taking a deep breath, you clutch your little wicker basket close to your body and begin squeezing in between people with a polite ‘excuse me’ accompanying every accidental touch. Along the way you pass a preppy cheerleader, a few stereotypical vampires, a cowboy and a cow, a dentist, and some guy with a fake chainsaw covered in fake blood. You’re finally able to see your destination just through a large archway, relief already finding you as you inch closer and closer.

The kitchen’s fluorescent lighting is a major contrast to the purple and green throughout the rest of the house. It still follows the spooky theme, however, with an orange tablecloth draped over the island and purple and orange streamers hanging from the doorway. On the island sits a large punch bowl filled with mysterious red liquid along with a stack of red cups and a few choices of liquor next to it. A bowl of pretzels and some Halloween themed cupcakes are placed next to that, and at the other end, is a bucket of candy along with some various kinds of chips.

Hanging from the chandelier is a homemade ghost using a torn sheet, the eyes and mouth filled in with sharpie. The floor is sticky as you slowly make your way forward, most likely the mysterious liquid that had been spilled several times throughout the night already. More shouting can be heard from the living room, some kind of dance off being announced that you would gladly hide from. So far, you didn’t recognize anyone although it would be pretty difficult to seeing as everyone was dressed up.

Gingerly, you grab a cup and scoop the smallest amount of the mystery liquid in. Upon taking the tiniest sip, you can determine that it's some kind of jungle juice. A hangover in a cup. With disgust written on your face, you discreetly throw out the remaining juice in the sink, instead opting to take a shot or two to loosen up. Maybe just one for now. You learned your lesson when taking four straight tequila shots at a time and didn’t need a repeat. Especially at a party with several hundred people as witnesses.

So you fill the bottom of your cup with some whiskey, a generous shot. Throwing it back, it goes down a lot smoother than that tequila had, the burn being mild but still causing your face to twist. The cup is discarded in the trash, cutting yourself off before you can get ahead so as not to get absolutely wasted within minutes. If you had an appetite, you’d snatch one of those delicious looking cupcakes but unfortunately, you needed to pace yourself. Nerves and alcohol didn't make for the most stable stomach and you were already feeling queasy just from the mere thought of having to socialize with strangers.

Exploring further into the house, you exit through the other archway leading into a dining room that displays even more food than the kitchen, a whole buffet laid out for guests including potato salad, macaroni salad, various horderves, snack mix, a giant bowl of M&Ms, and more. A dream for a child, dinner and dessert all in one.

A few partygoers were scooping some food onto their plates, chatting about who knows what while you moved on to the next room which appeared to be the family room. The TV played some kind of horror film while absolutely no one watched it, the room almost empty aside from a couple in the corner making out.

A few pops and some celebratory yells are heard just out the back sliding door, drawing you in. The closer you got, you could see someone dressed as a scarecrow holding a bottle of champagne overflowing onto the deck. You were curious as to what everyone was celebrating but got cold feet when you reached for the handle, your hand glued to it but not putting any effort into actually sliding it open. Just as you decided you were going to chicken out and find a corner to hang out in instead, someone points at the door, outing you, causing your blood to run cold in embarrassment. When the scarecrow turns around, you can see that it's Donnie, face paint pulling her whole look together.

At the sight of you, her face lights up, hands thrown up in excitement as the champagne she’s holding sloshes over and further coats the deck. She doesn’t seem to mind, as she hands off the bottle to someone else and makes her way over to the door, sliding it open. Your cheeks begin to feel hot as people stare at the interaction, unwanted attention that you could’ve escaped had you been quicker.

“You made it!” She just about squeals, giving you a tight squeeze.

She had clearly had a few drinks, unafraid of any affection as she previously stated that she hated friendly affection of any kind, more prone to use her words to show appreciation. But you didn’t mind, Donnie was the one person you were comfortable with and your one friend so if she happened to show affection while under the influence, so be it. And maybe by her doing so, you wouldn’t appear to be such a freak to what seemed to be her friends. Maybe it would grant you acceptance into their circle.

“I made it.” You repeat with a polite smile.

“So we were just popping some champagne we found.” Donnie explains. “No rhyme or reason, we just found it inside and thought, hell lets just go at it.”

Nodding, you try to appear as enthusiastic as possible, covering up your anxiety to the best of your ability. People were still staring at you and it was proving difficult to just ignore it, holes practically being burned into you. A few of them you recognized as regulars at the bar but the rest were complete strangers. Either way, you were intimidated.

“You want some?” Donnie offers to which you begin shaking your head frantically.

“No, no, I’m okay! I already had something and I have to drive later anyway.” You explain.

Donnie nods understandingly before starting a dreadful introduction to the group. She points out Brian, Sam, and Wyatt, her sons who were fully grown, the oldest Brian, being around thirty. You didn’t catch who was the youngest or middle since Donnie was talking so fast. Then she reintroduces you to her husband, Nathan, who you had previously met at the supermarket though Donnie didn’t seem to remember in her current state. Then there were the owners of the house, Crystal and Gabriel, a very nice couple in their forties who made Halloween their night and everyone knew it. Apparently Thanksgiving was Donnie and Nathan’s holiday according to a little comment uttered by Crystal. There were what seemed to be a dozen more introductions though you couldn’t recall every single person. You only remember Donnie skimming by an introduction to Jett’s mom, Kristy who seemed like a lovely woman.

Thankfully, once everyone was acquainted with you, they seemed to move one rather quickly and continued on with their festivities. A fire pit sat in the middle of the deck, crackling away while a few individuals rested on the chairs circling it, warming themselves up. Some orange lights were wound around the railing accompanied by some fake cotton spiderwebs. Everyone held a drink in their hand except you and you were starting to regret not at least carrying your empty cup with you to occupy your awkward hands. Rookie mistake.

Your breathing becomes increasingly shallow with each passing second, panic settling in as you attempt to remember how to act like a person. You almost contemplate rushing off to the bathroom to hide but quickly scrap the idea, knowing Donnie may take notice. Instead, you stupidly shuffle your feet in place, trying to ground yourself with no luck.

In your inner turmoil, you can vaguely hear everyone else engaging in conversation about their lives or some silly story. Something you didn’t care to tune into as your inner monologue chants at you to run. Even with the one shot that you thought would relax you, you still feel your shoulders tensing and your jaw tightening anxiously. If anyone were to initiate small talk with you right now, you’d come off like a dunce, thoughts unable to form gracefully. Tonight was definitely a bad idea and you should’ve just stayed home where you knew your place.

Uncomfortably, you remain standing as everyone passes around the champagne. There was no way to dismiss yourself without seeming like you were rude and awkward. This was hell.

“Okay, elders!” You hear a familiar voice from around the corner, steps clunking up the deck stairs. “We got your drugs, now pay up.”

Jett emerges, a second pair of steps heard behind him. He’s dressed like a greaser, hair slicked back as he wears a white shirt tucked into his tight jeans.

“We got the goodies!” Eddie singsongs from behind him, dangling a plastic bag full of weed.

Eddie seems to be dressed as…himself? With a bit of smudged eyeliner. His torso is covered with his standard black leather jacket and he’s pretty much wearing what he wears in his day to day. Except when he dramatically flings his leather jacket at Jett, he sports a very revealing cut off shirt, all ripped and torn. And his fingernails are painted black.

“Jeez, Eddie! You’re gonna catch a cold, put that back on or go inside!” Donnie scolds.

“‘M fine.” He mutters, tossing the weed at Jett who just barely catches it as he drops Eddie’s jacket to the floor.

Donnie sighs, giving up on the argument seeing that Eddie was too stubborn to listen. Suddenly you feel yourself warm up, the chill October air no longer pinching at your cheeks as they grow hot again. Not out of embarrassment this time.

“Gon’ get ‘nother beer.” Eddie mumbles, stumbling toward you though he doesn’t realize it yet.

“That kid gives me a headache and he’s not even mine.” Donnie says.

“Hey!” Eddie whines, turning back toward the group mid stride. “You claimed me ‘s one ‘f your own, ‘member?” He points at her.

Several people chuckle at the scene while Donnie rolls her eyes and waves him off. He was clearly a lot more intoxicated than everyone else. His waddle toward the sliding door is evidence enough.

“Drink some water, boy.” Nathan advises.

“‘Rink some water.” Eddie mocks in a high pitch to himself while hiccuping before colliding into your shoulder. “Oh shit.”

Stumbling backwards, you stabilize yourself while his hands reach out and rest a bit too comfortably on top of your shoulders, heavy handed. Almost as if he were using you to keep himself up. When you dare to glance up, you’re met with heavy, glazed over eyes, bloodshot and decorated in smeared black liner. His lips paint a perfectly content smile as he sways back and forth, unbalanced.

“Bambi.” He cooes.

“Hi.” You whisper, startled like a mouse.

“Heyyy.” He draws out eyes becoming even heavier if possible.

“Um—“

“Munson, get off ‘er.” Jett laughs, shoving Eddie to the side. He manages to save himself from face planting into the deck, leaning himself against the side of the house.

“Should kick ‘yr ass.” Eddie mutters, glaring at Jett.

“No one wants you leanin’ on ‘em like that!” Jett defends. “Hey, Bambi.” He greets you.

At this, Eddie appears enraged, his face visibly going red as he shoots Jett a glare that no one would want to be on the receiving end of. Everyone else seemed to have moved on, paying no mind to Eddie’s sudden shift in mood.

“Hi, Jett.” You reply, a friendly grin gracing your lips.

With a grunt, Eddie pushes off the wall and storms inside, evidently pissed about something. Jett shares the same confused expression as you, shrugging while he starts asking how you are, if you’re enjoying the party, and if you’d seen the huge array of food they had out yet. You answer all of his questions to his satisfaction but mentally, you’re trying to track Eddie down. Trying to understand what set him off and made him leave with such irritation. Had this been the first week you met him, you would’ve dismissed it as his normal temper but now that you’d known him for almost two months and gotten to know how his emotions function, you knew better.

He had also clearly been under the influence which could mean nothing happened and his emotions were just sensitive. But you had a strong suspicion that there was a definite reason he abruptly got angry and rushed inside. No one else seemed to notice, aside from you and Jett. And he obviously paid no mind and didn’t intend on going after Eddie so maybe you were missing something. Or maybe everyone was also blinded by their intoxication and you were the only sound minded individual in the group right now.

“Oh and then—“

“I think I’m gonna head inside, it’s kinda cold out here.” You interrupt Jett’s tangent on his and Eddie’s journey down the road to collect the weed they had been sent to pick up.

“Oh well just take this.” He says, snatching up Eddie’s jacket off the ground and handing it to you.

You should’ve come up with a different excuse though to be fair, you didn’t think he’d hand you Eddie’s jacket. He was supposed to follow your lead and let you go inside. Wasn’t he concerned about Eddie too?

“T-thank you.” You clutch the jacket in your hand, draping it over your forearm.

“Yeah! So we were just walking—“

“Jett, I’m sorry I’m gonna run to the bathroom, okay?” You cut him off again.

You felt bad for seeming so uninterested in what he had to say but you couldn’t go much longer without knowing if Eddie had gotten himself into trouble. He was super out of it from what you could tell and it was eating away at you. It only made it worse that he was so angry and if you were the most sober one at the party, it would be in your hands if something happened to him and you knew he had run off.

“Okay—“

Before Jett can get another word in, you spin on your heel and rush inside, the music still blaring and everyone still screaming from the living room. The whole house felt like it was vibrating, your body buzzing as the bass dropped. That same couple still remained in the corner making out, their stamina impressing you.

Entering the kitchen, there’s no sight of Eddie, only a few guests topping off their drinks and toasting to themselves loudly. Realistically, you should take another shot to calm your nerves but this nightmare of an evening needed to be cut short and you would need to drive home as soon as you found him and returned him to the group.

Dreadfully walking yourself back into the living room where the heart of the party beats, you focus on each individual, attempting to spot the one dressed in all black with almost no shirt, tattoos, and a head full of brown curls. It proves to be more difficult since the lighting was so dim and the strobe lights left you seeing spots.

Everyone seems to be having the time of their life and here you are, worried sick about someone who never thinks twice about you. Even before he arrived you were having the worst time and wanted to go home immediately. Halloween would’ve been perfect if you stayed home where you couldn’t make a fool of yourself in front of people.

“Tequila!” A woman dressed as a slutty maid shouts, carrying a tray full of shots past you, only eliciting a gag from the back of your throat at the smell. “No tequila for you then.” She jokes, you shaking your head as you cover your nose.

It was obvious that Eddie wasn’t going to hit the dance floor after getting so infuriated. Unless that’s the first thing he would do in his state? You weren’t completely sure but you were almost certain that he wouldn’t. As a large group gathers around for shots, you manage to escape down a hallway where you imagine the bathroom might be. It’s completely dark, the only light coming from underneath a door on the left, probably the bathroom. At the end of the hall is what looks like a bedroom, the moonlight shining in from the blinds to just barely reveal a bed.

No one seemed to be in said bed, an empty room for people to crash in at the end of the night. Eddie could be in the bathroom but you’d have to be sure before leaving. With a shy knock on the door, struggle to hear any voice that might respond. Pressing your ear to the door, you try again, only to be met with the annoyed voice of a woman saying she’ll be out in a second and that she was fixing her lipstick.

Clearly not Eddie.

At this point you’ve covered the downstairs, no sign of the man so far. He would be good at hide and seek, you assume. Or maybe you’re just the blind. Retracing your steps back out into the living room, you collide with a few bodies, none of them paying any mind to the impact as they continue to dance, flailing around like rag dolls. You didn’t think it was possible for the room to get any more humid but you were proven wrong, sweat grazing your arms as you pass by and attempt to avoid touching anyone, failing miserably.

Your perfect ruby heels are starting to kill you, digging into your skin in all the wrong places, making it more difficult to walk with every step you take. You know for sure that come the morning, you’ll have blisters that will be bothering you for days. Reluctantly, you slide them off and scoop them up, dangling them by your fingers, Eddie’s jacket still hanging off your arm. You were becoming a walking closet.

Going upstairs didn’t seem like a great decision seeing as this wasn’t your house and you didn’t want to give Crystal and Gabriel the impression that you liked to snoop around. Although, if someone did see you, you could just vouch for yourself by saying you were looking for a bathroom and the downstairs one was taken already. So up you went, nervously glancing behind you. The coast seemed clear, not one person paying you any mind, the party still capturing their undivided attention.

Like magic, Eddie appears as you reach the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the doors as he weakly knocks, his forehead pressed to the wood. He was gorgeous, the perfect image of an 80’s rockstar gone 90’s. His back was nearly on display, shoulders all broad and waist lean. You could make out bat wings tattooed symmetrically on his shoulder blades and something along his ribs. The sight flustered you but you were here for one purpose and that was to retrieve him and get him back to Donnie so she or someone else could keep an eye on him.

“Dude, ‘urry up!” He whines into the door, pounding on it with more force. “Hafta piss ‘n maybe throw u—up.” He hiccups.

You want to giggle but quickly remember how miserable that feeling is, your stomach rejecting you and releasing its contents in protest of the alcohol you continue to bombard it with. You realize that no light pours out from underneath the door which meant the bathroom had to be available.

“Eddie, I don’t think anyone’s in there.” You offer, slowly walking up behind him.

“Pfft, it’s locked.” He scoffs, hitting his forehead against the wood with a thump.

When you reach your hand toward the handle and twist the door open, he gasps, nearly falling head first into the bathroom. It wasn’t thought through, opening a door with a grown man leaning his full weight onto it. Luckily, he catches himself, hands gripping the countertop as he sways.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” You hiss, voice tinged with regret.

“‘S okay.” He mumbles, pulling his zipper down.

“Oh!” Covering your eyes, you shut the door.

“Wait, wait, wait!”

“Eddie, I am not standing in there with you while you pee!” You yell through the door.

“God.” He groans, a stream following. “Just—I know!”

“I’ll stand right here and make sure you don’t fall and hit your head, okay?” You bargain.

“Okay.”

After several seconds, you don’t hear any movement, worry kicking in once again. He couldn’t have hit his head, you would’ve heard it. What if he passed out but didn’t hit anything? It was pathetic, the way worry would grow inside you solely for him. Just when you begin a countdown to burst through the door to check on him, you can hear the unmistakable sound of him puking his guts out. Now you wonder if you should go in anyway and hold his hair back.

Dry heaving is heard through the door, the awful sound the only thing you can focus on. You can’t take it anymore. You can only hope he remembered to zip his pants back up in his drunken state. Opening the door, you reveal Eddie hunched over the toilet, his hair draped over his shoulders, clearly in his way. You rush to his side, dropping your heels and his jacket in the process and collecting his curls in your hands, pulling them back as he breathes heavily, drool hanging from his mouth. His eyes are wet and his hands are shaky as they grip the toilet seat. You feel as if he should be vomiting in your lap for payback for puking on him that one night.

“Ah shit.” He complains, shaking his head. “Round two, get o—out”. He gags.

Throw up was the embodiment of the most disgusting thing you could ever think of, smell and everything but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care at this moment. Even with his clammy skin and pukey lips.

“It’s okay, just let it out.” You encourage him, hesitantly running a hand over his back, regretting doing so as you feel the muscles under his skin tense.

“Seriously, out.” He almost vomits, swallowing it down.

The action alone should be enough to have you jumping up and leaving but you stay.

“Eddie, just puke it all up. It’s fine. I’m gonna hold your hair.” You tell him.

He shudders, glancing over at you with his bloodshot eyes. It’s like he’s shooting daggers at you before his eyes soften involuntarily, irises becoming that caramel toned warmness you were becoming more and more familiar with. His pupils are dilated, huge planets in the middle of his eyes, clearly high and drunk though you still recognize the puppy dog-look he was giving you.

“Eddie, if you don’t puke right now—“

As if on command, he lunges forward and spews out the rest of his stomach. The sound makes you wince but you try to hide it as best as you can for his sake. It’s not his fault his body is reacting to the substances he put into his body. Maybe it is his fault since he put those substances into his body but regardless, you felt for him. Once it has to come out, it has to come out and there’s no going back.

“There you go.” You soothe, fingertips gently raking up and down his spine.

“Fuck.” He whispers into the bowl, spitting out a huge glob of saliva. It would repulse you if it were anyone else.

“It’s okay.” You whisper just as quietly.

Grabbing the toilet paper and folding it a few times, you rip it and hand it to him to clean himself up. You linger for a few seconds, waiting for him to grab it but he only continues to stare into the toilet bowl, hands braced on either side. Just when you’re about to speak up again, he goes in for a third round. You can’t help but feel bad for him even if the smell is nauseating you.

“You want some water?” You offer, standing up in preparation to go find him some.

“No, stay.” He blindly grabs the hem of your dress, wiping his mouth with his forearm.

He didn’t seem to have a follow up reason as to why he wanted you to stay but you do anyway. It was still a concern of yours that he stayed hydrated but you would tuck the thought aside momentarily to appease him.

“Okay, what do you need?”

Finally, he relaxes, his stomach seemingly empty now as he sits back against the wall. A sigh leaves his lips, relief slipping off of them as he gazes up at the ceiling. Shutting his eyes, he shows no indication of responding anytime soon, his pale face exhausted. Sitting down beside him was your best bet, that way if he did decide that he needed to spill his guts again, you were there to assist. And it was especially comforting to sit there just in case he passed out since he was at risk of hitting his head against something. He was obviously still out of it, sobriety seeping in very slowly, the room more than likely spinning from his perspective.

“Dizzy?” You ask.

“Mhm.” He hums, squeezing his eyes shut as if it would aid in steadying the room.

“You need water.”

“Mm.” He disagrees, shaking his head.

“Yes, it’ll help with the dizziness…probably.” You tell him, standing up once again.

This time he doesn’t protest, the message sinking in. You do, however, worry what could happen in the seconds that you’re gone. But, you have no other options right now.

“Stay here—Eddie, stay here. Do you hear me? Don’t move.” You try to drill into his brain.

All he offers is a weak nod, unable to even open his eyes. Satisfied enough with the response, you speed out of the bathroom and down the stairs into the kitchen. It was easy enough to grab a cup and fill it with water, dodging the wasted party guests that had gathered around the counter to play some kind of drinking game.

“Hey, where did you run off to!” Jett calls over to you.

Carefully, carrying the cup of water as not to spill, you turn around to meet his cheerful face. He had clearly gotten into that weed stash as his eyes were even more bloodshot than Eddie’s and his face was the most relaxed you’d ever seen it. And he was a pretty laid back guy so that was saying something.

“Oh, uh, Eddie’s not feeling good so I was just helping him out.” You explain.

Jett offers a suspicious squint, eyes glimmering in mischief as he reaches for a cupcake.

“What?” You ask genuinely.

He shakes his head, sticking his hands up in surrender which only makes you question the strange boy further. What was going on in that hyperactive mind of his?

“Nothin’” He smirks, orange icing coating his upper lip.

You didn’t have time for him to elaborate, if you could even get him to. You just needed to get back upstairs, you had already been gone for a few seconds too long, worry burying in your gut like a parasite.

“Okay, I have to get back to Eddie and make sure he hasn’t done something stupid.”

“Mmmhmm.” Jett giggles.

If only you had the time to interrogate him and inquire as to why he found that so funny. But you didn’t. Leaving him behind to laugh to himself, you can just barely make out one last word as you turn on your heel.

“Lovebirds.”

Your eyes grow ten times bigger as you scurry away. Did he think that’s what this was? That you were on your way to hook up with your boss? Did it look that way to everyone else? Jett was going to rat you out for something you weren’t even doing, you were convinced. No matter how nice of a guy Jett proved he was, he was higher than a kite and could start up a rumor like wildfire if he relayed his suspicion to anyone. It’s possible you were being paranoid but come the morning, if there were rumors floating around, you knew exactly who to blame.

Trying to shake the butterflies you felt taking your stomach hostage, you concentrate on getting the water upstairs without spilling a drop. It was evident that you had filled the cup a tad too high, giving you even more of a challenge. As you conquer the stairs, you anxiously peer around the corner into the bathroom, hoping and praying that Eddie had listened and didn’t move an inch. Otherwise, you were on another goosechase for a six foot tall metalhead for the second time that night and respectfully, your organs wouldn’t be able to handle another spurt of anxiety like that.

Much to your relief, Eddie sits against the wall just as you had left him, eyes still shut tight and head bowed. He doesn’t seem to hear your sock covered feet padding into the bathroom, not one muscle twitching.

“Eddie.” You call, holding the water in front of him.

No answer.

“Eddie?” You say, more panicked.

Nothing.

“Okay, this isn’t funny, Eddie. C’mon, drink the water.” You tell him, gripping his chin as you examine him.

His eyes seem to flutter beneath his eyelids, brows furrowing as his head resists your hand and leans toward gravity. You continue to hold him up, giving his cheek a small pat. A deep groan escapes him although he’s still practically sleeping.

“Eddie.” Shaking his shoulders, he only moves like a rag doll in your hold. “Eddie, wake up.”

“Mmm.” He grumbles, swatting your hands away.

“Okay, I gotta take you home.” You decide, placing your hands on your hips, attempting to determine just how you were going to even get him into your car.

You couldn’t leave him here, he was still wasted. You could leave him with Donnie and everyone to look after him but what was the point if you were going to go home anyway and he lived right next to you? There was no use in making them babysitters if there was a more logical solution.

“‘M fine.” He says, curling up into a ball.

“No, Eddie, get up. Get up.” You try to be firm with him but he remains on the floor, comfy as ever with his hands tucked beneath his head. “Shit.” You sigh.

It was time to call in some reinforcements.

–

“Jesus Christ, he’s really fucked up isn’t he?” Jett stares down at the figure of a sleeping Eddie on the bathroom floor, perfectly content.

“Yeah, can you guys just carry him to my car and I can figure out the rest once I get home?” You plead.

Jett and Nathan share a look of concern to which you raise your eyebrows in confusion, expecting an explanation. They glance once more at Eddie’s sleeping body and then back up to you, appearing as if that had said everything though you were still lost.

“How are you…going to carry him out of the car?” Nathan asks, his bushy gray eyebrows knit in thought.

In all fairness, you didn’t think far enough into the future. If it were only you, you assume you would be required to drag his body across the yard and onto the porch before fishing out his keys and lugging him up onto his couch before leaving some water next to him and dismissing yourself. The affair may take you over an hour considering Eddie was proving to be a stubborn drunk. But you’d surely manage if it had to be done.

“I dunno, I’ll work something out.” You tell him.

Nathan glances over to Jett once more, concerned expression only deepening as he peers back down at Eddie. Jett shrugs, surrendering the decision to both of you.

“How ‘bout this.” Nathan starts. “We’ll follow you home and help you get him situated–”

“God, ‘m up! ‘M up, okay!” Eddie takes the three of you by surprise as he rapidly pushes off the floor and begins standing on wobbly legs.

“You sure about that?” Jett teases while Eddie stabilizes himself against the sink.

“Fuck off.”

Eddie’s aggravated demeanor persists once again, a pathetic puppy dog pout at his lips while his eyes become overshadowed by eyebrows, a stern scowl forming. If it was meant to intimidate anyone, he was sadly mistaken. Instead, Jett snickers behind his hand, attempting to hide his grin.

“I’m kidding, I’m just kidding.” Jett continues to chuckle, avoiding Eddie’s harsh gaze.

“What is goin’ on here?” Donnie emerges from the stairs.

“Christ, ‘s go.” Eddie murmurs, rolling his eyes.

Donnie’s face contorts in confusion at his attitude, something that if it were directed towards you, you wouldn’t think twice about. It was no secret that his moodiness carried over even when he was intoxicated. But you suppose she has a motherly hold on him and should he act up, she wasn’t afraid to confront him. It didn’t matter how much taller or how grown of a man he was, she wouldn’t hesitate to pinch him by the ear and drag him off to give him a lesson in manners.

Obediently, Eddie backs down, his expression instantly relaxing. His scowl is replaced with a blank face, any negative thoughts seeming to fall right out of his head.

“You’re leavin’?” Donnie questions.

Rather than answering, Eddie shifts his gaze to you expectantly. Like you were suddenly his keeper. It was odd, going from being absolutely repulsive in his eyes when you’d first met him, to him essentially submitting to you so willingly. He was wasted but it was still something you fondly tucked into the back of your mind to remember later, like a little postcard for yourself.

“I, uh, yeah. I was just heading out and I thought…since we’re neighbors…” You try to elaborate, only feeling as if you were digging yourself into a deeper hole as you remember Jett’s comment from earlier.

Low and behold, the brief glance you offer Jett only confirms it, a huge smirk displayed on his face just for you. It was enough for the blood to rush into your cheeks, practically sizzling to the touch.

“You just got here.” Donnie complains.

Jett puffs out his cheeks, offering some kind of communication that has Donnie reeling back on her previous statement.

“It is late though and if he’s really not feeling good…” She reasons.

You weren’t stupid and you knew Jett was assuming the position of a wingman and somehow, he was able to convey that to Donnie in just one simple look. And she ran with it, much to your surprise. Eddie seemed to check out of any conversation, bags hanging underneath his eyes while they drooped in boredom, his tall frame leaning against the wall as he toyed with the chain attached to his jeans.

Externally, you were irked, irritation written all over your face, even a hint of disgust could be found within your features. But internally, you were having quite the opposite reaction. Those damn butterflies had started up again, whirling around in your stomach so intensely, you were beginning to think they were bees. Your heart pounded in your ears, the tips of them becoming embarrassingly red and hot. You didn’t know why, maybe it was the prospect of everyone else thinking you had some secret relationship going on or even a little fling and the fact that they seemed to be rooting for you. It ignited the tiniest bit of excitement in you, you weren’t going to lie to yourself. Even if there was truly nothing going on.

Within minutes, you had an entourage escorting you to your car, Nathan insisting that it was no issue if you’d rather him drive Eddie just in case he were to pass out again. Though you were grateful, you didn’t see the trouble in making him drive all the way out to your street only to turn around and go right back to the party. If Eddie passed out again, you’d splash some water on him and surely figure out a way to wake him. Besides, he had started to become more alert since stumbling down the stairs and making the walk down the steep driveway. Of course, you also required that he down some water before leaving, otherwise he could stay and let his friends have their fun and tease him about sleeping in front of the toilet, which he didn’t seem to like as he scrunched his face and grabbed the water from you.

Donnie had advised you to drive safely several times while Jett continued to poke fun at Eddie, only earning himself a sock to the shoulder. Jett may not feel it now but in the morning there would be a good chance he’d have a nice purple bruise.

At some point after you had stepped outside, a jacket was draped over your shivering shoulders. Eddie’s jacket. And seconds later, he walked ahead of you with his hands shoved in his pockets, no doubt trying to escape Jett’s teasing. It was in that moment, surrounded by people who seemed to just…care, that you began to feel wanted. While Donnie talked your ear off about keeping an eye out for deer, Nathan continuing to even offer to drive both of you home, assuring you that he didn’t mind in the slightest. Eddie resting his jacket over your shoulders, even in his current state, and Jett…well Jett was being Jett but he still contributed to the warm and fuzzy feelings you were experiencing.

It felt a lot like…family.

–

The cold glass soothes Eddie’s sweaty cheek, the surface fogging up with every breath as his finger taps away to a beat in his head on the center console. The slumped position he had been in for the past five minutes was sure to awaken a few aches and pains in his spine but he didn’t budge. The radio softly sounded through the car, some random pop song he could hardly make out. His eyes followed tree after tree, nearly causing him to go cross-eyed as he kept up with the little game he made up in his head, counting each tree. Sometimes he would get distracted by the pavement zooming by before continuing.

Not a word had been shared between you since the bathroom though it was an oddly comfortable silence. It didn’t feel like you had to speak or fill in the gaps like you usually would, desperately clinging to words that you didn’t have in order to appease the other person. The fact that Eddie was coming out of his drunken haze could have something to do with it but had it not been Eddie you were driving, you’re certain you would struggle to strike up a conversation as if it were required.

Glancing over at him, you can’t help but feel a small smile tug at your lips, his fingers drawing a smiley face into the fog he created with his breath. You’d never seen him so content but perhaps you shouldn’t look too much into it. A few beers and some weed would have that effect on anyone. It was just pleasant to see him so laid back, the stressors of his life set aside for another time. You could only hope he could appear the same way sober someday soon.

“Where’s your family?” Eddie suddenly mumbles, eyes still glued to the scenery outside.

The question is out of the blue and the last thing you would expect from him. Although he had taken somewhat of a liking to you, he’d never taken an interest in something so personal. And you offered him that same respect.

“What?” You ask, sneaking a glance at him, your hands squeezing the wheel.

His focus shifts from the window to you, his body turning inward as he leans his cheek against the headrest, waiting for your response. The way his lips pucker from his cheek squishing against the seat only makes your heart clench. His large awaiting eyes reflect the moon and you find it hard to change the subject when they appear so patient and attentive.

“Um, well, they’re back in…back home.” You answer simply.

“Where’s that?”

He looked the most inquisitive you’d seen him, body turned toward you, his attention not once wavering. Instead of the usual knit brows he often wore, his features remained softer and full of wonder. Lips parted and eyes twinkling, who were you to deny his efforts? Even if he was slightly under the influence. Worst case scenario, he doesn’t remember this conversation.

“California.”

“Oh.”

You didn’t know what kind of response you were expecting but for some reason, the one word was a bit too vague, self consciousness kicking in.

“What about yours?” You shift the spotlight over to him.

From what you can tell as you keep your focus on the road, his gaze drops while he collects his thoughts, his breathing going shaky for just a second before he regains his composure. A hum deep in his throat notifies you that he’s ready to begin speaking again.

“Uh, don’t really have one. Never really have. Or, uh, I just don’t remember them? Other than my uncle, Wayne. He’s back…” Eddie hesitates. “He’s in Indiana.”

“I’m sorry—I didn’t know…” You start to backtrack and although he was the one who initiated the conversation, maybe it was too bold of you to reverse the question.

“No, ‘s okay.” He assures you, shaking his head, his curls flattening against the seat.

“You miss him?”

The car is silent again, aside from the radio playing quietly. You fear you’ve said the wrong thing, struck some kind of a nerve that forced him to go mute. No longer wanting to engage in the topic. But when you peer over at him again briefly, he’s biting his lip, getting lost in his mind again before he decides on an answer.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do. He visits when he can.” A sadness lurks beneath the surface of his monotone response, eyes growing shinier in the moonlight. And then he wipes the slate clean, face devoid of emotion once again as he seems to shake his previous thoughts from his head. “So what’s your deal? What made you come all the way out here?”

This is the part where you would shrug and offer no further insight into the corners of your mind that usually were kept isolated. But when his gaze softens from the passenger seat like that–like he wants to know, like he cares, you wanted to give him the key to your contaminated brain and let him poke around all he wanted. As long as he wanted.

“Well, uh, I love my family...” You start, voice timid. “But I was feeling super lost. And like I was living for everyone else. And when my dad passed months ago he left me his estate…left me everything…”

“I’m sorry.” He says, sympathy coating his words.

You nod, a silent thank you before continuing.

“So I split it up with my family…then moved away. Guess I wanted to…I dunno find myself?” You laugh, as if you’d just told a joke.

Rather than laugh along, Eddie studies you with intent. Like he’s searching for more, digging into your soul.

“Why’s that funny?” He asks.

“I just–I don’t know what I’m doing.” You laugh again.

“Well, neither do I.” He begins to chuckle. “I mean look at me.”

Progressively, you both start to laugh harder, glancing at each other and reveling in the failures that you both had endured up until this moment. It’s like you were slap happy, a snort threatening to escape you through your uncontrollable laughter.

“Ah, fuck.” Eddie exhales, a grin plastered to his face. “Bar is going to shit, my government hush money has run out–”

“Your what?” You question, amusement taking over your features.

“Nothing.”

Suddenly, he has no desire to converse, his lips shut in a tight line as he once again turns his attention to the window.

“Government hush money?” You repeat.

With a roll of his eyes and a deep breath, you can tell he contemplates carefully as he chooses his next words.

“Jesus Christ, I’m really not supposed to talk about it.” He breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But, fuck it I guess.” He drops his hand from his face.

Pulling into your driveway, the gravel crunches under the tires before you kill the engine, headlights leaving you in the darkness. Eddie has your full focus, your body turned toward him as you pull a knee up to your chest, resting your chin on top.

“You don’t have to.” You assure. “I can just forget you ever said anything–”

“Honestly, it’ll probably do me some good to get it off my chest.” He interrupts.

At his insistence, you keep quiet, waiting for him to continue. He fidgets with his rings nervously, pulling them off and putting them back on.

“You, uh, you have to swear to never talk about it again. To anyone.”

“Promise.” You whisper, sticking your pinky out.

A puzzled look crosses his face, looking from your pinky to you in uncertainty. It was becoming apparent that he was sobering up, laziness no longer taking a hold of his eyelids and words coherent.

“Pinky promise.” You smile.

“Pinky promise?” He still appears confused.

“Yeah, you never made a pinky promise before?”

A small smile forces the corners of his mouth up, eyes shining with entertainment as he stares at your pinky. Shaking his head, he rests his hands in his lap, almost bashfully. A contrast to his usual prickly tendencies and forward personality.

“Well, I take pinky promises very seriously. They can’t be broken. So I pinky promise, I won’t mention this ever again.” You stick your hand even further forward, awaiting his pinky.

“Yeah?” He asks with a lopsided grin. “How do I know you mean that?”

“It’s a pinky promise, Eddie.” You deadpan, as if he was supposed to know how eternally binding it was.

A few seconds pass, Eddie still looking from you to your pinky with round eyes, soft at the edges with something that resembles the innocence of a little boy. His inner child was sparkling, pouring from him like a forbidden fountain that only you had the honor of witnessing. When his pinky wraps around yours, his comically larger than yours, you can’t fight the way your heart flutters in response to the touch. His warmth encompassing yours, melting together like the sweetest chocolate.

Then, once your pinkies part, he speaks of a horrifying earthquake, striking his home town and wreaking havoc on the innocent lives once lived. He tells you of things that you would never in this lifetime believe, things that he was forced to believe within seconds, creatures that attacked him, putting him on his deathbed only to be revived and put in the hospital for weeks. Of the horrifying manhunt for him, how he was a wanted man for things he was never responsible for, conveniently at the peak of satanic panic. How he was blamed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, how the whole town pinned a murder on him. How there are things he could never even begin to explain like how Chrissy, the head cheerleader at his highschool had died right in front of him. And how she was the first girl he was actually interested in, only for her to die a horrific death before his eyes. He didn’t go into detail, though you didn’t need him to. You didn’t want him to re-live such trauma just to provide you further explanation.

Once all was said and done, once he was out of the hospital, he was arrested and sat in jail for a week or so, he couldn’t recall exactly how long. His uncle trying everything, doing everything he could to bail him out but he didn’t come from money so that proved to fail, especially since no one was on his side, even a majority of the police. He told you of Dustin and Lucas…of Max, Erika, Steve, Nancy, and Robin. The people that had always been on his side even when he was the only suspect for murder. The people he missed so dearly every day but could only see every so often when they could find time to visit. Which they did. He only wished he could go back home. If he did, it would only spark up another riot and it was against his agreement with the government to even step foot in the state of Indiana.

So when he was bailed out of jail, his friends all awaiting him just outside the station, it was bittersweet. He was relieved that he wouldn’t be stuck in that hell hole for the rest of his life like his dad but he was terrified of leaving everything he’d ever known. It was his dream to someday get out of that place, a place that he wouldn’t name which was most likely due to his agreement. But the second he was forced to leave, he didn’t know what was next for him, a terrifying concept for any smalltown boy at the fresh age of 20.

Wayne had intervened, making plans for Eddie to move in with his grandfather, Roy out in the middle of the mountains a few states away rather than being shipped somewhere where he had no connections, a setup for failure. Eddie told you about how he didn’t know his grandpa his entire life, didn’t even know he still had one until he went to live with him. But without any hesitation, Roy took him under his wing, stating that it's what his daughter, Eddie’s mother would’ve wanted him to do. The least he could do for a boy who only knew broken family and lost his beloved mother so young.

You learn that his grandfather had distanced himself due to Eddie’s dad and truthfully didn’t know of Eddie’s existence until Wayne made that phone call. The moment he found out he had a grandson, he welcomed him with open arms and put him to work at the bar, giving him a kind of security that Eddie had never been familiar with in his life. Grandpa Roy died last year of kidney failure, leaving Eddie everything and you could tell it was really taking a toll on him, the responsibility of the bar, the fear of losing it and disappointing his grandfather.

It seems that within the span of ten minutes, you learn Eddie’s life story. From the incident back in Indiana to how his dad created destruction in his life long before that and how he would teach Eddie how to commit petty theft and hotwire cars. He was on the route to becoming just like his dad before Wayne got involved, fighting like hell for legal custody of him. His dad refused time and time again although Eddie spent most nights and days at Wayne’s trailer anyway. Wayne didn’t want him to have any authority over Eddie, the man was a criminal and an addict that would leave poor young Eddie alone for days to fend for himself until he decided to come back. He didn’t want that life for Eddie.

Eventually, he won, the courts taking far too long to review the case but he was granted full custody and not long after, Eddie’s dad was arrested for grand theft auto. He still rots in jail to this day for several other crimes he committed once he got out the first time.

It was all laid out for you, Eddie’s entire upbringing. His whole life on display for you to judge if you felt so inclined to. You didn’t. You sat and you processed. Deciphering that Eddie is the way he is because of the way he had been treated his entire life. An outcast among the working class, growing up in poverty and being made fun of for things out of his control. Kids steering clear from him for the simple fact that he was his father’s son and that his name had already been tarnished before he was even born. It was becoming clear as to why Eddie was so emotionally withdrawn. How could he not be?

“Eddie I–” “If you say you’re sorry I’ll puke again.” He jokes.

It was something you found so endearing within him, his ability to remain playful even when addressing his trauma. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism. You could relate if it was.

“Let’s just, uh, call it a night. I think that’s enough about me. I don’t wanna talk about me anymore.” He shakes his head, exhausted but still displaying a playful smile.

“Okay. Yeah.” You agree, opening the door before he stops you with a raise of his hand.

“Would this…would this be a bad time to tell you that I’m ninety nine percent sure that I left my keys at the party?” He squeezes his eyes shut.

“Wow.” You sigh, resting your head on the steering wheel. “Look at how the tables have turned.” You grin, shoving his shoulder, eliciting a grunt from him.

“Gonna make me sleep on the porch with the bears?” He half jokes. He wouldn’t blame you.

“Only if you don’t puke on me like I did to you.”

Eddie can’t fight his grin, dimples deepening. He’s thankful that it’s too dark to make out the pink tinting his cheeks.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiesxangel @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean @micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson au #stranger things fic #strangers things au #stranger things fanfic #bartender!eddie munson #bartender!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic

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pianocat939 · 7 months

Text

…

(I ended up studying for like 5 hours today on foreign language idk why, but yeah- I’ll try to get a request done. And start on Ch. 1 of monster series)

I make way too many alternates but…

Just listen.

Mean girl Donnie.

Tw: implied/explicit threatening, implied bribery maybe?, very disorganized thoughts, blackmailing, controlling behaviour, degradation, please read with caution just cuz’ the relationship is pretty toxic…in a controlling way

Like not the popularized, blonde and have a group kind of mean girl-

I mean like…

Super smart and super rich Mean girl Donnie.

He’s on the way to valedictorian, (and will be). He has a lot of power within the school, whether it’s being leader of multiple clubs or a student president.

He’s super fucking rich. (Somehow…) He’s wearing Dior, Prada, Saint Laurent, Swarovski, Burberry- Anything you can imagine of luxury.

He never looks bad. Ever. He’s always looking perfect. He could be wearing a really dashing purple suit and loafers one day. And another day be wearing hot pink and white sweater and skirt- like he wears all kinds of clothes. But he never looks bad.

He doesn’t have a minion group. He solely believes in his independence. [His brothers…he doesn’t put much notice on them, he’s a more notable being]

Let’s say MC is like. Just there. Not unpopular or popular…just there.

Their life is pretty mundane until they accidentally bump into Donnie while he was fixing his- idk lipstick or eyebrows- causing it to go wild on his face.

He’s immediately offended, confronting them why they have the audacity to ruin his perfect makeup/brows.

[his appearance (feminine or masculine) changes every day so either situation works]

MC ends up getting a life of hell from then on.

Wether they’re accused by teachers for no reason, or wondering why their friends or more on edge when talking to them. Their school life isn’t exactly hell…but isn’t great either.

At some point, they can’t tolerate it and ask Donnie what he did. Only to end up unraveling a horror story of a dictator.

He’s blackmailing them, threatening that he’ll expose it to everyone, and anything. (MC didn’t even do such a thing, he just managed to fake it).

Poor MC can’t help but accept his deal by being his “minion” for the next month.

In the morning, MC has to basically chauffeur Donnie to school, in a flashy ass Bugatti.

They have to carry all his stuff, and follow him around. They can’t go through their normal schedule, they have to follow his.

They have to participate at all his extracurricular events, meetings, whatever.

Until a few weeks later, the things they have to do change.

They have to wear the clothes he’s picked out for them on whatever day. [it’s always matching in colour or style with his]

They have to call him any form of endearments he wants. And gets pissed if they don’t.

[Now I know he isn’t for physical touch, but for the sake of the alternate bear with me]

On days he wears lipstick, he covers them in kisses on their face, staining their cheeks all over. And they can’t take it off, because of his annoyance. So the entire school knows.

They have to follow EXACTLY the same schedule as him, even outside of school. Like…maybe not doing the exact same thing, but waking up, sleeping, and all like the daily things have to be aligned with his.

They have to call him every night and talk with him…keep him company. (Which MC soon realizes Donnie actually thinks of MC as a significant other, just in a controlling way.) He gets quite lovey-dovey during the midnight calls.

“MC…you’re the only person I like touching at all~ I mean…you look so stupid walking around covered in my lipstick stains hihi~…”

They sleep over at his house every weekend- they’re just basically incorporated into his life.

…

By the end of the month, the entire school just considers MC as Donnie’s lover…and MC can’t deny the title no matter what. The school believes Donnie more than MC.

——————————————————

(This brain rot turned out a lot longer than I thought oops-)

You know, we got rich mean girl Donnie,

How about Dumb Pink Squad Leo? Like, the actual stereotypical mean girls.

- Celina

(I need help from my thoughts lmao)

#rottmnt #tmnt #yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere x reader #rottmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #tmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie x reader #yandere donnie

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tmntheadcanons · 9 months

Text

tmnt 2003 headcanons: sleeping

Leo:

The room needs to be pitch black, dead silent and ice cold for him to fall asleep.

And he is a very light sleeper. I feel like he was always a bit like this but also trained himself to wake up quickly and easily when he hears something.

And he sleeps straight on his back like he is in a coffin.

And he sleeps with one pillow and it's the same, flat pillow he has been using for the last 10 years.

He won't go to sleep unless he knows everyone is home.

I think the difference between him and Donnie would be that Donnie doesn't let himself sleep but Leo actually can't sleep. I feel like he's naturally a bit of an insomniac but when he tries to sleep he kinda spirals in his own thoughts and stresses himself out.

But it's not always stress that keeps him up it'll be like the song Mikey was singing the same four lines of all day is now violently stuck in his head keeping him awake and he's thinking about how he is going to murder his brother in the morning.

Mikey:

Sleeps with a minimum of 5 pillows. One for spooning, two for his head, one for his feet and one to violently throw off the bed while half asleep at 3 am.

He can really sleep anywhere though. (And he will)

He talks in his sleep. He'll mutter a lot of non-sensical stuff and also he'll sometimes just straight up laugh in his sleep. And he rolls around a lot during the night.

I think Mikey has the wackiest dreams. His dreams are very vivid and if someone shows up in his dream he will go out of his way to tell them about their guest star appearance in his absolutely off the wall bonkers dream.

Also he is the one who has the most nightmares

He likes to sleep with a little bit of noise. He likes the tv playing or music playing while he's falling asleep and if it's dead silent he'll find it a little unsettling.

Same with lights, he likes to have a lava lamp or some sort of soft light on in the room.

I think he would go absolutely feral for one of those galaxy project lights.

Also he's totally a blanket hog.

Raph:

The second his head hits the pillow he is out.

He could be mid conversation and just pass out. But it's only ever when he knows he can. He's good at staying awake if he needs to keep watch but if he's relaxed he can fall asleep in like 30 seconds.

And he sprawls out when he sleeps. He will starfish.

Or be half hanging off the bed.

And he violently snores.

And talks a little bit in his sleep too but not as much as Mikey, just every once in a while.

His dreams are super mundane. He'll come back from an absolutely wild experience, fall asleep and then dream about like doing the dishes.

But every once in a while he'll get a bad stress dream. I could see it being something social related like humans finding out about them and freaking out, or his whole family being upset with him because of something he did.

I feel like Raph would like a bit of white noise when he sleeps, like a fan or something. He doesn't need it to fall asleep, but he likes it.

Like Leo, he is also a bit of a light sleeper, but he falls asleep again pretty quickly after he wakes up.

Donnie:

He's good at staying awake for long periods of time but once he's out, he's OUT.

Must be physically shaken to wake him up.

He is frequently sleep deprived so every once in a while he will crash and sleep for like 14 hours. Most nights he goes to bed way too late especially when he's working on something but usually when he's finished he'll have a recovery day.

Like I said with Leo, his issue is that he doesn't let himself sleep. He won't actually go to bed he will just suck back coffee and keep doing what he's doing. However, I could see him having similar issues as Leo after Good Genes or SAINW, where he overworks himself at night to avoid spiraling thoughts while he's trying to fall asleep.

I feel like he's bad for being like "Okay I'm going to stop working and actually go to bed" and then instead of sleeping he sits in the dark on his computer on the internet until 4 in the morning.

He curls up when he sleeps he never sleeps just flat on his back.

But he'll always wakes up in a weird position he'll be like upside town on his bed in what looks like a yoga position and be like "How did I get here?"

#tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2003 headcanons #tmnt headcanons #I'm sorry these are kind of more angsty than I meant them to be. I started out with haha Raph snores and then it kind of spiraled

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mutatedninjas · 2 months

Text

cleaning┆2012 turtles

summary - how the 2012 turtles would like to shower/bathe with you

pairing - 2012 ninja turtles x gender neutral reader

content warnings - suggestive themes, fluff

········· ········· ༉‧₊˚. ········· ·········

💙 LEONARDO

Leo would be thrilled at the idea of showering with you, but only in his head. The turtle had never really thought of actually doing it before, so when the idea was brought up for the first time, he was a little nervous but tried his best not to show it; he was the leader after all.

Leo would be the kind of man to shower with cold water, followed by a list of reasons as to how cold water benefits you.

In the shower, Leo stayed mostly focused on keeping you clean by scrubbing your back with a loofah or massaging your scalp with his large fingers.

Showering with Leonardo would be a more peaceful experience rather than intimate, usually you two would take a shower after sex to wind down or maybe just before you two go to sleep.

❤️ RAPHAEL

Raph prefers to take baths with you. When you two first had a bath together, Raph tried to be as intimate and romantic as possible. You and Raph would occasionally fuck; being bodily close to you was basically his love language which is why you two were always hip by hip. Usually, Raph would ask to share a bath whenever you or him had a bad day or were dealing with stress.

In the bath, Raphael would lean back, his shell being supported by the acrylic tub as he pulled you on top of him. His calloused hands would rest on your hips, his fingers rubbing gentle circles on the soft skin.

The stress you both felt would grow faint in minutes, becoming replaced with soothing kisses and sighs of relaxation.

He would dry you off afterwards, gently wrapping you in one of his towels to keep you warm as he drained the water of the bath.

He would then take you to his room, letting you lay on his bed as he pulled you on top of him once again; after all, it was his love language.

💜 DONATELLO

Donnie would want nothing more than a steamy bath with you after a long day in the lab. Donnie liked to light scented candles, decorate the bathroom with your favourite flowers, and sometimes even buy your favourite soaps and shower products. Baths with Donnie were fun and something that you would always look forward to, but always too afraid to ask for.

From time to time, he would make soaps with special healing minerals in his lab, just for his lover. Occasionally, in the bath, he would wash your body gently with the cleansers he created; most of them being your favourite scents. After the bath, he would dry you off and grab the lotion he made a few hours ago, lathering your soft skin with the cream.

🧡 MICHAELANGELO

Mikey would always offer if you would like to come and join him in the shower, regardless of how tired you both were; you two would always take advantage of it.

When you two showered together, which was a common occurrence, Mikey would initiate a make out session, followed by Raph banging at the door yelling at his younger brother to hurry up, completely oblivious as to what him and his significant other were actually doing in there. You two would usually get into a deep conversation, while casually scrubbing every inch of each other’s body.

Doing mundane tasks for you was his way of showing you his appreciation, his love. That’s why he would wash your body, massage your shampoo into your hair and knead your nerves away with his hands, despite your protests of how you were able to do it yourself.

········· ········· ༉‧₊˚. ········· ·········

a/n - our first post! i hope you guys liked this one and if you have any ideas of what you want us to write next, let us know <3

yours truly,

L ༉‧₊˚.

#mutatedninjas #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo

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plothooksinc · 6 months

Note

As promised, I have arrived with a prompt for NRFTW extra-content. I would loooooove to see the Hamato family come over to meet April's parents over dinner. 👀😎

this was less written and more 'the characters stuffed the author in the trunk and drove the plot themselves, but at least they gave the author popcorn'

WARNING: THIS IS A 30 PAGE STORY, IT IS THE UNDERDARK OF FAMILY DINNERS--

“Okay, so remember what I said about Raph.”

“He’s big. Don’t stare.”

“Great. I mean yeah, he’s huge, but he’s a big softie—”

“I get it. Stop being so worried.”

“Oh, and keep the gravy separate—”

“I got it!”

“—for Donnie, he has—”

“April.”

“...sensory issues?”

“So does your dad. Business as usual. You remember we’ve had this conversation three times already, right?”

“Sorry, mom. I’m just, uh…”

“You’re sitting down with friends you’ve known for years, not going to prom with a flock of mean girls. Stop pacing, for Pete’s sake. Look, get the potatoes out of the oven for me.”

“You got it.”

“How is… Leo? Is it Leo?”

“Yeah. He’s coming. AOPBA.”

“I have no clue what that means.”

“He has over-protective brothers.”

“Well, great, two birds with one stone. Go make up the couch so I don’t have to look at your face. Green is a better look on your turtle friends, baby, just sayin’.”

“Thanks so much.”

---------

There was really no good reason to be nervous. Donnie had already met her parents in less than stellar circumstances, and it had put Mom in a good mood for the rest of the evening. The ice had been broken; the guys had wanted to meet her family for ages, and she knew now it would be okay.

It didn’t stop the low level jitters as April padded the couch out generously with pillows and a comforter or two. It was like elation and terror had decided to go clubbing together somewhere in her rib cage. In the end, it came down to this being new. Something life-changing. The status quo forever being overturned. It was a good thing.

(It was damn terrifying, was what it was.)

The living room floor was generously covered in rugs and loose carpeting—both new and borrowed—because they weren’t made of money and the floor was still in the process of being repaired. Her dad had made fretful noises about inviting guests over in such conditions, and it was Carol that had reminded him, dryly, that “Honey, those kids live in a sewer. I don’t think they’re gonna judge us.”

“They live in an old subway station now,” April had said helpfully, and August had perked up with some interest and asked about logistical details, because her dad was a nerd like that and enjoyed his boats and trains, and his nerves about the floor were long forgotten. Nobody mentioned the fact that the guys already knew her apartment had been half destroyed in the little Krang’s attack. It was a fact that, by unspoken agreement, they had all decided to sweep under the rug.

Literally.

Hah.

Anyway, given Carol had slung a whole bunch of rapid-fire questions her way about the boys’ dietary requirements and August was fretting about being judged, April was reasonably sure her parents had come to terms with the fact her four best friends were giant walking turtles with comparative ease. It probably helped they’d been thrown into the deep end of things, even if it had led to super uncomfortable conversations and her parents staring at her as if they were expecting her to don a cape and go fight crime or some dumb stunt. It probably also helped that they knew Donnie and Mikey had come to bail her out, and that they were literally, y’know, responsible for saving the city.

Most of April’s nerves weren’t about the turtle aspect. It was whether her two families would like each other. Which was hilariously one of the most mundane things to worry about, considering literally everything else.

Story of her life, honestly.

She’d just finished squishing a pile of pillows into the corner of the couch when she heard her phone buzz, and fished it out.

Donnie: >> We’re here. Wardrobe check? Puppy eyes face.

Dumbonardo: >> Donnie has no class. 🥺

Donnie: >> Leo has no brain, but you already knew this.

She snorted. Then April glanced toward the kitchen to make sure Carol was busy with the oven and sidled toward the front door, slipping through as quietly as she could.

They were waiting there for her in the hallway. Splinter stood slightly apart from the boys, arms folded and looking sulky, but his fur was neatly washed and combed through and he was wearing a nice shirt which… was more flattering than some things she’d seen on him. April could be that generous. Donnie was wearing his sweater vest combo and standing ramrod straight like someone was about to push him onto a stage—no surprise there—and Mikey was wearing some nice slacks and an orange turtle-neck and beaming widely, carrying a casserole dish.

“Hiii, April,” he whispered. “We clean up good, right?”

“Puttin’ the rest of us to shame, Mikey,” she said with a grin, and gave him a fist bump.

“Speak for yourself,” Leo said lazily, draped over Raph’s shoulder like a blue and green fur stole. He was wearing one of his over-large hoodies; comfort over style, and April was relieved, to be honest. “I think Raph gives him a run for his money.”

April turned to take him in, and-- “Damn, son.” She gave a low whistle at Raph’s white suit and pink shirt, hanging on him pretty stylishly for all that his spikes had already done a number on his elbows. “You go shopping for that? Tell me you didn’t just have that hidden in your room this whole time.”

Raph preened a little before glancing down at the carpeted floor, pushing his fingers together bashfully. “We had to find something nice for Casey to wear anyway, so Raph thought—”

“Raph thought right.” April gave him a double thumbs up. And then frowned. She couldn’t see the last invited guest. “Is he not here?”

“Oh, he’s here,” Leo said quietly, a small helpless smile on his face. “He’s just shy.”

And Raph and Donnie separated so she could peer down the hallway; at Casey, who was literally lurking in the gloomy corner by the entrance to the stairwell, hunched as if trying to make himself small.

April frowned.

“Be nice, April,” Mikey whispered. “He’s, uh…”

“I get it.”

April made her way past them all, coming to a stop in front of Casey. He cleaned up pretty nicely, actually; she wasn’t sure who’d dressed him, but dress jeans and a nice jacket over a dark T-shirt nearly made him look like a different person. His hair was tamed and in a neat braid, and he looked up and gave her the shyest of smiles. “Hi, April. Sorry, uh…”

“Not used to the idea of family dinner?”

“Not really a thing where I come from, no.” He ran a hand through his hair, causing some of the strands to come loose, and she hid a grin. “But it’s not that. Um… are you sure I’m... welcome? I’m not really—”

“You think these guys would take you for a fashion montage if you weren’t?” she said drily. “Mom and Dad know you’re coming, trust me. They’ve made some simpler food just to make sure you can stomach it okay, and they’re looking forward to meeting all of this extended family. Which you are a part of.”

“Tooold youuu,” Leo sing-songed down the hall.

“Shut it, Nardo.”

“You can’t talk to me like that, I’m walking wounded—”

“Who’s walking?”

There was some general cackling. Casey’s next smile was more relaxed, and he let April tug him back down the hallway.

...and then they all jumped as the door to April’s apartment was flung open suddenly and her mother leaned casually in the open frame, tugging her oven mitts off, meeting their deer-in-headlights stares with a wry look of her own.

“Hi—um, that—um--” Donnie pushed forward and saluted her mother, and April clapped a hand over her mouth to stop the laugh. “Hello, Mrs O’Neil! As you can see, I am a sweater vest—I mean—”

Leo made a strangled sound and flopped limply over Raph’s shoulder; he’d have slid down if Raph hadn’t reached out to steady him with a tired move that said he was very used to this happening. “Oh pizza supreme, don’t make me laugh, you know I’m fragile—”

Mikey slapped a hand over Leo’s mouth, smile bright and eyes a little too wide. “Hi, Mrs O’Neil!” he chirped. “It’s nice to meet you, we brought casserole!”

Said casserole was snatched out of his hands a moment later by Splinter, coughing dramatically before he gave a dramatic bow that meant he was mostly addressing Carol’s knees. “I brought casserole, in fact! It’s my traditional green bean casserole, handed down through generations, made for one of my biggest fans!”

Carol raised an eyebrow.

“Dad, we talked about this,” Donnie muttered.

“No, you talked about this,” Splinter huffed. “I was going to come dressed in style, until you rudely tackled me to the ground and took my clothes.”

Carol’s raised eyebrow took on a level of alarm, and April sidled up to her mother with a quick hiss. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

“No, we did in fact do that,” Donnie said flatly. “Trust me, it was necessary.”

“...okay, it is as bad as it sounds—”

“My own sons,” Splinter grumbled. Then he straightened, beaming at Carol. “Children, am I right? Full of well-meaning hypocrisy. Sure, my son gets to dress as that hack Don Johnson, but when I try to dress as—”

“Yeah, Raph still doesn’t know who that is.”

Splinter wilted. To April’s delight, Carol seemed to wilt right along with him. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

“Well,” her mom said, dry as the desert. “If you’re done making us feel old as dirt, won’t you come in? Unless you want to spend the evening in my hallway doing more fashion checks. I could always bring you a mirror. But if you’ll take my word for it, I think you all look just fine.”

She stepped aside and they filed past, shuffling into the living room more bashfully than April had ever seen them, which was altogether kind of endearing. Carol paused long enough for April to close in with Casey still in hand, and gave him a warm smile that made him relax just a little more.

Then she hissed quietly to April, “Biggest fan?”

Eugh boy. “Yeah, you uh…” April trailed off, wondering if she could just deflect that question with a shrug as if to say she had no clue. But she knew Splinter; he would keep making comments, so better forewarned, right? “You know how you started watching Lou Jitsu movies with me? And, uh, how much you like them? To the point Dad threatened divorce if you mentioned Lou’s tight pants one more time?” Which was an empty threat, given Dad watched those movies almost as closely as her mom did, and April suspected it was for the same reasons. It had been a running joke for a while.

“Yes…?”

“Great! Get ready to be emotionally scarred.”

“...what?”

---------

They introduced themselves properly once they were all inside, and to her credit Carol was still smiling, even if April could see the faintly wild look in her eyes. At least she’d never told Splinter just how much her mom liked him-- enough to say she was a huge fan, nothing more.

“August will be here in a moment,” she said cheerfully. “He’s just finishing up with the roast, and then we’ll serve. You can call us Mr and Mrs O’Neil, or you can call us Carol and August. We don’t mind. It’s lovely to meet you at last. Donatello, your sweater vest looks great.”

Donnie jerked ramrod straight again, voice high-pitched. “Thank you!”

Bless her mom for throwing him a bone. April grinned. “So, this is Splinter, or Hamato Yoshi—”

“You can call me Lou,” Splinter said with a small bow, taking the casserole from his hands with his tail and depositing it onto the table with a flourish. April had never seen him like this. It was hilarious and painful, but the mortified looks on the guys’ faces made it worth it. (Casey just looked clueless. Lucky kid.)

“Nice to meet you, Lou,” Carol said, politely and as if April hadn’t upended her world not thirty seconds ago. Damn, but her mom was good. “And Donnie I’ve already met. Hmm, can I guess the others?”

“Oh, go ahead,” Leo said cheerfully, waving at her from his perch, and her smile softened considerably as she glanced up at him, taking in the curve of bandages just visible through the over-large neck of his hoodie.

“You would be Leo, then. You doing okay, sweetie?”

Leo blinked. “Uh… yes? I mean, of course! I mean—” He darted a look at April, eye ridges raised.

“She knows,” April assured him. “It’s okay.”

Leo grinned in response, letting himself flop loosely in Raph’s grip to finger gun with both hands, and April grinned as Raph obligingly kept hold of him and rolled his eyes. “I may be a little bruised, but I wouldn’t have missed this for the world. It’s nice to meet you, Mrs O! I also rock a mean sweater vest, but my brothers would only let me travel casual.”

“You’re lucky we let you come at all,” Donnie muttered.

“You’re just jealous because I, unlike some brothers I could mention, did not make my first impression in—”

Then he yelped as Splinter smacked him in the side of the head with his tail. A light smack, April noted with amusement, as Donnie flicked him from the other side. Clearly Leo was slowly losing all his coddling rights.

“Well, a little bruised or not, it’s nice to meet you too,” Carol said easily. “April did tell me you’ve been laid up until just recently, so we’ve made up the couch for you, okay? There’s no shame in tapping out early if you get tired.”

Leo blinked at her, looking taken aback. And then his answering smile was a faintly relieved, hesitant thing as he held out a hand for her to shake, voice small.

“Deal. Thanks, mom.”

You could have heard a pin drop.

“Mom?” Mikey said slyly.

Leo promptly went as red as his stripes and planted his face on Raph’s jacket. But he kept his hand out until Carol shook it—gently, holding back a laugh—and then went full limp noodle. “Case,” he whined. “Help me out here?”

Casey helpfully reached out to tug the hood over his head. Leo gave him a thumbs up.

April dissolved into cackling as Carol turned a carefully blank face on Raph. “April’s told me just enough about all of you, really. You must be Raph. And this sweet little man here must be Mikey?”

She was expecting a clap back from Mikey about being little, so April was very surprised when he just dimpled sweetly and gave her his best I-am-an-innocent-child impression. His cheeks were faintly flushed, and for the first time she wondered if she should be recording this for posterity. That was like… three blushes, so far.

“That’s right! Raph’s all gentle giant and I am just the sweetest little package, baby.”

“I’m sure,” Carol said, straight-faced. And then lastly she turned to Casey, and her smile was warm. “And you’re Casey Jones. Are you nervous?”

“A little,” he admitted, tugging at his braid but he smiled back. “But it’s so nice to meet you again. I mean—sorry, the first time, I’ve just heard a lot about you—”

April blinked, mouth open as she considered that particular insinuation. And wasn’t surprised when Leo’s head suddenly shot up, all sign of embarrassment gone and with a blinding smile. “Yeah, I gotta say April has told us so much about you guys that it does kind of feel like we’ve met you already!”

“Well, then,” Carol said lightly. “You’ll have to tell me all about yourselves to make us even. April’s told us a little this week, but it seems we might have years to catch up on.”

“We would be more than happy to regale you with tales of our exploits,” Splinter beamed back. “And in turn perhaps you could tell me your—”

“And we should all sit down because Dad’s probably almost done,” April said loudly. “Save the talking for after dinner! I’m starved.”

“I should help August bring the dishes out anyway.” Carol gave April a pointed look. “Hon? Would you give me a hand? The rest of you, table’s just through here…”

---------

“What do you mean that’s Lou Jitsu?” August hissed, handing April the cauliflower bake. “He’s a rat. Lou Jitsu isn’t a rat.”

“He is now, babe,” Carol said blandly.

“A rat with four turtle children?”

“And a human child.”

“How does that even—”

“Remember asking about the skeleton, sweet pea?”

“...okay, fine,” he muttered, nose wrinkling. “I’ll be good.”

April eyed them both. “Look at it this way, dad. The longstanding threat to your happy marriage has been removed.”

“April—”

“—O’Neil!”

She burst into giggles and skipped out of the kitchen, balancing the cauliflower and potatoes and the jug of gravy, and wasn’t surprised to find Mikey just outside the kitchen door, making grabby hands for her dishes. April cheerfully palmed them off and returned for more, grinning sunnily at the twin glares of her parents. “Anyway, Casey’s… uh, adopted? That’s the simplest way of explaining him.”

“Gotta admit, I wasn’t expecting the one I find the strangest to be a normal human boy,” Carol mused. She frowned. “Is he the one from the, uh. Future?”

“The future,” her dad repeated back mechanically.

“Shush, dear.”

“Yeah.” And April had both a burning curiosity of how Casey knew her mother in the future and a dread to find out, because she was pretty sure none of them got happy endings where Casey came from. “Best to leave that well alone. Too heavy for a dinner topic.”

“Right. Future discussions are off the table,” August said, with a weary tone that said sure, fine, this might as well happen. “The invasion too, obviously. Anything else we haven’t already covered?”

“No. But just so you know,” April said mildly, “Rats have excellent hearing.”

She nudged aside her suddenly frozen parents, scooped up the roast tray, and sailed back out to the table.

Mikey took that from her, too, apparently intent on setting the table with a certain amount of flare, and April let him, more than happy to watch him handling pans that he might have had difficulty holding a week ago. She knew his arms were still bandaged under the sweater-- and knew also why he was wearing an actual turtleneck, no pun intended. The scarring up to his chin was still fading, but they’d stopped hurting days ago, leaving him with full range of movement.

(“Unless I’m really tired,” he’d said, giving her jazz hands at their last movie night. “So I’m still being careful.”

“Yes,” Draxum had said flatly. “It’s amazing how fast one heals when one actually pays attention to a mystic’s expert advice.” Mikey had thrown a pillow at him, end of discussion.

...which reminded her--)

“Hey, Mikey. Barry knows he’s invited, right?”

That earned her a predictable snort from Leo, who had been settled into a chair by Raph. “I’m not sure Draxum does family dinners.”

“You’d be surprised,” Mikey muttered.

“What was that?”

“I said what a surprise.” He twirled the roast tray once and settled it down on the table with flare. “He’ll be here. Just in time for dessert, he said! He’s looking forward to it.”

“Uh huh.” Donnie eyed him. “You threatened him, didn’t you?”

“I would never.” Mikey waved a finger at them, planting his other hand on his hip. “I merely pointed out it would be sad if he wasn’t included in this family get-together, given he is now family, unless he wants to deny any such attachment, and shunning a family dinner isn’t the proper or the neighbourly thing to do—”

“Oh, my apologies. You emotionally blackmailed him.”

“That’s better.”

“Why dessert?” April wanted to know.

“He’s, uh…” Mikey trailed off. “Well, it. Takes a while to bake brownies.”

Raph squinted. “Draxum is baking. Brownies.”

They all paused to take in that mental image.

“Oh, that’s not going to be edible,” Donnie muttered. “The guy can make a sandwich. Barely.”

“He can make a mean gruel, though,” April said wryly. “I mean. Literally.”

“I left him a recipe!” Mikey defended, though the way his shoulders hunched told April it was more out of loyalty than any actual belief in Barry’s capabilities. She frowned.

“Shoulda just told him store bought was fine, Mikes. Then he’d be here for dinner.”

Mikey gasped theatrically. “First of all, how dare you.” Leo gave a snort at his little brother’s affront and reached out for the gravy boat, flinching back when Mikey slapped his hand away without even looking. “Second! He wanted to try. You don’t want to hurt the nice goat scientist’s feelings, do you?”

“You want an honest answer?” Leo muttered. Mikey yanked his hood violently down over his face.

“Letting him try is just fine,” Splinter said with great generosity, leaning back in his chair. He’d been sporting the same cheesy grin since April walked back in from the kitchen, and that promised to be entertaining. But later. “When he fails, we can point and laugh—”

The way Mikey just teleported right in there to tower over his dad was impressive, and April reached out automatically to grab the back of Splinter’s chair before he could tip it all the way backwards in sheer terror. “We are not doing that.”

“No, we are not,” Raph said comfortingly, hands up as it to forestall a tiny mystic warrior explosion. “I know some will hate to hear it, but Draxum really pulled through for us. We should support him! In his, uh… domestic endeavours.”

“And his mad science endeavours.”

“Donnie.”

“What? I have my interests.”

“I do hate to hear it,” Leo said slowly, and they all turned to look at him as he peered out from his hood like some evil alternate Kermit!Leo. “Buuut you know. There’s petty, and then there’s mean. If he’s trying to be nice, let him try.”

There was silence at the table for a second time.

Then Donnie stood and pointed dramatically. “Who are you and what have you done with our brother?”

“Wow, Leo, that’s very mature of you,” Raph said suspiciously.

“I know, right?” Mikey wiped away a fake tear. “He’s come so far.”

“I am the very model of maturely letting my grudges go,” Leo said, stifling a yawn. “And if he accidentally poisons us all, I can hold it over you for at least a month.”

Oh. That was more like it.

---------

It took her parents longer than strictly necessary to bring out the rest of the food, and April was pretty sure they’d just been schooling their expressions into the most poker-faced they could, mortified by the knowledge that Splinter had probably overheard every word-- and honestly, given that Splinter occasionally gave a small muffled snort into his hand and tried to look innocent every time his sons stared at him, Carol and August were. Probably still talking about him. She was kind of glad she couldn’t hear them. April shoved his chair with a foot as she sat down and levelled him with mock glare over the rim of her glasses.

“Be nice,” she whispered severely.

Splinter leaned towards her to whisper back. “April, such little faith. I am already having the time of my life at this dinner. Why would I do anything to spoil the mood? I know how to act around fans.”

“These aren’t just fans, these are my parents.”

“Well, I know how to act around parents, too,” he said, waggling his eyebrows and outright leering, oh god. “I was a teenager, once, and dating was—”

“Please stop talking,” she hissed.

Splinter gave her a wide and mischievous grin, and that’s when it occurred to her he was being a little shit on purpose. But his smile faded, and he folded his hands delicately on the table in front of him. “Trust me. I know this is important.”

She breathed out. Yeah, okay. She did, after all, trust him, and he had dressed nicely for dinner. If he was truly set on arriving dressed as his eighties-Lou-Jitsu persona, April was pretty sure the guys wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“What’s important?” Mikey said from the other side of the table, and she glanced up to find the others looking at them with curiosity.

“Good table manners,” Splinter said mildly. “Which means you should all stop leaning on the tablecloth like that. Elbows off!”

They all immediately pulled back and sat primly at the table, looking various shades of guilty—except for Casey, who flinched back from the tablecloth as if it might bite him. Poor guy had no reference for things like this, did he?

“Surprised you know decent table manners,” Donnie muttered.

“If it is such a surprise to you, I have failed as a father and we shall practice them more often at home.”

“Don’t you—”

“Leo,” April interrupted, watching Leo list faintly to the side. “You’re hurt. Nobody’s gonna care if you keep leaning.”

“Thank you,” he said fervently, and promptly flopped forward again, just as the kitchen door swung open.

Oh, good. Her parents had gotten over their crisis and were ready to feed the hungry. Carol hip-checked the door with her arms full of dishes and Mikey immediately jumped to his feet to help, and she shook her head at him, smiling gratefully. “I’m okay. But if you could help August with the glasses—”

“On it!” he said cheerfully and caught the door for her, holding it until she was clear before vanishing inside.

Carol smiled widely at the table and the guys smiled back, some smiles more natural than others—Donnie still looked like he was trying to get A Good Grade In Family Dinner—and she slid her burden of plates easily onto the table around the roast platter.

“Okay, so it’s a bit more buffet style than a usual roast dinner, but I thought that would be better, given I don’t know what you’d prefer. Casey, hon?” She favoured him with a warm look, and Casey straightened even more. “I’ve got both seasoned and steamed vegetables here, and a few alternatives in case the meat is too much for you to handle. The seasoned ones are on the spicy side. April tells me you’re still getting used to richer food?”

“Oh…” Casey blinked, darting a look at April that was both surprised and faintly grateful, and she huffed. She’d told him this already. Did he think she’d lied to him? “That’s—yes, that’s right, ma’am. I appreciate it, I’m sorry you had to go to so much effort—”

“None of that.” She handed him a plate. “This is a dinner for all of us. I’d feel like a lousy host if you couldn’t enjoy it. Pick and choose as you like, take it slowly. No one’s gonna judge. That includes the rest of you, just FYI.”

“No judgement!” Raph saluted, eyes darting to Donnie. “We appreciate it, Mrs O.”

“Thank you,” Donnie muttered quietly, eyes on the tablecloth.

“You’re very welcome.”

Mikey exited the kitchen with a tray of glasses and August trailed behind him with a collection of bottles-- soda and juice, and something that distinctly looked like the wine from the top of the fridge, and April squinted at it before raising an eyebrow at her dad.

“None for minors,” he whispered back. “Liquid courage.”

She snorted. “You’ll be fine.”

“But will your mom?”

“I heard that.” Carol snatched the wine away and deposited it by Splinter, whose eyes lit up. “Anyway. We’re sorry to keep you all waiting. Dig in! Don’t wait on us, there’s plenty for everyone.”

Leo put his hand up. “I admire your optimism, but I still vote Raph goes last. He’ll inhale everything here if he gets the chance—”

“Leo!” Raph sounded scandalised.

“What?” Donnie said, finally looking up with a more natural smirk on his face. “You know he’s right.”

“There’s a lot of me!” The poor guy was going as red as his mask, and April hid a grin. “You know Raph’s still a growing boy!”

“Raph can have as much food as he likes,” Carol said firmly, reaching up to pat him on the shoulder. God, April loved her mom so much. She was just rolling with this table of lunatics. “I honestly wasn’t sure how much to cook, so we’ve got plenty extra even if you do somehow inhale everything here. Just try not to inhale the dishes.”

“I would never,” Raph said, sounding horrified. “Turtle’s honour—”

April burst into giggles. “She’s joking, Raph, chill.”

“Oh.” Raph blinked. He met Carol’s gaze, who stared unflinchingly back and held up a hand.

Raph blinked again. Then he hesitantly gave her a high five, watched Carol’s smile grow, and finally grinned, the tension going right out of his shoulders.

April loved to see it.

“Aight, everyone,” she said, clapping her hands. “No more picking on Raph unless you want me to poke fun at you fussy eaters to make it even. Dig in, and don’t you dare insult my mama’s cooking.”

“We would never!” came the chorus.

Yeah. This should’ve happened years ago.

---------

The meal passed with some minor chatter—mostly complimenting the chef and asking for plates of food to be passed around. Mikey helped Casey pick out some simpler fare for his plate and he ate sparingly, but the expression on his face said he savoured every moment of it. Donnie was similarly picky for Donnie reasons, and looked faintly apologetic about the whole thing until April kicked him gently under the table and sent him a text.

April: >> Dad has sensory issues >> dw abt it

He relaxed a little after that, flashed her a small relieved smile, and even unwound from his stage fright enough to engage in conversation with her dad about the subway station and its abandoned trains. Mikey and Raph ate with their usual flare, though Mikey paused on each individual dish to gleefully exchange cooking tips with her mom. Splinter was surprisingly well-mannered, given April had seen him more than enough times with cake crumbs all throughout his fur.

Leo was being uncharacteristically picky, but he’d only come off a simple diet himself not so long ago, and the painkillers would be doing a number on his appetite. Raph and Donnie were both piling his favourites on his plate and he was clearly enjoying the food, but April had never seen him eating so slowly before, still balancing one arm on the table to support himself. Poor guy.

She wasn’t the only one to notice. Carol watched him waver and frowned. “You doing okay, Leo?”

He promptly flashed a peace sign at her, beaming. “Oh, for sure! I’m just a little low on energy. Kinda want a little bit of everything here, but—“

“Spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak?”

“Hah…” His grin became rueful, and he lowered the fork to his plate. “Not weak enough to stop me eating your delicious food! Tragically, I have no devoted servant to feed me lovingly by hand, so I’ll make do.”

“Um—”

“That was absolutely a joke, Case, don’t you dare.”

April grinned at Casey as he wilted back into his own seat. But okay, yeah, she could read the signs—from Leo’s slouch, growing worse by the minute, and the glances from his brothers that probably weren’t as surreptitious as they hoped. April nudged her mother quietly and made a meaningful gesture toward the living room, and Carol gave her a thumbs up and kept smiling pleasantly as if nothing had happened. “Well, I’m glad my delicious food has such a draw to it. I heard Barry is gracing us with a visit and dessert, is that right?”

Donnie visibly shuddered, but Mikey beamed as if she’d complimented his six year old son’s bronze swimming medal. “Yeah! He’s making brownies! He assures me they’ll be edible.”

“Consider me assured,” Carol said dryly. “I must say I’ve never tried Barry’s cooking before this in any form. We invited him for dinner a few times but he always refused. I guess I know why, now.”

Splinter peered at her. “You do?”

“Well, uh…” She looked sheepish. “I never really saw him out of his robe. He seemed like such a shut-in at the time, but… I guess dressing for dinner might have given away a few things.”

“Ah yes, that sounds like Draxum,” Splinter muttered. “Shut-in, barely bothers dressing—”

“Sounds like someone else we know,” Leo said sweetly, and Splinter choked.

“Leo defended Barry,” Mikey whispered in awe, and Leo pointed his fork at him.

“Leo saw low hanging fruit and went for it,” he corrected. “Besides, something about houses and stones? Isn’t that how it goes? Don’t throw glass at a stone house, it’s pointless and makes a mess?”

“Nardo, that is not how it goes and you know it--”

Carol coughed politely. “If you’re done being mean to your elders…” They all shut up and tried to look innocent—save Splinter, who merely stared back at his sons mournfully as if he could not believe the wrong they’d done him. “It seems there might be a pause between dinner and dessert, so I was going to suggest you kids go pile up in the living room after and go through our movie collection. August and I can continue to pick on your dad in your absence.”

“You can?” Splinter said warily.

“In a manner of speaking.” Her smile was warm, and maybe only April saw the sharpness around its edges this time, and she swallowed. But… again, she knew this was coming, too. “A parent to parent talk, as it were. Nothing too serious, I promise.”

And it gave them a good reason to transfer Leo to the couch without him feeling like he was ruining anything. April grinned to see his eyes light up at the idea.

“Oh, are you roasting our dad, too? That seems so fitting given the spread—”

“I dunno, Leo, a roast followed by a roast seems a bit overkill,” Mikey said thoughtfully.

“There’s no such thing as too much delicious roast.” Leo leaned forward. Which also had the effect that he could support his weight entirely on the table, April noted. “We’d be more than happy to clear out of your amazing hair until the totally safe brownies arrive.”

Carol transferred her smile back to him, the sharpness gone. “You can take your plate with you, if you like. I don’t want you to feel you have to rush through eating. April, could you find him one of our TV trays?”

“I’m sure that’s doable.” Actually, at this point she had no idea if those had survived the home invasion, but there was one way to find out. “Is everyone else done? I could help clear the plates—”

“No, that’s fine, hon. Your dad and I will clear the table.” Carol gave her a peck on the cheek and a small, meaningful squeeze to her shoulder. “You stay with your friends. August?”

August blinked up at her, startled, half a potato still speared on his fork. “Oh, now? But I just-- okay.” And he shoved the potato into his mouth, fork and all, to gather up empty dishes.

Leo watched him do it, and smiled lazily.

Then there was a sudden quiet after both of them vanished into the kitchen, and he slumped forward.

“That was… an attempt at subtlety, right?”

April grinned. “Dad doesn’t do subtle too well, that’s for sure. But they’re parents, Leo. They’re just worried about you.”

“They only just met me,” he grumbled, resting his head on his arm. “They’re really nice, but—”

“My mom probably decided you were adoptable at about the point Donnie made high-pitched noises in her general direction, my guy. Just accept her concern and move on.”

“Oh. So good to know my humiliation had some kind of strategic effect,” Donnie muttered, reaching across the table to snag Leo’s plate. “You want any more while we’re here?”

“...I’m fine.”

“Well, Raph wouldn’t mind a bit more beef,” Raph said comfortably, sharing a glance with Casey over his head. “And some potatoes! We can just use Leo’s plate for that.”

“Blue?” Splinter was quiet and out of his chair, patting his knee, and Leo lifted his head to peer at him. “You are okay, aren’t you?”

“Man, all this fuss.” Leo grinned faintly. “I promise I’m fine--”

Mikey loomed on his other side, not saying a word.

“—okay, maaaybe I wasn’t quite ready for sitting upright at a table for so long.” He made a face. “But I refuse to be banned from the O’Neil family dinner! You know how long we’ve waited for this—”

“Well, congrats, achievement unlocked,” April said, holding out her fist, and he obligingly bumped it with his own. “Now go curl up on our couch and quit your whining.”

“I wasn’t whining!”

Donnie raised an eyebrow. “He whined, whiningly.”

“Raaaph, they’re picking on me!” Leo whined.

Raph raised an eyebrow. “You wanna complain about it some more or do you want the comfy couch?”

“...couch, please.”

---------

Splinter stayed at the table, waving them off dramatically with a napkin, but the smile he gave April as she left was reassuring. It settled her nerves a little—she wasn’t stupid, she knew what was coming—and so she trailed after Raph as he carted Leo into the living room and settled him on the couch, burying him in comforters.

The sigh of relief Leo made as he sank into the cushions was more than enough to convince her that the move was well timed. “Heaven. I think everyone at family dinners should laze on a couch, honestly.”

“We’d need more couches for that.”

“That could be arranged,” Donnie said, passing a bottle to Casey and then… dropping to his hands and knees to investigate the carpet. What. April folded her arms and watched him.

“I think they’d need more room for the couches,” Casey said, opening the bottle—and oh, those were Leo’s painkillers.

“That could also be—”

“Donnie.” She scowled at him. “What are you doing?”

“Checking the damage,” he said absently, finally finding the edge of the carpet section and peeling it back, scowling at the torn up flooring beneath. “Huh. Bishop really refused to help pay for this?”

“Yeah, well. Bishop also didn’t arrest me for, I dunno, cavorting with evil yokai or whatever, so. I’ll take it.”

“This balance doesn’t add up,” Leo said mildly, taking his pills from Casey and his glass of juice. “Mr Edgelord also put you in danger in the first place. And your parents. Who we are adopting, by the way.”

“I don’t think it works that way—”

“It does, I don’t make the rules. Donnie, verdict?”

“Huh?” Donnie peered up at him. “Oh yeah, yeah, I guess we can adopt.”

“I meant the floor. But okay! Duly noted.”

Mikey started cackling as April threw her hands up and went on a hunt for the TV trays. Donnie blinked at Leo for a moment, then turned back to run his hands over the damage, flicking his goggles down. “I’m not much of a handyman type, but it looks like the structural integrity is intact. It’s just cosmetic and not particularly safe to walk on in the dark. Though that… is an understatement. The Krang did this?”

“Barry did, actually.” The TV trays had survived after all. April fished one out from its hiding place and passed it over to Raph. “But if he hadn’t, I’d probably be kind of torn to pieces, so--” She broke off to smile softly at Raph as he full-body flinched, and then stumbled as Mikey latched onto her like a koala. “Sorry. Anyway, I figure I’d give him a pass on that one.”

Leo slow blinked at her, resting his chin on the back of the couch, and his smile was an oddly cold one. “Yeah. Seems fair. Donnie, you still got a back door into Bishop’s stuff and things?”

Donnie hadn’t looked up, and his voice was very flat. “First of all, stuff and things is like literally the lamest way you could explain a black ops infrastructure, and second of all, why is it you just assume I would still be in his systems now that we’re—”

“Dee.”

“He’s upgraded his security in the past week. I’m doing the digital equivalent of eating popcorn and sidestepping his laughable experts.”

“Good to know. I s’pose getting on his nerves wouldn’t be the smart thing to do right now.”

“It is the opposite of smart. But the EPF is already footing the bill for the O’Neil hotel stay, I don’t see why they can’t shell out for the floor as well.” Donnie finally sat up, flicking his goggles back, and frowned at the scratched walls. “New paint job all round, actually.”

Leo nodded in satisfaction and settled into his nest of comforters, taking the tray from Raph who was surprisingly… not seeming even slightly upset about the whole idea of stealing money from a bunch of amoral secret agents.

April opened her mouth and shut it. “Uh—”

Donnie finally smiled at her. “Don’t worry about it.”

“But—”

“Seriously, he deserves it.”

“That’s not the part I’m worried about!” she snapped, and she waved an arm at Donnie as aggressively as she could with Mikey still limpet-clinging to her from behind. “You guys are on thin ice with him as it is—”

“So?” Leo said, eyes drifting shut. “He’s also on thin ice with us.”

“April.” Donnie finally got to his feet to regard her intently, leaning on the edge of the couch and deftly avoiding Leo’s attempt to nudge him with a foot. “I see you’re worried, but please give me some credit for basic money laundering tactics. The man’s never going to notice where the money actually went, if he even notices it’s gone at all. He’s got bigger fish to fry and it’s not as if we took millions.”

“You know, it says a lot when you say ‘basic money laundering tactics’ and everyone just rolls with it,” she said wryly, but her hackles settled a little. Bishop did deserve a little payback. She just didn’t want them painting even more of a target on their backs. “Raph? You sure you’re okay with this?” He was quiet and looked a little troubled, so--

“Well, see, the thing you gotta remember is…” Raph paused, clasping his hands together in front of him for a moment, and then exhaled gustily.

“...Raph only got to hit him once.”

There was a brief pause.

Leo burst into laughter, then hissed an ow and sank out of sight onto the couch, which caused Raph to dive for him with a panicked look. April wasn’t particularly concerned, given she could see Donnie rolling his eyes. She huffed a faint laugh herself, finally relaxing, and was rewarded with a squeeze of her shoulders and a full hug from behind.

“He messes with family, we mess with him!” Mikey said cheerfully in her ear. “Just go with it, April. You know Donnie covers his tracks.”

“Hmm.” But she smiled anyway, reaching up to pat his head. “Okay. Not gonna complain, as long as I can find a way to explain to my parents. But seriously—don’t go getting arrested or dissected or whatever on my account.”

“Depends on if we get a sequel or not,” Leo wheezed from the couch, resurfacing as Raph helped him sit back up.

“You sure you’re okay?” Raph said, still fretting.

“Oh, peachy. I can’t believe you punched a government agent and I didn’t get to see it.”

“Skill issue,” Donnie said, sounding bored. “Don’t get kidnapped next time, idiot.”

“Wow, rude. Raph, throw a pillow at him for me.”

“Yeah, Raph’s not doing that. Eat your dinner.”

“Aw, c’mon--”

A cushion sailed across the room and clipped Donnie in the face, sending him reeling backward, and Mikey caught it on the rebound, hollering. “For Leo’s honour!”

“You got kidnapped too, you know—”

“For my honour! For everyone’s honour except yours!”

“GASP!”

And the room promptly descended into chaos, which honestly she’d been expecting sooner than this. April just grinned, clicking her phone camera on to record Mikey’s subsequent attempted pillow beat-down of a hissing Donatello. Raph alternated between snorted laughter, half-hearted attempts at lectures, and trying to keep Leo’s tray of food balanced while Leo picked roast potato daintily off the plate with his fingers like popcorn, observing the proceedings with glee. He caught April’s filming and nearly choked, before sinking back out of sight on the couch again with a wave of his greasy fingers as April giggled.

It took her a few moments to realise that Casey had vanished from the room.

---------

“They sound like they’re having fun,” Carol noted.

“They’re probably destroying your living room,” Splinter replied glumly, taking the glass of wine August offered him. “Boys.”

“I’m sorry. Have you seen our child?”

“...teenagers.”

“Better.” Carol grinned and offered her own glass for a toast. “Here’s to new friendships?”

“Very traditional!” But he beamed anyway, clinking against her glass and then August’s. “To new friends and old fans. Aaand awkward conversations.”

Ah. “Kind of obvious, isn’t it?”

“A little.” His smile faded, showing a seriousness that seemed somehow out of place. “But you are good parents and April thinks the world of you. If we did not have this conversation, I would be a little concerned.”

August took his seat again, sitting far more relaxed now that the kids had gone, and tapped the rim of his own glass. “Your boy, Leo. How did he get so hurt?”

Something flickered through Splinter’s eyes that she couldn’t quite catch, and he stared down at his wine, mouth twisting. “A very long story. All of my boys were hurt during the invasion, but Blue unfortunately took the brunt of it. I am as proud of them as I was terrified for them.” His voice was far too mild for that statement and all the depth it contained, and Carol bit her lip as he tossed half the glass back.

Then he beamed at them. “But that is not the question you really want to ask.”

No. No, it wasn’t.

Carol needed to know, but she wasn’t sure how to phrase it and found herself hesitating for other reasons besides—so she glanced to August, who had a knack for being terribly blunt at times. He gave her a brief nod, and put his glass down.

“How safe is our daughter?”

Straight to the point. Splinter took a smaller drink, and met his gaze.

“All things being equal, far safer than the average teenager.”

August frowned unhappily, and his voice was flat. “She was involved in an alien invasion. They came to our house. Her nose was broken—”

“Lou,” Carol said softly. “We’re just worried about her. Your boys weren’t just here for the invasion, they fought on the front line. And so did she. Didn’t she?”

“Your daughter,” Splinter said steadily, “Took out one of those aliens with a wrecking ball. She blinded it, one eye at a time.”

“Is that meant to make us feelbetter?” August demanded, and Splinter turned a sober gaze on him. “We know April can look after herself. She shouldn’t have to. How much danger is she in just by associating with your family?”

“August.” Her voice was sharper that time.

“I’m sorry,” her husband said more quietly. “I don’t mean it quite like that—they’re obviously good kids. You should know, the turtle and rat thing is… confusing, but in the end that isn’t what this is about.”

Splinter smiled a little. “What this is about is that you think my boys dragged April into their fight and made her a target. Has April ever told you how long she has known them for?”

August paused, but it was only to calculate the passage of time. They both knew when it was that April had come home talking about the boys she’d met on the roof. Six… seven years ago? Maybe eight? And...ah.

“This is the first time she’s been in trouble,” Carol said, feeling relieved. She understood. After all, holding an alien invasion against Splinter’s family would be extremely rude. April could have been hurt worse if she didn’t know such powerful people--

“Oh no,” Splinter said bluntly. “She’s definitely been in trouble before this.”

“...what?”

“Let’s see…” He sipped his wine. “She’s been captured by your upstairs neighbour at least twice by my count—”

“What.”

“Don’t make those faces, he was nice enough to let her go again. Then there was the fiasco with Big Mama and Shredder, the yokai train, tangling with the Foot clan and fighting at the stadium—”

August stood up. “I’m sorry, she was at the stadium? When that maniac was threatening to wipe out the human race!?”

Splinter raised an eyebrow. “You do know who that maniac was, don’t you?”

---------

April found Casey in her bedroom—or half in, half out, leaning out the window and breathing in the night air. She could hear sharp voices carry over from the kitchen window, and distorted with only a word here or there making it through, but she recognised her mother’s voice all right, shrill with stress, and winced. Splinter had said to trusthim. She was wondering if that had been a bad call.

She sat on the window ledge next to Casey, and he jumped, smacking his head on the window frame before ducking back inside. “Commander—I mean. April. Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“To get some space?” she asked dryly.

“Well…”

Casey rubbed his head for a moment with a wince, then pulled himself inside, and April listened briefly to the yelling before she decided to resist all temptation and closed the window. She didn’t want to hear it, really. It would just make her feel awful and she’d be hearing the fallout soon enough.

“I did come out for space, and to see where the rats, uh. Came in. Or tried to? I felt—felt like it should be looked at,” Casey said awkwardly. “The eavesdropping was unintentional.”

“I believe you,” April said easily. She did. He wasn’t the type—or at least, she didn’t think so. None of them knew him too well, yet. “All quiet on the rat front?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean… evil alien rats, anyway.” He smiled a little. “I think there’s some normal ones further down.”

“Guess we’ll have to live with that.”

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the laughter coming from the living room. Her light was off, but there was enough coming in from outside that she could just catch Casey’s wistful look at the door, and April nudged him gently with a shoulder.

“You wanna go back out?”

“...in a minute. Just… getting my head in order.”

“Too busy? Too loud?” She hesitated. “Weird seeing more people you used to know?”

He jumped a little at that, turning to look at her in the gloom. “How did you—”

“Kind of obvious, Future Boy,” she said dryly. “’Nice to meet you again’?”

“Aheh.” He ducked his head. “Yeah, I guess I’m not so good on the spot. I was… trying to prepare myself for seeing them again, but it was so different once I did.”

“More of a shock than meeting those idiots again?” She gestured toward the living room.

“A little. The turtles—when they grow up, they’re a lot bigger. Sensei is so much taller! And Uncle Raph was huge.” He smiled, looking down at his hands. “And like-- you were an adult. Commander O’Neil. I knew what you would all look like from the photo, and it was kind of like… meeting you all for the first time, even though-- well. It’s complicated.”

He really wasn’t good at it, was he? Not giving things away. Sensei is taller. Raph was huge. It told her so much. It was painful, and a small part of her turned over in grief-- an empathetic grief for the kid next to her, a pang of knowing it could have been so much worse. She was so relieved she could hear Raph through the door. (...yelling “Not the gravy!” which, eugh boy, okay, she would pretend she didn’t hear that.)

Then it occurred to her what Casey was trying to say, and April froze. It didn’t mean anything. They’d avoided the whole apocalypse thing. But--

“My parents… they look the same to you?”

Casey shrugged. “Well, they’re already grown adults. They’re not gonna get another five feet taller or something weird.”

Oh. Oh, that was… she was an idiot. “Hah,” she said after a moment with a small laugh. “For a sec, I thought you meant they like... died young. Or—”

And she felt the silence change, in that dark room.

An idiot twice over—looking at the crystal stillness of Casey’s reaction to her opening her dumbass mouth, April curled up on the seat next to him and knew she’d basically tripped into a minefield. A personal one, because this wasn’t just people Casey had known and grieved.

They’re not dead. They were yelling at Splinter two rooms over, words echoing off the fire escape outside, and she tried to focus on the more rational dread that they were gonna try and stop her from seeing the guys. But…

...she couldn’t stop her stupid brain from picking over the what ifs.

Casey saved her the struggle, touching her arm gently in the dark. “Do you…” He swallowed and tried again. “You wanna hear about them? I’ve probably given you the wrong impression. Well… half of one.”

She found her voice, rough, and forced a smile. “Not if it’s gonna stress you out. Besides—” And this time she stopped herself in time, because saying it’s never gonna happen now, right? to someone who had lived those events was so cheap and awful. It had sure happened for Casey.

“I don’t mind,” he said. “Uh, if you want to know… it might. Actually help.”

Share the grief, huh. Let him not be alone with some of this.

April breathed out. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

---------

“Oh! And there was that one time when she accidentally got a job with an evil ninja organisation, but now that I think about it that was sheer bad luck...”

Carol was getting a headache. She refilled her glass, trying to sort out whether she wanted to laugh or scream or just throw a wine bottle at Lou, which definitely hadn’t featured on her list of Ways To Impress Him before she realised he was now a mutated father of four turtle boys. August had left the room, but the door to the kitchen was open and so she knew he was still listening; he was going through the bottles on the fridge perhaps a touch more violently than he needed to.

“Lou,” she said wearily, pinching the bridge of her nose, “I don’t get you. I would have thought you’d be trying to show us how safe she was with you, not—”

“Not be honest?”

She startled, glancing up to find him watching her shrewdly, and the smile that tucked into the corner of his mouth was an amused one, which made her bristle. Splinter put down his empty glass—his second glass, and he was still very sober in a way she wished she was not—and leaned forward. “Sure! I could have said, ‘Mr and Mrs O’Neil! My boys lead very boring lives! The worst scrape they’ve ever been in was an unfortunate one involving a skateboard and a cat and one too many magnets, and this alien invasion was a complete anomaly! Of course it will never happen again!’ That certainly is one way to lie to your face. I can think of more subtle attempts, but—”

“So you’re making fun of us?” August’s voice wafted from the kitchen, curt, and there was the snap-fizz sound of a fresh can of something being opened. Lord, Carol hoped it was strong and her husband was about to share. “You’re treating this whole situation with such irreverence that—”

“August.” Her voice was too sharp, and she softened it before she continued. “He’s not making fun. Maybe he’s being a bit of an ass, but—”

“I’m being a whole ass, thank you very much,” Splinter said mildly, and she pointed at him, baring her teeth.

“You are not helping. Tell me why.”

He raised his eyebrows at her in genuine curiosity. “Why be honest? Seriously?”

Carol paused, retort dying on the tip of her tongue.

Because. Because while he was telling them in the most irreverent way, it was the truth. Their lives were crazy and chaotic, and he was saying to expect nothing less. That the insanity of their lives had reached out and snagged their daughter at an early age, that—that she’d already been a target before these aliens came along. That Barry wasn’t who he said he was, had been a danger well before this and she’d been trying to introduce him to a daughter he’d apparently already kidnapped twice by that point--

Wait. That didn’t make sense.

“Barry saved April from the zombies,” she said slowly. “And reunited us. Are you saying that’s an act?”

“Good grief, no.” He tapped his empty glass and made a mournful sound, and one ear twitched back. “Much as I hate to give him any credit, Draxum is a changed goat. There is much behind his early motivations that I enthusiastically suggest you ask him about, if for no other reason than that it would be funny! But he just needed to see the bigger picture—that not all humans seek the destruction of anything they don’t understand.” He raised his eyebrows. “I am not sure if he would have come to that conclusion so quickly if it were not for your daughter. She is absolutely his favourite human, you know.”

There was a soft click as August exited the kitchen, shutting the door softly behind him. He came bearing another two bottles of wine and an opened can of Twisted Tea. Carol smiled at him, and he smiled back tiredly, a smile that faded into seriousness as he looked at Splinter. “Do you trust him?”

“With everything but money and my dignity,” Splinter said at once. “He’s a jerk, but he’s our jerk, I suppose.”

“You could have led with that.”

“I could have,” he said agreeably. They waited for him to explain further.

He didn’t.

“Okay,” Carol said finally, accepting the can from her husband and nodding as he refilled glasses all round. “So, what? You gave us a litany of horrific danger that our daughter has been involved with because…”

“Because to lie would have been extremely disrespectful, and you both seem strong enough to take the truth—oh thank you—” To August as his glass was refilled, and he snatched it up. “Of course I do not want you to separate the children. But you are both her parents, and good people, and you deserve to know all the facts so you can make a decision without any of us pretending that anything about this is normal.”

“As if it were as easy as that,” August muttered. “She’s already eighteen.”

“Well, that’s a you problem, I’m afraid.” Splinter sipped his wine. “But I’ve told you all about the disaster situations our children like to land themselves in. That’s only the ones I know of, mind you.”

“That’s so much better, thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” He cackled, offering his glass up for a toast. Carol gave him one, half-heartedly, and he favoured her with a softer smile.

“Now, I have a question for you,” he said. “How often has she come home hurt? Upset? Scared?”

August went to retort and then paused, looking thoughtful. Carol glanced between them both and frowned, thinking back. April had been hurt before… there was a sprained ankle she knew had come from an accident at school. A few minor bruises from early scraps with that girl with the purple hair. Nothing she wouldn’t expect from an outspoken teenage girl who picked fights with bullies.

Nothing that had raised alarms, until now. Until April’s poor face, bruising turning her skin even darker, coated in dust with blood in her hair, because aliens had attacked them directly. Because Agent Bishop had set them up as bait, which was a fault that could be laid at his doorstep, not the Hamatos’.

It took an alien invasion.

“I cannot make promises about how safe she will be. How safe any of them will be.” Splinter spoke gently now, drawing circles around the rim of his glass with a claw. He glanced up to meet their gaze. “Chaos magnet teenagers, the lot of them. But I will tell you that she is their big sister, and they would never let anything happen to her. And I will protect my family with everything I have. All of them.” He paused, then flashed a small smile. “It turns out I don’t do too bad a job!”

“All things being equal, you said,” Carol murmured.

“Yes, well. One would hope we don’t have to deal with anything as ridiculous as alien invasions again.” Splinter made a face. “They’re so exhausting! Barring city-destroying events, I truly think your daughter is safer than the average teenage girl. And I swear, large amounts of time go past in which the most exciting thing to happen is we’re late returning a DVD to the store, or the pizza order is wrong.” He paused. “...actually, that second one is generally a cause for alarm—”

Carol snorted in amusement, and she was relieved to see a faint smile on August’s face as well. “So. Family, huh?”

“Er, well. I know she already has a father and all,” Splinter muttered. “Just think of me as, I don’t know, cool wine uncle Randall.”

“Randall?”

“Oh, and while you are considering what to do—” Splinter put his hands together. “Please take into account that we would miss her a great deal. But also, she is the intelligent one. I would appreciate it if you did not remove the brain cell from my boys…?”

Carol grinned outright. “I’m sorry, are you sure you know my daughter that well? Because—”

---------

Carol O’Neil died when Casey was seven.

“There weren’t a lot of kids on base,” he said. “I mean-- there were bunkers, and civilians and their families mostly hid there, all through the cave systems below us… but for kids whose parents were active soldiers and had no one else-- I think there was maybe four of us all up. My mom and yours knew each other pretty well. Mrs O’Neil gave her a lot of advice about kids. I mean, my mom was your age, so…” He paused, staring into the darkness for a long moment with a mild frown. “You guys were friends, too. A long time ago.”

“Your mom and me?” April asked tentatively.

“Yeah. So I got to see you guys a lot as a kid. You worked out in the field more with my mom, and you’d both come back after days on end and mom would demand reports from the playroom and you’d laugh at her.” He grinned at her in the gloom. “But I’d see Mrs O’Neil a lot more because she stayed at base. I think she did a lot of behind the scenes stuff—I was too young to really get it. But I know she looked after us, too, and made sure we ate and got clean and slept safely. Ran drills for us on what to do if we were attacked. Where to run, where to hide. That kinda thing.”

Wonderful way for a kid to grow up. She gave him a small smile. “Mom does like to boss people around. She’s real nice about it, though.”

“Yeah, she is. And she’s, uh. Fierce when threatened.”

And a mama bear through and through. The Krang tried to take out the base while diverting most of the resistance fighters to another location, and they had to run. And Carol had made them go first and put herself between a bunch of scared kids and a pack of Krang war dogs. Casey didn’t see it happen. But he heard it, on the other side of the heavy trap door, too small to really understand what was going on, huddling with three other kids in the corner of the tiny secret basement.

He spared April the details. Her imagination had no problem filling them in for him, and April curled her knees up to her chest, wishing she couldn’t see it so clearly. A sick feeling curled in her gut, and she tried to remind herself her parents were still two rooms over with Splinter, but--

“It was a bad day for… everyone,” he said slowly. “The Krang hit us hard on two fronts, and we lost a lot of people that day. Including—” He broke off, and winced. “Well. Sensei and Master Donatello were the ones that pulled the survivors out, and I don’t remember much following. But I know the base was trashed and we had to move. That… happened, sometimes. Less as time went on.”

So her mom was a casualty among… dozens? Hundreds? More? She had trouble wrapping her head around the numbers and, if she were being honest, April didn’t want to think too hard about it. It was awful enough as it was. There was an odd, terrible relief that her mom hadn’t been singled out somehow. Because she’d seen what the Krang liked to do when they hated someone personally.

It was still a horrible way to die.

(There were no good ways to die in an apocalypse, huh?)

“You okay?”

She blinked, and found Casey much closer than he’d been a moment ago, hovering in concern, and April unclenched her fingers from each other and gave him a wan smile. “Hey, I knew going in it wouldn’t be pretty. I’m more worried about you.”

“You don’t need to be,” he said softly. “This was a long time ago.”

“Time doesn’t magically make things better.”

“I guess not,” he murmured. “But I grew up with this story. This is the first time you’ve heard it.” And he sounded so apologetic about it that she patted his shoulder.

“S’okay, Future Boy. I appreciate knowing. My mom was a total badass to the end, right?”

His smile was hesitant, but there all the same. “Right.”

She took a breath. “So, in for a penny, blah blah blah. If you’re up for it…?”

“...yeah.”

“Dad… did he outlive Mom?”

“By a whole lot.” His smile faded. “I really didn’t know him much until after Mrs O’Neil passed. And then he was kind of everywhere. He threw himself right into intelligence support, and he was so good at it—his strength was logistics and efficiency of movement on a mass scale, and we were still struggling with organisation, so… he and Master Donatello worked together a lot. He wasn’t a fighter, your dad, not like your mom. But he knew his stuff, and I know a lot of his ideas helped keep our home safe and our supply lines going as long as possible. He worked way too much—you came to drag him back to his room so many times.”

Wow. Was it weird to feel proud of her future and now non-existent dad? She hoped he’d never have to go through something similar. August was generally a laid back, quieter guy who enjoyed his trains and ships as hobbies.

That he’d weaponised his knowledge was amazing, but also heartbreaking. April could read between the lines just fine—he buried himself in work because Mom was dead.

“I can’t tell you exactly how he...uh.” Casey bit his lip. “We were always kind of awkward around each other. I think because of Mrs O’Neil. So I kept my distance.”

April frowned. “He can’t possibly have blamed you kids for Mom’s death. I’ll kick his ass. I’ll march right into the kitchen now--”

That surprised a laugh out of him. “No! No, I don’t think he did. But… you know. She died, and we were there. I think… it was just a reminder. And every time I saw him, I’d remember her too, and it just—it was like this presence in the room, I guess. By the time both of us got around to being rational about it, things were just weird. And I wasn’t really a logistics guy and had other places to be, so… we just let things go.”

She wondered what had happened to the other kids. The answer was obvious, given… well, everything. April kept her mouth shut and let Casey tell her the rest: that, actually, her Dad had survived up until the last days before Casey was thrown through Mikey’s time portal. That it was only when they were close to a full rout that he finally fell, along with the rest of the base personnel. That, as far as Casey knew, April had been with him when he died.

And by the clipped, hesitant way he spoke, constantly glancing to her as he paused and searched for words—giving her this heavily edited version, trying not to give her any other information—April could gather that she’d probably died at the same time.

That they all had, maybe. With the base down, and the guys choosing to send Casey back more than twenty years instead of continuing to fight…? That was some Terminator shit right there. Only this time, the good guys were the ones that lost. That wasn’t exactly a surprise; it had been kind of obvious since Casey first arrived. Time travel was a last resort kind of option.

In the future, they all died.

April wished that changing the future would wipe the slate clean for Casey, too. For the rest of them, it was a case of Hooray! Disaster averted! and they could be relieved that none of this would ever happen. But it had, for one of them. She wondered how he was going to cope with that.

“...sorry.”

Annnd he was apologising to her again. April wrinkled her nose—gingerly, it was still healing, stupid Krang—and flicked him on the forehead, smiling grimly at his yelp. “Casey Jones, I’m fine. Is this why you didn’t want to meet my parents?”

Casey blinked at her owlishly in the dark, and then pulled back, looking guilty. “What? N-no, I did, I swear—”

“Lemme put it another way,” she said, taking pity on him. This kid still took everything so seriously. But, you know. Justified and all. “Is this why you were so nervous about it?” More ninja than the guys, hiding in the one gloomy patch of hallway and trying to be invisible. But he could probably have gotten away with not coming for any number of reasons, so the fact that he was willing to try…

“...a little,” he allowed after a moment. “I mean—I know it’s dumb. Your parents—your dad has never met me in this time. But I kept thinking he’d take one look at me and just kind of… know.” He paused, then ran hand through his hair sheepishly. “Not very rational, I guess.”

April smiled. “Nah. But it still makes sense. And you made it through dinner okay, right?”

“Yeah.” He smiled back. “Your parents are really nice. I can tell the guys like them, too.”

“Don’t remind me. They’re threatening to adopt.”

“...does it work that way in the past?”

She couldn’t help the snort of laughter at his genuine confusion. “Oh, man. We so have to give you a crash course in literally everything, don’t we.”

“Probably,” he said wryly. And paused again, before sighing. “Also, I think they finally worked out we’re not in the living room anymore.”

April blinked at him, and then turned toward the door—and yeah, it had gone suspiciously quiet out there. She put a finger to her lips, grinning at Casey, and reached down for her Journalism and Media Studies text book.

Then she threw it at the door hard and burst into laughter at the girlish shriek that came from the other side. Even Casey gave a soft huff of amusement as the door was flung open a moment later by Donnie, Mikey sprawled on the ground behind him.

“See,” Raph grumbled in the distance, “I told you guys—”

“April O’Neil,” Donnie demanded, “Are you throwing books at us?”

“It’s the outdated thing they gave us in class that you found the newer edition of.”

“In that case, carry on.”

“Don’t carry on,” Mikey wheezed, rolling up to his feet. “Books are scary.” And he dropped his voice to a stage whisper. “Also, Leo is asleeep.”

Oh, whoops. April glanced at the sofa, where Leo’s hood and red stripes could just be seen under the comforter, Raph sitting in front of him and polishing off the last of Leo’s food. She lowered her own voice to something more reasonable. “Then you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.”

“Of course we were!” Donnie proclaimed, arms folded. Then winced. “--n’t. Weren’t eavesdropping. Don’t be ridiculous, we were merely concerned that you had run into emotional difficulties of some—” Mikey smacked him in the shoulder. “I mean. Eaten by rats. Because rats. Are a thing in these parts. Zombie rats. They could still be here.”

“Uh huh.” She folded her arms. “Casey?”

He honest to god saluted her with a perfectly straight face. “No rats in the apartment, Commander. Could be a liar or two, though.”

Raph snorted, choking on his mouthful of beef as Donnie gaped at them. Mikey planted his face on Donnie’s shell and gave a muffled giggle. “Someone tell Casey the house rules—”

“We have house rules now?” April wanted to know.

“Uhh, something something don’t be funny while people are eating?” Donnie suggested. “You nearly killed Raph.”

Raph pointed in their general direction but said nothing, still coughing.

“That’s not a house rule. That’s something you came up with to get Leo to shut up and eat.”

“In our defense, his puns are very painful,” Donnie noted. “Also, how long has he been Dumbonardo in your phone?”

“My—” She glanced down to see her phone in his hand, and April snatched it back. “Give me that.”

“I was updating it for you.”

“With what?”

“Answer the question and I’ll answer yours.”

She glared, but after poking at her phone to make sure he hadn’t put Yet Another Firewall on it, April gave a shrug. “Since the invasion.”

“Hmm. Some might say I am required to speak in my beloved brother’s defense, but I merely question why you didn’t do it earlier.”

Raph finally found his voice, still pointing. “Don’t use Raph as an excuse. Also Leo went to sleep, like, five minutes ago—you sure you wanna be roasting him like this?”

“It’s a night for roasts,” Mikey said sagely. “Speaking of, d’you think we can stick a fork in Dad and call him done yet?”

“I don’t know,” Splinter said from behind the couch. “Can you?”

They all yelped and jumped away from him—with the exception of Leo, who let out a small snore, and Casey, who just lifted a hand and waved. Splinter beamed at them and continued picking his teeth clean with a nail which, ew. April made a face. “When did you get in here?”

“A good ninja never reveals his secrets.”

“Oh, so you’re going to tell us everything—”

Splinter’s tail cracked into Donnie’s head, and April cackled, flopping into the armchair as he waved a finger. “The O’Neils will be in shortly! I came to warn you in advance so you can repair all the damage you’ve done.”

“Huh?” Raph’s brow furrowed. “What damage? If you’re talking about the gravy, we dealt with that—”

“There was no gravy,” Donnie said swiftly, and April immediately started scanning the cushions and the carpeting with dread. “It’s all in your imagination.”

“Who cares about gravy?” Splinter hissed, flailing his arms in dramatic outrage. “What about what you’ve done to the walls?”

They stared back at him in disbelief.

“Okay, first of all, that wasn’t us,” Donnie said, voice flat. “Second, I admire your faith that we can somehow put the walls back to rights in the moments we have before the O’Neils descend upon us with whatever imagined wrath you think we deserve—”

April raised a hand, sighing. “In light of Leo being asleep, let me be the one to tell you that was totally Draxum, and the walls were like that before you guys arrived.”

“Draxum, you say?” Splinter said gleefully. “I mean—oh no, your poor walls.”

“Hey, he did it saving April!” Mikey defended.

“Yeah, he’s off the hook for that one,” Raph said, ruffling Mikey’s mask tails. “You can blame him for a lot of things, but—”

“I’m sorry,” Draxum drawled, towering behind Raph suddenly. “What am I being blamed for now?”

They all yelped and scrambled in the opposite direction. Except for Casey, who waved again, and Leo, whose snoring took on a more stubborn sound, and April eyed him suspiciously. Draxum loomed over them all, dressed in a surprisingly nice kimono, its stylishness ruined somewhat by the traces of chocolate staining its sleeve, and he was holding a tray that was…

...gurgling. Huh.

Splinter recovered first. “Everything I can possibly get away with, and surprise ninja entrances are my thing! Get your own!”

Draxum raised an eyebrow. “Surprise ninja entrances? I walked through the door. Perhaps your supposed ninja family needs more training in observation.”

April glanced behind him to see that, yes, the door to the kitchen was open, and Carol was leaning against the frame watching them all. She caught April’s stare and grinned, offering her a wink.

And April relaxed. Whatever her parents had talked about with Splinter, it had turned out okay.

Draxum eyed them a moment longer, then gave a disdainful sniff and set the tray down on the coffee table. It was full of brown, bubbling and uneven sludge, and an attempt to slice it into squares had clearly been made before the pieces melted back together again. They surrounded it and eyed it dubiously.

“Brownies,” Draxum said proudly. “I grew them myself.”

Mikey peered at him. “Don’t you mean baked—”

“I said what I said.”

There was silence as they all stared down at what, honestly, looked a little like a horror story. Like a village buried under a sudden mud slide, maybe. The lumpiness did remind April a little of tiny drowning people, and the fact that it was still bubbling didn’t help.

It did smell delicious, though--

“Who would like to try one first?” Draxum asked. “Carol? As host—”

“Oh,” Carol said cheerfully. “As host, I’ll… find you some plates.” And she was gone with a speediness that April envied. She wondered if she could somehow vanish through the same doorway without being noticed.

“I’ll pass,” Casey said, raising a hand, and he looked sincerely apologetic. “I’m still meant to stick to a simple diet, and I think your brownies are too… rich?”

Nice save. April felt a little bad for Draxum as he looked around with confusion and frowned. “I promise you they taste just fine.”

“Did you follow my recipe?” Mikey asked weakly.

“I improved on your recipe—”

“I’ll go first,” Raph said, face dark and slamming a fist into his open palm. “I’ve eaten weirder.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.” Donnie was on his phone. “I am not eating anything that looks like a crime scene. Tampering with evidence is a no-no.”

Mikey peered at him. “That’s not what you said at the college labs—”

“You’re all babies.” Raph rolled up the sleeves of his jacket, wincing slightly as the holes at his elbows grew a little bigger. “I bet it’ll taste great and you should all give Barry the benefit of the doubt.”

“Thank you,” Draxum said with a sniff. “I tasted them myself and I am in perfectly good health. I don’t know why all of you are such cowards when it comes to yokai cooking.”

“Raph ain’t no coward.” Yet despite this, he hovered over the tray for a long time, fingers wiggling as if he wasn’t sure what to grab, and April watched the drop of sweat roll down his cheek. Everyone watched him in silence. Except for Donnie, who was humming. April thought it might be a dirge of some kind.

Another green hand reached out and stabbed a finger down into the tray, twirling a pile of warm goop around it, and they jumped. Leo stuck it into his mouth, eyes still half closed.

“Uh—”

“Sensei—”

“Nardo, don’t swallow that—”

“Oh, sweet pineapple on pizza,” Leo breathed, eyes flying open. “This is amazing. Who made this?”

There was dead silence. And then everyone pointed to Draxum. Leo blinked at him, wrinkled his snout, and snuggled back into his pile of comforters. “Oh, that’s right. Well, whatever, can’t win ‘em all. Can I have a plate?”

“Wait,” Donnie said, disbelieving. “You’re serious? You’re not just trying to trick us all into food poisoning?”

“You don’t wanna eat any, Dontron, it’s more for me.”

“Well, not that I doubt you...” Donnie squinted at the plate. “But brownies are meant to have a certain internal consistency. If you can twirl it around your finger I feel they should be classified as something more liquid—”

“Save me from picky eaters,” Draxum said, rolling his eyes. “If you wait a little longer I’m sure they’ll set.”

“They’re meant to set before you serve them, Barry—”

Mikey crossed his arms. “Hey, he tried! And therefore nobody should criticise him!”

“Oh, I think we can find plenty to criticise,” Splinter said, dabbing chocolate goop away from his mouth, and April gave a start and wondered when he’d managed that theft. “But I suppose in this case the brownies are exempt. I hate to say it, but they are delicious. In a strangely muddy kind of way.”

“Oh, nobody died?” Carol had reappeared, holding a stack of small plates. “I brought spoons as well, given their… unique texture. We can call it pudding instead of brownies, right?”

“But I made brownies,” Draxum said sulkily.

“Special recipe yokai brownies,” she said with a dry smile. “Clearly we poor humans don’t recognise quality when we see it.”

“Well, seeing as you brought it up—”

April stomped on his foot. Hard. Which probably hurt her more than it hurt him, given he had hooves and he merely gave her a blank look, but it did shut him up.

“Everyone stop arguing about dessert and eat it already,” Leo said, yawning. “Mrs O, dinner was delicious. I don’t know if I said that before, so…”

That prompted a general round of agreement, and she smiled at them, handing out the plates. “You’re very welcome. Maybe when you’re feeling better, we can do this again, huh?”

Splinter perked up. “You mean like a traditional Sunday dinner?”

“Not every Sunday,” August said, finally entering with a tray of glasses. “I’m not sure our poor apartment can take it. I heard something about gravy?”

“There is no gravy.”

“Oh, glad to hear it. Drinks, anyone?”

A chorus of hands shot up.

“I think there’s enough room for all of us,” Carol said, pointedly flopping down on the ground by April’s chair. “You guys haven’t picked a movie out yet. Anything in particular?”

“Do you have any Jupiter Jim?” Leo said, peering over his comforter.

“Who cares about Jupiter Jerkface.” Splinter huffed. “I happen to know they have the entire collection of Lou Jitsu’s hidden 80s gems—”

“We are not watching Lou Jitsu movies.” Draxum paused between serving up his pudding-slash-brownies onto plates to give him a disdainful look. “We already have to look at you enough today.”

“You only just arrived with faulty brownies, you don’t get a say—”

“My delicious brownies. Even the annoying one thinks so.”

“Don’t drag me into this, I’m horribly injured.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Anyway,” Mikey said determinedly, stuffing Leo’s mouth full of chocolate before he could retort, “That’s one vote for Jupiter Jer—Jim and like minus five for Lou Jitsu—”

“How dare you!” Splinter gasped. “The lack of respect!”

“Lou Jitsu’s ‘hidden 80s gems’ are uncut and not for children,” Carol said firmly. “Don’t scar them.”

“What do you mean—” Donnie paused, and then went a fascinating shade of grey as April hid her face. “Oh. Never mind.”

“I haven’t seen much of the Jupiter Jim franchise, actually,” August said thoughtfully. “Are they any good?”

“Actually,” Casey said, raising a hand with a hesitant smile, “I haven’t seen any. For, uh… obvious reasons..?”

There was silence as everyone stared at the two of them.

Then Leo reached out and smacked Donnie in the arm, making garbled sounds through his mouthful of chocolate sludge, and Donnie sighed. “Translating for my dum-dum brother here, I believe he wants me to say ‘Well, now we have to watch them. From the beginning.’”

“We don’t own any of them, though—”

“That is not a problem, believe me.” Donnie produced his tablet from out of thin air. “April? May I borrow your laptop?”

“You got it, Dee.” She wriggled out of the chair and scrambled past them to her room, cackling as Splinter stopped grumbling and snatched up a plate, perching on the far arm of Leo’s sofa. By the time she returned, dad had pulled in a chair from the kitchen to sit on and the rest were mostly lounging on the floor with what spare cushions they had, and Donnie was perched in an unlikely sprawl across the back of the sofa, setting up the connections they’d need.

“Okay!” Donnie straightened up as she handed him her laptop. “Given there are more than eighty films in the franchise we will clearly start with just the one, so let’s go for one of the more iconic for new viewers and take bets on how long it takes Nardo to fall asleep again—”

“Hey,” Leo protested sleepily. “Rude. I wanna watch people watching JJ.”

“Again, skill issue. I suppose we can ask April to throw more text books—”

“I know who I’m gonna throw ‘em at if I do.”

“—but books are sacred and should not be treated that way. I give him five minutes.”

“Eight,” Carol said mildly.

“Mom!”

“Oh no, Raph is not losin’ another Leo bet. I give him three minutes, look at him, he’s already yawnin’—”

“You’re all jerks.”

“Shush, Leo, or I’ll rig the bet in my favour. You will not like my methods.”

“Dad, Donnie’s threatening me again.”

“Be quiet and go to sleep! Preferably after four minutes.”

“You’re all gonna lose,” Mikey sing-songed. “Leo loves these movies. I’ll give him a full half hour.”

“Thank you, Miguel, but also you’re still a jerk.”

“I love you too.”

“Shh, shh-- the movie’s starting.”

“Shh.”

“Ssh!”

April’s phone buzzed as her dad got the lights, and she blinked down at it.

Donnie: >> I updated your panic button. For all your potential home invasion needs. If we can’t answer, it’ll summon a drone. No more zombies. Share it with parents?

Oh… right. The update. April smiled, and offered him a thumbs up in the dark as the movie started. She’d have to break the news to her parents that they were adopted after all.

Her chair hadn’t been stolen, which was nice of them. She settled back into it, and Carol glanced up at her with a small smile.

“Okay?” April whispered.

“More than,” Carol whispered back.

And...okay. Good. Great. Something in her settled into pure warmth and she curled her knees up to her chest, glancing at her dad. He smiled and gave her a quick nod. Two for two.

It was gonna be more than okay. From here, it was gonna be amazing.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #nekotsuki #no rest for the weary #(adjacent)#this probably has terrible pacing THEY WOULD NOT SHUT UP #super long post

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