Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

2 am study sessions in Eastlaird’s library were starting to become a little more than a habit for you. Hell, you probably spent more time there than at your dorm.

(Where you should be, sleeping and cozied up on your bunk bed.)

You rubbed your eyes in exhaustion. You only had a few more paragraphs of your lab write-up to do and a chapter to read for your Engineering in Medical Applications lecture before you could leave. It was getting to the point of the night that you considered quitting just to get a few hours of sleep before your first lecture tomorrow… or today, rather.

You groaned, fully putting your face in your hands. Yeah, fuck the lab. Finishing it tonight just wasn’t happening. You resolved to just skim over your textbook so you weren’t totally lost during the discussion tomorrow. 

Sighing deeply, you reached for your textbook when you saw a… metal claw inching towards it? You would’ve fully believed that you were hallucinating if you didn’t watch the claw snatch your textbook right from underneath your hands. 

“Hey, I need that!” you yelled. You followed along the arm of the claw before your eyes came to focus on a dark figure in a purple hoodie.

You seemed to have spooked the figure for a moment. They froze, staring at you for a single breath before they turned around and started sprinting from you.

God, you were tired. But there was no way in hell that you were about to find yourself a victim of some engineering frat’s antics. 

“Man, they’re really leveling up their recruits this year,” you muttered to yourself. You took off running after them, nearly barreling into the wall as they rounded the corner. They knocked over the cart for book returns to cut off your path. You attempted jumping over it, but your foot just barely caught on the top handle off the cart. You landed face first into the ground with a thud. Purple looked back and snickered at you. Their face was still hidden, but you imagined them sticking their tongue at you.

Ain’t no way. 

You grabbed one of the fallen books and threw it along the ground. Going, going and–

Purple stepped right onto the book and fell backwards, letting out a soft squeak as they fell. You seized this as a chance to run over and grab the book from them. They attempted grabbing you with the metal claws, but you batted them away as you tried to wrestle them from Purple’s hands. 

“I don’t know what frat you’re rushing for, but if you take off with my textbook I will seriously burn down your entire chapter,” you grunted. You had one leg pushing against their chest and were using both hands to pull the book away from them. 

“Scoff, as if I would degrade myself as to joining an organization such as a fraternity,” Purple finally spoke. He spoke with an accent that you couldn’t place. He apparently decided he had enough wrestling and used his mechanical arms to grab you by the shoulders, lifting you into the air. You clutched your textbook to your chest. He stood back up and brushed the dust off his hoodie.

“Now, if you please, I have a very important project that I need that textbook for, so hand it over,” Purple demanded.

You scoffed in disbelief. “I spent $250 on this textbook, I am not about to hand it over to some weirdo who stole from me!”

Purple tilted his head at you. “It’s a library, you don’t buy books at a library.”

You just blinked at this weirdo for a second. He was definitely a mechie. You sighed, holding the book out in front of you.

Purple stepped closer, “Now was that so–”

You took your closer proximity as an advantage, swinging your legs up and landing your right leg on his shoulder. You pushed down with your right leg, throwing a kick up his chin with your left and pulling yourself into a backflip, releasing yourself from his clutches in one smooth motion. 

You didn’t quite stick the landing, stumbling a bit, but by golly you would’ve made any diving instructor proud. 

Purple teetered a little bit, murmuring something about Newton and Hawking before toppling over. 

Well, shit. 

That was maybe a bit more impactful than you had planned. You rushed over to him, pulling off his hood so you could see if you had concussed him. It took you a moment to register his ninja mask and… green skin? Before you could even process that information, he suddenly rose to get up.

“Oh Papa! I believe I may be a bit late this evening,” he said, cheerily, and immediately falling back down. You just barely caught him before he hit the ground.

Well, shit.

—

Okay, so most sane people wouldn’t have carried an unconscious mutant into their dorm room in the dead of night. But then again, most sane people weren’t doing lab reports past midnight, so.

You placed him in your bean bag chair, wheezing from the exertion of carrying almost six feet of mutant turtle across campus. You thanked the gods above that your roommate was out of town for the week. 

There was absolutely no way that you were going to be able to sleep while Purple was passed out in your dorm, so you relented to your academia demons and pulled your laptop out to finish your lab report. You guess-timated that there was a 35% chance you wouldn’t make it to your classes tomorrow, but there was no reason why you shouldn’t have your work done. 

(You wondered briefly if your professors would take "got attacked by a giant reptile" as a good enough excuse for an extension.)

It took finishing up approximately three paragraphs for you to start dozing off at your desk. You were almost ready to leave all caution to the wind and go to bed until you heard the tell-tale squeak of your dorm floors behind you. 

Purple was awake, finally, and trying to make his escape with your book in his grubby, thieving hands. 

You took advantage of his surprise and booked it to your door. You blocked his exit, covering the handle with your body. 

“If you steal my book I swear to God I will knock you out again,” you threatened. Purple had a few inches on you, but he still looked a little unsteady on his feet.

“I promise the library will have its property back in due time, I just need this for–”

“It’s not the library’s! It’s my personal property, you doofus!” you yelled at him. You took a few breaths to calm yourself before starting again. “Look in the front cover, I wrote my name like five million times on it. Do I need to show you my ID for you to verify?” 

The mutant looked like he wanted to say yes, but thought otherwise of it. You sighed.

“Dude, just pirate the damn thing online if you need the information so bad, there’s no need to burglarize random kids on campus.”

“I, uh,” Purple rubbed the back of his neck. (Did he always have three fingers? What was this guy?) “I have ocular issues when it comes to reading on screens, in order for me to do my project effectively it requires that I have a physical copy.”

Oh, well…that’s a bit more reasonable than you expected. 

God damnit. 

You sighed deeply, holding out your hand. 

“Give me your phone.”

Purple looked at you like you’ve grown a second head. “Why on Earth would I do that?”

“So I can text you to get my book back after I let you borrow it,” you stated, holding your hand out. He eyed you suspiciously. “Look, I don’t have any ‘ocular issues’, but I need the codes in the textbook for my quizzes. I can get by with a pdf for now, I just need my book back eventually.”

He kept staring at you.

“Dude, look,” You waved your other hand at him, showing your prosthetic pinky and ring finger, “I get having physical drawbacks, it’s fine, but I’m seriously going to take back my offer and kick you out if you don’t agree.”

He continued giving you that dirty look but relented and placed his phone in your hand. You added your contact info to his phone and sent yourself a quick text. You handed his phone back, offering your now free hand to shake.

“Pleasure doing business with you…?”

“Donatello,” he said while grasping your hand, “but most people call me Donnie.”

“Pleasure doing business with you, Donnie,” you said, “...sorry about knocking you out in the library.”

“For the purposes of this transaction, let’s not mention that again.”

—

QuarkedUp: So I’m assuming you’re a Yokai

QuarkedUp: What flavor are you?

BootyShaker9000: Excuse me?

QuarkedUp: I was gonna send you a frog meme but I didn’t want to offend you if you were like a salamander or something

BootyShaker9000: The purpose of exchanging numbers was not for engaging in banter or meme trades.

QuarkedUp: I bet you’re a meme stealer

QuarkedUp: a meme-stealing salamander

BootyShaker9000: I beg you to not.

QuarkedUp: I bet you remove watermarks and pass off memes as your own, contributing to the very real and illegal counterfeit meme trade

BootyShaker9000: There is nothing beyond common decency that is holding me to returning your textbook.

QuarkedUp sent a link

BootyShaker9000: What is that?

QuarkedUp: Your IP address, home address, last five recently used emails and passwords, etc

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

BootyShaker9000: If you wish to play that game.

QuarkedUp: …

QuarkedUp: Touche

QuarkedUp: anyways

QuarkedUp: I have a quiz this friday that I need my textbook for, if you would be so kind

BootyShaker9000: I will drop it off. 

BootyShaker9000: And if you must know, I am a turtle of the spiny, soft-shell variety.

QuarkedUp: Cool, cool

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: I despise you. 

—

QuarkedUp: do you like quantum physics

BootyShaker9000: Naturally.

QuarkedUp: Oh good, watch this

QuarkedUp sent a link

BootyShaker9000: That was excellent.

QuarkedUp: oh I know

QuarkedUp: Also quiz this friday

BootyShaker9000: Noted. 

—

QuarkedUp: hey did you know that soft-shelled turtles are considered “the best eatin turtles”

QuarkedUp sent a link

BootyShaker9000: I am unsure whether or not this is a threat.

QuarkedUp: consider it a friendly exchange of information amongst pals :D 

BootyShaker9000: …I could always block you and never return your textbook.

QuarkedUp: and i could always bust out the cajun seasoning. we all have choices to make, donnie my boy

QuarkedUp: Also quiz friday

BootyShaker9000: Roger that. 

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a link.

BootyShaker9000: Chemistry is an inferior science.

QuarkedUp: Incorrect.

QuarkedUp: Why are you sending me o-chem stuff

BootyShaker9000: You’re a chemistry person and I have chemistry questions.

BootyShaker9000: Tell me why my reaction isn’t creating the right products.

QuarkedUp: I’m your resident Biomedical Engineering Major with a Neuroscience minor, the chemistry majors will eat my ass if they hear you conflating us.

QuarkedUp: but yeah give me a second, I’ll pull out my textbook

QuarkedUp called BootyShaker9000 for 43 minutes.

—

BootyShaker9000: I thought the LDA pathway would produce the same results as the NaH synthesis route?

QuarkedUp: It should?

QuarkedUp: is your reaction temperature controlled, in a vacuum, etc?

QuarkedUp: LDA is super temperamental to work with

BootyShaker9000: Gah.

BootyShaker9000: Chemistry is an inferior field.

QuarkedUp: You cant keep dogging on chemistry and then asking me questions for your problems

BootyShaker9000: I think you’ll find that I will do whatever I want.

QuarkedUp: You’re such a dickhead

BootyShaker9000: And you like the worst science.

“Okay you know what?” You said the moment Donnie picked up the phone, “Maybe you would appreciate chemistry more if you didn’t suck at it.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t, quote unquote, ‘suck at it’, if it had any significant application to my work,” Donnie quipped back.

“It’s significant enough you have to ask me about it every two days,” you said.

It had been a… weird month, to say the least. It wasn’t in your ten-year plan to befriend any mutants, much less a giant turtle that bullies you for your music taste and makes fun of your degree. 

Donnie swings by your dorm every Friday to return your textbook so you can take your quizzes. Initially he would leave and come back when you were done, but the last few times he settled himself in your room, taking residence on your bunk bed and typing away on a laptop while you worked away at your desk. 

(He said that it was too much of a hassle to leave and come back after two hours. You suspected that you were growing on him.)

“I really hate to break it to you, but the study of biomedical engineering does, in fact, require mad chemistry skills,” you said, walking your way across campus to the physics building. “It doesn’t matter how good you are at building stuff, you can’t circumvent chemistry with machinery.”

Donnie had been texting you the whole week complaining about chemistry in regards to his “super secret project’. You would’ve let it go, but come on. Chemistry was your jam.

(Honestly, if you weren’t so dead set on building prosthetics, you might’ve been a chem major in another life.)

“Oh no, what a startling revelation. Maybe it is time for me to abandon my project and move onto greener pastures, such as underwater basket weaving or back up dancing.”

You snorted. “Am I finally free from your green ass haunting my dorm then?”

“My ‘green ass’,” he quoted back at you, “only interacts with you out of obligation. Once I figure out the section on electricity and synapses, I am out of your hair.”

“Oh chapter 14? We’re just about to start on that in class this week,” you said. Your roommate, May, entered your dorm, wiggling her eyebrows at you when she saw you were on the phone. She was convinced you had a boyfriend, considering you were so quick to kick her out at the same time every week. 

Honestly, anything to keep her from realizing a mutant was climbing in through the windows. After the Kraang invasion, public opinions of Yokai started to become more positive. You just didn’t want to take a chance on finding out your dear roomie was a bigot. (Or your RA… That would be a different problem.)

“Oh?” Donnie said, snapping you back from your thoughts, “Around what time might this lecture be?”

You squinted your eyes at your phone.

“Are you asking to come to my class with me?”

“Would that be possible?” he asked. Technically? Yes, you figured. Your professor was pretty lax about most things, he probably wouldn’t mind Donnie sitting in on a few classes. 

(Ugh. You’d email your prof later asking for permission, you’d decided.)

“Yes, but only if you buy me a coffee,” you said.

“Why does everything have to be a business deal with you?”

“Is that a no?”

“No, it’s a deal,” Donnie relented, “But I will be judging you harshly based upon your coffee order.”

“Oh my, how different from our usual interactions,” you deadpanned, “Meet me at the front entrance of my dorm at 10 am tomorrow, I’ll walk you over to the engineering building.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he said, ending the call. 

You smiled and shook your head at your phone. Donnie, being a giant turtle notwithstanding, was so… strange . At the very least, different than most people you’ve ever interacted with. No matter how easily the two of you seemed to rile each other up, you’re ending up spending more and more time together.

You decided to pack up your schoolwork and head to the library to avoid your roommate questioning you. It was getting harder to get her to accept your non-answers about Donnie.

You left your dorm as silently as you could while smiling to yourself, wondering about what the next day would have in store for you. 

Chapter Text

You stood outside of your dorm a little bit before 10, waiting for Donnie to arrive. You were listening to your playlist of the month while you waited, thoughtlessly moving songs around in the queue. (It really was time to make a new playlist, you were starting to become bored with your recent picks.)

You pondered about what artists would make the cut this month when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“Can I help you?” you said, turning around and taking off your headphones.

Holy shit, you thought, taking in one of the most attractive people you’ve ever seen. He was wearing a purple bandana that was covering his shoulder length locs. He had on those dorky circle wire frames that did nothing but accentuate how sharp his jawline was. The silver of his glasses juxtaposed with his dark skin and even darker freckles that dotted the upper parts of his cheeks.

It wasn’t until you took in his purple hoodie that you had an inkling about who this might be.

“I do believe that I owe you a cup of coffee,” Donnie said. He quirked a smile at your obvious distress and confusion and struck an obnoxious pose. 

“So what do we think about my new cloaking device?” he said, flexing his arms. You facepalmed, feeling your face grow hot.

Of course it was Donnie. You truly were God’s favorite little plaything.

“I have so many questions and desire no answers,” you said. You grabbed his wrist, interrupting his posing, and started to drag him off to the campus café. “I demand the largest size they have if I’m gonna get through today.”

“Hey, you could at least say I look nice!” Donnie protested. 

“I look nice.”

“...touché.”

–

You didn’t end up breaking Donnie’s bank when ordering your coffee, but you did make him splurge on oatmilk for you.

“It’s not even milk at that point!” Donnie protested, “It’s just oat juice!”

“Are you or are you not the same person whose favorite beverage is ‘flavorless juice’?”

“That’s not even remotely related to this conversation.”

“Oh yes it is.”

The two of you playfully bickered while sipping your matching mochas on the way to class. (You had honestly pegged him as a black coffee type of guy. Turns out Donnie may have a soul after all.)

Wednesday mornings usually had you riding solo, as May was out of the dorm way before you'd even woken up. It was nice getting to walk with someone for a change. Donnie looked beside himself with glee as you let him through your campus, especially when the two of you entered the engineering building. You nearly had to drag him away from looking in the windows of the laser lab the physics department had just started up.

"You can look later," you hissed at him, trying to not make a scene, "class starts in like three minutes, we gotta go."

"Alas, my love, we shall be reunited again," Donnie said, stroking the glass pane one more time before following behind you. You rolled your eyes at him, trusting Donnie to stay close while you walked into the lecture hall.

“So, your glasses, are those a part of the cloaking device as well?” you asked Donnie while leading him to your usual seat.

“No, these I wear quite often,” Donnie said. He pulled out a notebook and a few pens alongside your shared textbook. “They assist with the eye strain if I’m focusing on screens or small text for extended periods of time.”

You hummed in response. “I guess I haven’t seen you wear them before, they suit you.” 

Donnie’s ears flushed, but before he could respond your professor started class. Your prof glanced over at you, giving you a wink before continuing to address everyone about the upcoming project. (Your prof was almost insistent that you bring Donnie to class when you emailed for permission. He was just that enthusiastic about sharing his field.)

Donnie gave him a small wave, but you gently nudged him in the side to be cool. He nudged you back in retaliation and the two of you had a small poking war until the professor properly started on the material. 

(Everything about Donnie drove you back into middle school tactics. It was... a problem.)

Within the span of five minutes, Donnie looked enamored. It was like he had completely forgotten you were there.

You’ve never seen someone as engrossed in a lecture as Donnie was. He was hanging onto every word your professor was saying, taking meticulous notes. Donnie even raised his hand to ask a few questions, which just delighted the professor. Donnie was an incredible influence, you didn’t know if you’ve ever stayed as focused in a class in your life. 

By the end of the lecture, Donnie was bouncing up and down with excitement. He could barely contain himself before bursting out into a rant about the material and the project when the two of you excited the lecture hall.

“Oh-mi-gosh! That was the most informative thing since TedEd was invented. I now understand how they use the brain impulses as signals for the code to respond to. It’s a brain interface! I thought that was just a one-off method with the Kraang, but we can implement it with Earth technology,” Donnie took both of your hands in his, “This is the exact thing I was missing for my project! Thank you for taking me today.”

“Anytime, Donald,” you chuckled at him, “You definitely enjoyed that more than I ever do.”

“How could I not?” Donnie started shaking your joined hands, “Any moment at this esteemed institution is a lifetime’s worth of knowledge gai–”

“Hey wait up!” your roommate called, interrupting Donnie’s rant. Your face blanched as she headed over. 

“I’m gonna need you to follow my lead on this one,” you hissed at him through a smile, letting go of Donnie’s hands.

“Hey May, I didn’t think you were on this side of campus today,” you said, greeting her.

“Oh, you know, photography knows no bounds,” she said, holding up her camera. She looked at Donnie and grinned. “Well, aren’t you going to introduce me?”

“Uh, right. This is May, my roommate,” you said, “May, this is–”

“Othello Von Ryan, pleased to meet you,” Donnie interrupted, shaking her hand. May gave him a coy smile.

“The pleasure is all mine, Othello,” May said, “You gotta tell your partner to stop being so secretive about you, there’s no point in them having a boyfriend if they’re not gonna show you off.”

You felt your face turning bright red.

“Right!” you said, grabbing Donnie’s hand, “Well, we really got to get going, I’ll see you at home May, bye!” You walked away from her, dragging Donnie along. Donnie had a look of confusion on his face while he processed what May just said to him. He laughed when it finally registered. 

“Donnie, I’m really gonna need you to not,” you warned. Donnie laughed at you even harder. He maneuvered your hands so they were intertwined rather than just clasped together. He tugged at you so he could lean his face in right next to your ear. 

“Oh, what’s the rush, sweetums?” Donnie drawled. You shook your hand loose of Donnie’s, stepping away and turning to face him.

“I could kill you,” you threatened, “right here. I don’t even care about witnesses.”

“You wouldn’t do that to your precious boyfriend, would you?” You cast a murderous gaze at Donnie, who was biting his lip to avoid devolving into giggles again. “It’s not the best cover story, but it does give me a good excuse for sneaking into your window at night.”

Your cheeks burned. “Is this the price I pay for science? Oh you merciless goddess, please spare me of your tithes,” you lamented. Donnie lost his little bit of self control and started cackling.

You watched him, half bent over and starting to wheeze a little.

Despite yourself, you ended up smiling, too. 

-

QuarkedUp: how many watchlists do you think I would end up on if I googled how to make a pipe bomb

QuarkedUp: i feel like as a chem person its my civic duty to know

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

QuarkedUp: You know what

QuarkedUp: dont even want to know

QuarkedUp: thank you

BootyShaker9000: Anytime.

– 

QuarkedUp: Do you think in words or pictures

QuarkedUp: or just like… /vibes/

BootyShaker9000: Words?

QuarkedUp: hmm okay

QuarkedUp: you could still be an NPC though

QuarkedUp: how is your ability to picture things

BootyShaker9000: Could an NPC do this?

BootyShaker9000 sent a picture

QuarkedUp: Is that my fucking social security information

BootyShaker9000: Yes. :)

QuarkedUp: O_o

BootyShaker9000: And to answer your question, I have an exceptional ability to picture things in my mind.

QuarkedUp: why are you so bad at ochem then

BootyShaker9000: You're still picking fights after I just revealed that I have your social security information?

QuarkedUp: yeah well I have your internet search history

QuarkedUp sent a link

QuarkedUp: I havent looked at it super hard (because I’m nice) but I am seeing a surprising amount of atomic lass searches

BootyShaker9000: I

BootyShaker9000: I would like to request a truce.

QuarkedUp: Granted, darling <3

BootyShaker9000: I am exceptionally close to blocking you.

QuarkedUp: You should be blocking outside hackers from your servers, but that’s just a me thought

–

BootyShaker9000: Inferior Being

QuarkedUp: Donatello

QuarkedUp: (which is spanish for nerd)

BootyShaker9000: I must never introduce you to my brother.

BootyShaker9000: Anyways, to my original point of contacting you.

BootyShaker9000: Would you be amenable to me attending your Engineering in Medical Applications lecture again?

QuarkedUp: I thought you figured out your issue with synapses?

QuarkedUp: Also brother??? There’s more of you??

BootyShaker9000: It appears that my configuration issue is a bit more in depth than your professor made it seem. (That’s no diss on him, he’s a delight.)

BootyShaker9000: Also yes, I have three brothers. 

QuarkedUp: I’m trying to imagine four Donatello’s in one enclosed space

QuarkedUp: I am /not/ liking that mental picture

BootyShaker9000: Harsh words, sweetums.

BootyShaker9000: Although you’re not incorrect. Four Donatello’s is… too many. My brothers and I are very different from one another. I am the only one drawn to the noble pursuit of knowledge.

QuarkedUp: It’s been a week, can we drop the sweetums?

BootyShaker9000: I will consider it if you allow me to tag along to your lecture.

QuarkedUp:....only if you buy me coffee again

BootyShaker9000: Deal.

—

At no fault of your own, Donnie became an even more notable part of your weekly schedule. Wednesday’s and Friday’s he would show up at your dorm in his human disguise and walk with you to the campus coffee shop. 

(You stopped letting him buy coffee after the third time. You were a shit, but not that much of a shit.)

You had a sneaking suspicion that the lectures were less relevant to Donnie’s secret project than he let on and you voiced as such.

“It’s approximately 40% related to the project, 10% love for your professor, and 50% sheer academic joy,” Donnie replied to the confrontation. He gave you a sheepish grin as he explained. You rolled your eyes at him. 

Your prof had a deep fondness for Donatello that you couldn’t explain. Donnie had bounded up to him after a lecture, much to your behest, and immediately started bouncing a million questions off of him. Your prof responded in kind, fully answering each of Donnie’s hypotheticals. He even handed Donnie a piece of paper with his email written on it if he had any further questions.

(Donnie baffled you in more and more ways each day.)

“You’ve hit my soft spot,” you said as you clutched at your chest, “I could never remove a nerd from his natural habitat. The ecological impact alone would be… devastating.” 

Donnie had used a metal arm to tip you out of your chair after that, causing you to break out into raucous laughter on your dorm room floor.

Today though… laughter was not on your side.

You woke up to a human Donatello shaking you awake. You groaned, flipping over and burying your face in your pillow. Donnie let out a large sigh and used his robot arms to pull your blankets off of you. You shivered from the sudden chill and turned back around to level a glare at Donnie.

“What’s your damage?” you said, still mostly groggy. Donnie gave you a blank stare back.

“It’s Friday.”

“Yep.”

“It’s 10:30.”

You stilled, your eyes growing wide. You glanced at your alarm clock to confirm that it was, in fact, 10:30. Your heart stopped.

“Shit fucking dicks!” you said as you launched yourself out of bed, “There’s a test today!” You ran over to your changing area to throw on something a little more dignified than your Jupiter Jim pajamas. You grabbed your pill container from off your dresser and winced as you swallowed your meds dry. 

“I figured when you didn’t show up at our usual spot that you were sleeping in, so I took the liberty of getting coffee while I waited,” Donnie said. He had a smile as he watched you scramble around the room. 

You shoved your laptop into your backpack and looked at Donnie gratefully. He was holding your usual order in one hand and taking a long swig out of his drink in the other. You took your drink from him and downed half of it in one go. You wiped your lips with a smile.

“I knew there was a reason I kept you around.”

“Besides my dashing good looks?” Donnie said, putting his hand on his face with a smirk. You punched his shoulder.

“No time for banter, we have eight minutes for a fifteen minute walk,” you said. Donnie nodded and the two of you took off across campus. You did your best to keep your drink from spilling as you jogged across the commons. Donnie, the ass, was using one of his metal arms to keep it steady. 

(For a second you almost yelled at him to put it away so he wouldn’t blow his cover, but it was college. The mechies were pulling that shit every week.)

“Last one there buys coffee next week?” Donnie asked as the two of you ran side by side.

“You are so on,” you said. Donnie grinned and started pulling in front of you. You swore at his long legs and started picking up the pace. Donnie might’ve had a bit of a height advantage on you, but you knew this campus like the back of your hand. You knew the backways.

You took a sharp right into an alley by the biology building, having to shout out an apology to a person reading a book that you scared the shit out of. You lofted yourself over a concrete wall and threw everything you could into sprinting the last bit to the engineering building. You had tunnel vision so bad that you didn’t even see Donnie before he barrelled into you. Your coffee became crushed between your chests and the two of you fell hard on the sidewalk.

You hissed at the sting of your palms as you caught yourself on the concrete. You surveyed them, seeing that they were well and truly scraped up. You looked over at Donnie to see if he was okay and was shocked to find a giant turtle rubbing his head.

“Donnie! Your image transducer!” you said. Donnie’s eyes went wide as he looked down at himself. He pressed the button on the side of the brooch, but his human disguise didn’t so much as flicker back on. 

You got up and threw your flannel over his head, scanning the area for anyone around. You started fully panicking.

“Donnie, shit, this test– it’s 15% of my grade–” you stammered, not knowing what to do. Donnie raised a hand, stopping you.

“Go take it, I’ll be okay,” he said. He shot you a smile, “Send my regards to your professor, I hope to see him next week.”

You gave him an uneasy smile, but nodded. You grabbed your bag and rushed into the classroom. 

–

QuarkedUp: Did you get home alright?

BootyShaker9000: I’ve been a turtle for 22 years now, getting home with limited attention is child’s play.

QuarkedUp: Well I’m glad some lab didn’t scoop you up and start dissecting you

BootyShaker9000: Ye of little faith.

BootyShaker9000: How did the test go?

QuarkedUp: Kicked ass, obvs

QuarkedUp: Always helps when you got an accountabili-buddy that makes you go to every lecture

QuarkedUp: How messed up is your image transducer?

BootyShaker9000: It’s a bit… fried, to say the least.

BootyShaker9000: Apparently the crystal I was using to power it reacts poorly to coffee, for some unknown reason.

BootyShaker9000: It’ll be a bit before Othello Von Ryan will be able to show up again.

QuarkedUp: Oh jeez man, that’s my bad

QuarkedUp: how can I make it up to you for wrecking your tech

BootyShaker9000: Next week’s notes and coffee.

QuarkedUp: You got it, Dee-dee

QuarkedUp: Are we still on for quiz Friday?

BootyShaker9000: Only if you still have those sour gummies

QuarkedUp: I’ll stock up 

QuarkedUp: Not because I like you

QuarkedUp: But only because that still falls under the repayment obligation.

BootyShaker9000: Whatever you have to say to help you sleep at night, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: :[

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp: You should send me your Spotify account

BootyShaker9000: And why might that be?

QuarkedUp: I need to ascertain your vibes

QuarkedUp: I have a hunch and I want to see if I’m right

BootyShaker9000 sent a link.

QuarkedUp: OH I FUCKING KNEW IT

QuarkedUp: I had you pegged as an Abba enjoyer

BootyShaker9000: What can I say? I have a love for my 80’s pop groups. 

BootyShaker9000: Although I have been phasing out my use of Spotify for my much superior Donnie’s Beat’s algorithm.

QuarkedUp: mmm okay lozer

QuarkedUp: #SpotifySupremacy

BootyShaker9000: I suppose you’re allowed to have opinions. 

QuarkedUp: DONNIE

QuarkedUp: donnie give it to me straight

BootyShaker9000: ?

QuarkedUp: are you a theatre kid???

BootyShaker9000:... Theatre can capture a flair for the dramatics that I struggle to find in other music.

QuarkedUp: oh my god

QuarkedUp: this is the best day of my life

QuarkedUp: I hope you realize we’re watching Moulin Rouge when you come over again

BootyShaker9000: I deem this acceptable

QuarkedUp: I’m making a fusion playlist of both of our top genres

QuarkedUp: Vibes? Improved. Tastes? Catered to. Hotel? Trivago

BootyShaker9000: Please spare me the outdated memes.

QuarkedUp: PlEaSe SpArE mE tHe OuTdAtEd MeMeS

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: I will block you. 

QuarkedUp: You wouldn’t do that to your precious sweetums

BootyShaker9000: I will block you /and/ delete every trace of you off of the internet. 

QuarkedUp: <3

QuarkedUp: What’s the deal with all the hastune miku

BootyShaker9000: I did not share my account with you to be scrutinized for my tastes.

QuarkedUp: oh im not teasing, vocaloid music is baller

QuarkedUp: i just wanna know if you listen to her in the weeb way or in the auditory stim way

BootyShaker9000: Her music is pleasing to my temporal lobe.

QuarkedUp: ADHD/autism solidarity

QuarkedUp: Booyah

BootyShaker9000: I have known no peace since meeting you.

—

QuarkedUp sent a link

QuarkedUp: Your species is diurnal, am I depriving you of sleep at night?

BootyShaker9000: As if I would lose sleep over an inferior species.

QuarkedUp: Cold, Donatello, cold. 

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

QuarkedUp: why are you sending me chemistry TikTok’s at midnight

QuarkedUp: you do realize that I can see your entire account now, right?

BootyShaker9000: I BEG YOU TO NOT

QuarkedUp: >:)

BootyShaker9000: Blocked, reported, banned.

QuarkedUp: that has literally never stopped me before

—

BootyShaker9000: What is with the startling amount of David Bowie on your Spotify?

QuarkedUp: youre literally being SO homophobic to me right now

QuarkedUp: bowie is literally a queer icon and you’re dogging on him

BootyShaker9000: I assure you I am not.

QuarkedUp: sounds like something a bigot would say

BootyShaker9000: Ah, yes. Me. The biromantic demisexual who’s been drawing on eyebrows for more than a decade and only wears purple is homophobic. You got me. 

QuarkedUp: You mean there arent little slits cut in your mask so your turtle brows can show through?!?!

BootyShaker9000: I believe /you’re/ the one being homophobic now

QuarkedUp: oh fuck

—

QuarkedUp: Donnie

QuarkedUp: The D

QuarkedUp: Dee-dee

QuarkedUp: King Dedede

BootyShaker9000: There’s no need to spam.

QuarkedUp: that’s so unpog of you

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: Why are you the way that you are?

QuarkedUp: Maybe she’s born with it, maybe it’s Maybelline

QuarkedUp: Anyways 

QuarkedUp: No quiz friday but I should be good any day this week if you actually wanted to watch Moulin Rouge

BootyShaker9000: Ah, this works out; I have obligations Friday. 

BootyShaker9000: Is Wednesday agreeable?

QuarkedUp: who the fuck uses semicolons while texting

BootyShaker9000: Those with class.

QuarkedUp: mmm okay

QuarkedUp: Wednesday works

QuarkedUp: Be here at 7?

BootyShaker9000: Aye aye, captain.

—

“Be prepared, mere mortal,” Donnie started as he let himself in through your dorm room window, “to be amazed with my stellar cosplay of Moulin Rouge’s very own– oh Hawking why are you crying?”

You made quite a picture for Donnie to walk into. Tears were streaming down your face as you looked at Donnie pitifully. You were sure your hair was a frizzy mess, there was a solid streak of blue dye trailing from the side of your face to the bottom sections of your hair from your pen exploding on you. Papers were strewn all around you with the occasional food wrapper peppered in.

“Physics,” you sniffled, “It’s always physics.”

Donnie made his way over to you through the chaos and patted your shoulder. You leaned your head against his side and stared blankly into space. Donnie stiffened slightly at the additional contact, but you weren’t in the right mind to correct your positioning. 

“My brain… I fear I may never recover,” you murmured. You looked up at Donnie, still crying, “I see equations when I close my eyes. There is no escape.”

“Hmm, not to detract from your current crisis, but I suppose you forgot about our plans tonight?” Donnie asked. He moved himself away from you to sit on your bed, taking up his usual residence.

You paused from your moping. “...What day is it?”

“November 14th at approximately 7pm,” Donnie said, “Or Wednesday, if you’d rather.”

“Oh Donnie, shit!” You started clearing up your mess and organizing your papers. “I’m so sorry, I’ve just been so stuck on finishing this assignment, it completely slipped my mind.”

“It is of no matter to me, I understand your academic obligations come first,” Donnie said. He already had his laptop out and was typing away, the bastard. You let a man into your space for a little less than two months and he claims your bed as his. 

“Yeah, I’m not sure angular momentum is anything more than an academic pain in the ass,” you grumbled, “I’m supposed to be designing medical equipment, not calculating the velocity of a yo-yo! I don’t– I’m not understanding anything from this class.” You put your head in your hands, taking a deep breath. 

“Such is the struggle that is physics,” Donnie mused. He stopped typing and looked up at you. “I could assist you, if you’d like.”

“Dee, you came over to watch movies, not be my unpaid tutor. I can’t ask you to do that.”

“I promise you, the joy and intricacies of angular momentum will be just as fulfilling to me as watching Moulin Rouge for the twelfth time,” Donnie said, “Although, I am imposing a mandatory 15 minute break for you, you’ll get nothing done if you don’t allow your brain to rest for a time.”

You blinked blearily at him and slowly laid your head down on your bed, your body still standing to reach it. 

“Dee, you are my savior,” you said into your blankets. You felt a metal hand pat your head.

“You are not the first to say that, my child, nor will you be the last,” Donnie said with the air of a wizened old man. You snorted at him. Another metal claw held a handkerchief in front of your face. You used it to dry your face and blow your nose. 

That was… oddly sweet. 

“Okay Gandalf, I’m going to go take a quick shower if it's all the same to you,” you said. Donnie grunted in response. “Cool, make yourself at home.”

You gathered up a fresh change of clothes and your shower caddy and left for the communal showers. You took off your prosthetic fingers and placed them in your clothing bag before turning the water on. You could feel the tenseness of your body leave you the moment hot water hit your skin. 

You took in the ink stain on your hair and deemed it a lost cause. Whatever you couldn’t take out with shampoo, you’d just cover over with some hair dye later, you’d decided.

Struck by the sudden quiet of the bathroom, you looked for your speaker in your shower caddy and found it missing. Another win for you in the book, it seems. 

You sighed, reaching for the body wash instead. You thought about Donnie, about how he was so quick to change gears when he saw how distressed you were. You considered Donnie more than an acquaintance, yes, but this? 

Donnie was a full-blown friend . You wracked your brain wondering how that had happened. At the beginning of the semester you had hardly spoken to any Yokai, much less invited one to your dorm room on a weekly basis. You had knocked him out within the first ten minutes of meeting him, for christ’s sake.

You turned off the shower and started to pat yourself dry, shaking the train of thought out of your head.

However you managed it, you were thankful for Donnie. 

Even if he was a pain in your ass.

—

“Oh, back so soon?” Donnie said, greeting you as you walked in. You made a face at him, immediately going to put your things away and hang up your towel.

“I’m a little scared to ask how long it takes you to shower,” you said. You dropped your dirty clothes in your hamper and finally turned back around to witness what Donnie was up to. 

He had cleared up your floor, even picking up and organizing the pile of books you had next to your desk. All your dishware was cleared off your desk and was replaced with two steaming mugs of coffee and a cup of instant ramen on your desk. Donnie had even made your bed .

“I don’t know if I’m dreaming but I don’t wanna wake up,” you said. Donnie gave you a big smile as he tied off the trash bag he was holding.

“I’ve often been told that I’m the man of someone’s dreams,” Donnie said. You stuck your tongue out at him. He mimicked the gesture while handing you the cup of ramen and a pair of purple chopsticks. (You suspected that he had the set stored in his battle shell.)

“I had a sneaking suspicion that you didn’t eat any real food recently, so this is as close to dinner as I could manage,” Donnie said. You held your hand to your chest, tears starting to well up at your eyes. 

“I hope you understand that this is a marriage proposal in some countries,” you said. You watched as Donnie stuttered, trying to formulate a response, and smiled. 

What a dork.

You looked down into your ramen and was surprised to find a sliced soft boiled egg and some sliced green onions on top of the noodles. 

“Dee-dee, I definitely don’t remember having eggs in my minifridge,” you said. Donnie went from looking flustered to looking very sheepish.

“I may have… borrowed some from your downstairs neighbors,” he admitted. You gave him a blank expression and blinked at him while you took your first bite of the ramen. You nearly started crying again as you started chewing the noodles. (You weren’t entirely sure when your last meal was today.)

“Don’t do it again, but this is the best meal I’ve had in months,” you said with your mouth full. You shoveled the ramen into your mouth at record speed, reaching for your coffee to wash it down. You noticed that your coffee had creamer and sugar to your usual specifications. You set the coffee down on your desk and turned to Donnie who was sipping on his own cup.

“I would like to hug you now,” you said, holding out your arms and making grabbing motions with your hands. Donnie choked on his coffee.

“What, why?” he said, half coughing.

“Display of gratitude. I would also settle for a hand squeeze if you’re not touchy today,” you said, still holding out your arms. 

Donnie furrowed his brows, but apprehensively set his coffee down and walked into your arms. You pulled him into you, wrapping your arms around his back and pressing your face into his plastron. Donnie robotically patted your head and put one arm around your shoulders.

“You should allow me to scan your brain for damage due to prolonged exposure to physics,” Donnie mused, “It appears that you are a bit… broken.”

You groaned into his chest, releasing him from your hold and stepping away from him. You moved to sit at your desk and boot up your laptop.

“Way to kill a bromance moment, Dee-dee,” you said. You pulled up the last problem that you were working on for your assignment and groaned, remembering how stuck you were. Donnie pulled up your roommate’s desk chair next to you. He read over the problem and let out a happy chirping noise. You noticed him tapping his feet on the ground excitedly.

“Have I mentioned that physics is one of my favorite fields of study?” Donnie asked. He grabbed one of your pens from a cup you had on your desk and started sketching out a picture from the problem. “It combines logic and reasoning and applied mathematics in a way that most other fields cannot begin to compare to. It’s… splendid.”

Donnie looked at you and gave you a bonafide, unrestrained smile. He held another pen out to you, offering it. 

“Are you ready to learn?” he asked. You took the pen from Donnie, taking in how open his body language was and how genuinely excited he seemed to be about teaching you. You felt your heart beat weird for just a moment and smiled back at him.

“Hit me with everything you’ve got, Dee-dee.”

—

Donnie, hands down, was one of the best tutors you’ve ever had. You figured that 30% of it was his unfathomable knowledge of the topic, but the other 70% was sheer, unadulterated enthusiasm. Any sliver of guilt you felt about having Donnie help you with your work dissipated when he squealed with joy as you got the first problem right. 

You also got over any embarrassment you had from needing help. You were worried about Donnie talking down to you for not understanding something that came so easy to him, but he just kept surprising you. Instead of teases and taunts, you found yourself dealing with praise and chirps of affirmations as you worked through the problems.

You found yourself laughing and relaxed as you worked through the problem set, something that had never happened while you were dealing with something physics related. Donnie sorted through your physics notes as you worked, letting out scoffs of disappointment. 

“You’d think they would hire professors that know how to teach, this isn’t how you’re supposed to introduce momentum and impulse at all,” Donnie admonished, “I think I still have my notes from when I was working through this material, I’m going to clean up the file and send it to you.”

“Ooo, a Donnie-edition physics textbook, you could make good money off of that,” you said. 

“Scoff, capitalizing off of education is how we got to this predicament in the first place,” Donnie said. He set your notebook aside and peered over at your paper, “How’s that last problem going?” 

“I think I actually have this concept down,” you said. You typed in your answer into your homework program and pressed enter. You could have collapsed with relief when you saw that you got the right answer. You looked over the problem set and saw that you had finally finished every problem. You slumped into your chair, allowing your head to fall back over the backrest.

“This feels better than heroin,” you said, sighing. You brought a hand up to massage your temples. Your body felt limp with the final vestiges of adrenaline finally leaving your system. 

“I do hope that you’re not speaking from personal experience,” Donnie said. He started gathering your mugs and discarded silverware to deposit in the bin of dirty dishes you kept by the door. You had half a mind to stop him, but knew you couldn’t best Donnie in your state of mental exhaustion. Instead, you looked at the clock to see that it was only 10:15. 

“Hey, Dee-dee,” You called out, flipping yourself around to face Donnie, “I don’t have class until 11 tomorrow if you still wanted to watch Moulin Rouge.”

“Of course you say that only after I’ve taken off my suspenders,” he replied. You scoffed at him, shaking your head. Donnie did look very dapper, you could admit, in the button-down and fitted pants ensemble he had arrived in. It was only the nature of nice outfits that once you’ve spent hours doing physics, they’re bound to become untucked and slightly taken off.

“Okay Christian, let me get the projector set up.”

You packed up your schoolwork and placed your projector (a bit precariously) on the middle of the bed, displaying the movie on the mini-movie screen you had hanging from the ceiling from command hooks. 

Was it a dorm violation? Yes. Did your RA care about anything that wasn’t booze, weed, or noise violations? Nope.

You settled onto your bed, your legs dangling off the edge of your bunk while you sat horizontally across it. Donnie sat next to you, careful not to disrupt the projector in between the two of you. You yawned as you plugged in your laptop to the projector.

“If you fall asleep during the movie, I will insist on finishing it next time,” Donnie warned, half teasing. You blew a raspberry at him.

“I have like four cups of coffee in me, there’s no way I’m passing out before midnight,” you said. You pulled up the movie from a totally legal and trustworthy website and pressed play. You wrapped a throw blanket around yourself and snuggled into the nest of pillows you had created against the wall. 

Donnie looked at you, unconvinced, and mimicked your position on his side of the bed. You hummed with contentment as the familiar intro started up on the screen. You were very cozy in a way you hadn’t been for a long time. Wednesday nights without homework until 3 am were very few and far between.

You felt yourself closing your eyes more and more as you tried to keep your attention on Ewan McGregor narrating over the roaming cityscapes on the screen. You nestled farther into your pillows, drawing your blanket tighter around you.

You swear you heard a soft “I told you so” before you succumbed to that blissful darkness. 

—

You woke up to your 10 o’clock alarm blaring at you, suspiciously tucked in and your projector nowhere to be seen. You reached for your face to rub your eyes and found a sticky note stuck to your forehead. 

Good morning sweetums! 

I took the liberty of cleaning up after you passed out. (In less than ten minutes, that’s a lair record.) I should have my physics notes sent to you before noon, please send over any questions you may have.

–D

P.S. You snore. 

P.P.S. Movie next Friday?

You really were going to kill him.

Chapter Text

You stood at the campus coffee shop, waiting for the barista to call out your name. It had been a slow Tuesday, you were looking forward to a good 15-minute coffee break before delving into your anatomy coursework. You looked over the assignment before you saw that your physics grade had updated.

You squealed, nearly dropping your phone. You grinned sheepishly at the people staring at you and pulled up Donnie’s contact to call him. You grabbed your coffee and headed out of the cafe while your phone rang.

“Hello, this is Donatello speaking,” Donnie said. You heard the sound of swords clanging together and miscellaneous yelling, but decided not to ask about it.

“Dee-dee! I got a 90 on my physics quiz!” you announced, “Raw score, not even curved yet. I’m basically a fucking savant.”

“Congrats, I– oh, one second,” he said. You heard some grunting and the sound of metal clanging together. Donnie laughed maniacally as the sound of electricity overtook your speaker. You had to pull your phone away from your ear until the noise died down.

“Alright, I’m back,” Donnie said. The sounds of chaos in the background had noticeably quieted down, “This is a momentous occasion! All thanks to my superb tutoring skills, I’m sure.”

You shook your head, finally taking a sip of your coffee. 

“I’m simply hopeless without you, Dee-Dee.”

“As most are,” Donnie said, “Regardless of who’s brilliance was put to the test, this is cause for celebration!”

“I concur,” you said, “Would you like to come over and get destroyed at drunk Mario Kart?”

Donnie let out a noise of consideration. 

You heard a muffled, “No Leo, that was not an open invite. Don’t you have a bunny to go make eyes at?” from the other side of the line. Loud arguing started to break out and you swear you could hear Donnie’s phone flying through the air.

It was taking everything within you to not burst out laughing. You sat yourself on a bench outside of the library while you listened to the chaos. (You didn’t dare speak on the phone within the premises, the Pre-Meds would destroy you body and soul if you disturbed their peace.)

“Please forgive the rudeness, my brothers were raised without manners,” Donnie said, finally breaking free from the commotion. 

“Says the dude that plants his ass on my bed without asking every week,” you said. 

“Scoff, you’ve never made any indication that I wasn’t allowed to sit there.”

“And you never asked,” you said, fully teasing. You heard Donnie let out a huff of frustration, so you decided to ease up on him. 

“Anyways, Mario Kart? Booze?” you said to steer the conversation back, “My wine may be a little homegrown, but if you ask my professors they’ll tell you that my biochemistry is aces.”

“As much fun as botulism would be, I was thinking that you could come over to my lab?” Donnie said. His bravado from earlier dissipated slightly, “I have an excellent movie area and I was thinking that I could show you my work for Project Kappa Kappa.”

“You mean the super secret project that you refuse to divulge any real details on?” you asked.

“Yes,” Donnie said, “Also it is seemingly impossible to get you to finish Moulin Rouge. I hypothesize that a new environment may assist in your ability to stay awake.”

“I resent that remark and would like to let the record show that me prematurely passing out has literally never happened before,” you said. You and Donnie had attempted watching Moulin Rouge again after the first try, but you didn’t make it through the first 30 minutes.

(It really was your fault for inviting Donnie over after a late-night exam; you always crashed after having to concentrate for that long. But still.)

“I’m sure you tell all your fake boyfriends that,” Donnie snarked. You let out an affronted gasp.

“Donatello? Was that a dirty joke?” you said, sounding as outraged as possible, “I’ll have you know that I have very godly sensibilities and you have offended me, good sir.”

Donnie laughed at you through the phone.

“Well, are you and your ‘godly sensibilities’ free tonight at around 6?” Donnie asked. You worried your lip between your teeth, trying to think of any assignments you had to finish tonight. You figured that you could handle most of your anatomy work between now and then. 

Your prosthetic fingers spasmed, almost causing you to drop your coffee. You sighed, wiping off some of the coffee that landed on your bench. You really were overdue for a recalibration, it was probably best if you didn’t put it off any longer.

“Pick me up at 7, I have a few things I need to finish before then,” you said, “You do have a car, don’t you?”

“I have my modes of transportation,” Donnie said, mysteriously. You were half tempted to ask, but knew that the answer would take even more time out of your study session.

“Oooh-kay, I’ll see you then.”

“Toodles,” Donnie said. He hung up on you with a click.

You let out a long exhale and took a swig of your coffee. Now or never, you figured, finally walking into the library to get your work done.

--

QuarkedUp: you'd think my anatomy professor would buy me dinner

QuarkedUp: considering how badly this assignment is EATING MY ASS holy SHIT

QuarkedUp: im going to drop out

BootyShaker9000: Hmmm

BootyShaker9000: Do it.

BootyShaker9000: Do what must be done.

QuarkedUp: is that a fucking star wars reference

QuarkedUp: i come to you in my time of need and you hit me with the palpatine???

BootyShaker9000: Perchance.

QuarkedUp: ...

QuarkedUp: hey don

BootyShaker9000: Yes, sweetums?

QuarkedUp: Are you y=1/x as x approaches infinity?

QuarkedUp: because you have me at my /limit/

BootyShaker9000: Ooo, calculus burn.

BootyShaker9000: Nice.

BootyShaker9000: If you were as good at physics as you were making math puns, maybe you'd be getting an A in the class.

QuarkedUp: ITS ON SITE DONATELLO

BootyShaker9000: I'd like to see you try. <3

--

QuarkedUp: I would like to take back my previous insults.

QuarkedUp sent a photo

QuarkedUp: physics help, please

BootyShaker9000: What happened to being a "fucking savant"?

QuarkedUp: that lasted approximately half a chapter of content

QuarkedUp: help me dee-dee, you're my only hope

BootyShaker9000: I thought Star Wars quotes weren't allowed in this household.

QuarkedUp: I'm clearly desperate

QuarkedUp: and not right in the head

BootyShaker9000: You poor thing.

BootyShaker9000 called QuarkedUp for 16 minutes

—

You were sitting in your dorm when Donnie appeared in your window. You were watching over your prosthetics while your systems check program ensured that all the moving pieces were working properly. You had to solder a few loose connections, so you just wanted to make sure that you installed everything properly before you put anything back onto your body. 

You covered your currently three-fingered hand self-consciously as you greeted Donnie coming into your room.

“What, no ‘hello’s’? No ‘good afternoon’s’? Just breaking in and flopping on my beanbag?” you teased. 

“Affirmative,” Donnie said with his voice half muffled from the fabric. He lifted his face up, taking in a deep breath, and flopped onto his back without any air of grace or skill, “Will you be ready to go soon?”

You glanced at the time before returning to your program, looking to see for any irregularities. 

“You’re fifteen minutes early Dee-dee,” you said, “I’ll be ready in exactly fifteen minutes.”

Donnie groaned, flopping back around to put his face in the beanbag. You rolled your eyes at him. You had no clue what the commotion was earlier, but it must’ve tuckered him out.

You decided that your program would be fine without you hovering for a few minutes, so you got up to put on shoes and a thicker hoodie. You pulled the one you were previously wearing off and balled it up to throw it at Donnie’s head. You laughed when he popped his head up in confusion. He wrinkled his brows and threw the hoodie back at you, but you sidestepped it as you walked over to your dresser for a beanie. 

“You’re whiny,” you said.

“You’re honorless for attacking with my back to you,” Donnie replied. You mimicked his voice while you walked over to your desk. No system problems were revealed by your program, small mercies. You were really hoping the glitches were from the loose connections and not some deeper structural problem that you didn’t catch. 

(Or trouble with your interface. You were really hoping that you didn’t need to fix that.)

You disconnected your prosthetic fingers from their hub and snapped them back into place on your hand. You gave them a second to connect and wiggled your fingers around to test if they were working. 

You caught Donnie looking at the entire process, seemingly mesmerized. You blushed, covering your prosthetics with your good hand.

“Oh, sorry,” you said, “I know it freaks people out when I put my fingers on.”

Donnie looked at you with confusion and then realization.

“No! No, no, you’re mistaken,” Donnie said, standing up and putting his open hands in front of him, “I was just curious about the process, I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

You felt yourself turning even more red at the commotion Donnie was making over you.

“Congrats, you get front row seats to the ye olde Eight-fingers, whatever will they do next?” you said while making jazz hands. You cringed internally at your lame joke, but Donnie seemed unbothered.

“I think you’re forgetting that I also only have three fingers. You’re just lucky enough that you get to choose otherwise,” he said. Donnie wiggled his own fingers in a similar fashion to you. You snorted.

“Hell of an expensive choice,” you said. You walked over to your window, beckoning for Donnie to join you, “I believe a mode of transportation was mentioned?”

Donnie lit up. He started typing on his tech-cuff and his shell began to reform into a seat with handlebars and four turbines at each corner. 

“Ta-da! My jetpack plus one, the only mode of New York transportation that’s guaranteed to be traffic free,” Donnie announced. He knelt down on one knee before your window and gestured for you to hop on.

“Jetpack? Seriously? Is this thing even safe?” you asked. You prodded at the seat, looking to see if there was any give anywhere on the contraption.

“Scoff, of course it's safe! I’ve been jetpacking around town since I was 14,” Donnie said. He turned to face you, giving you a shit eating grin, “We could always take the subway if you’re too scared, sweetums.”

Gah, your weakness: unnecessary pissing contests.

“I see what you’re doing here, but just understand that I’m not the weaker man here,” you said, climbing onto his back.  You barely received any warning before a seat belt fastened itself around your waist and Donnie shot out the window. You let out a very undignified squeak and scrambled for the handlebars as Donnie did a barrel roll to tease you.

“Oh, fuck you, Donatello,” you said while squeezing your eyes shut. Donnie cackled, continuing the journey through the New York sky.

You were just hoping you wouldn’t pass out before you got to the lair.

Chapter Text

You didn’t end up dying, thank god, but you did arrive on shaky legs. Donatello had to catch you when you stepped out of your seat. He gave you a cheeky grin as you got your bearings underneath you.

“Still getting your sky legs, I see.”

“Not a word, Donatello,” you said. You took a solid step and sighed, letting go of your hold on Donnie, “Next time, we’re taking the subway.”

Donnie snorted, “Whatever you say, sweetums.” He stepped away from you and started lifting a manhole cover. You tilted your head in confusion, finally registering the dark alley you were in.

“This isn’t a scheme to kill me… is it?”

“You’re far more useful to me alive than dead,” Donnie said. He finally popped the lid off to the sewer cover, placing it over to the side. “Now, in you go.”

You took a moment to ponder your life. How you got here. What you were about to do. Who you were spending your time with.

It would be really lame if you died in a sewer. Killed by a theater kid, no less.

You weren’t known for your sanity in most situations.

“I will haunt your ass if I die down there,” you threatened Donnie. He shrugged, offering a hand to help you down onto the ladder. You took it, but not without giving him a suspicious glare.

You made your way down the metal ladder with Donnie following close after. You let out a sigh of relief the moment that your feet hit solid ground again.

(You were still a little shaky from the jetpack ride. Not that you would let Donnie know that.)

You were surprised to see how… cozy the lair was. You weren’t in the sewers at all, it looked like you were in an abandoned subway lobby. There was an assortment of couches that surrounded a crate with a projector on it. Their projector screen was huge. It made you a little envious when you thought about your dorm set-up.

Donnie dropped down next to you, wiping his hands on his side.

“Come on, my lab is this way,” he said while walking into one of the many hallways. You followed close behind him. You definitely would get lost down there by yourself.

You heard laughing, a delighted screech, and a loud thud from another area of the lair. Donnie’s pace picked up as he registered the noise.

“Was that one of your brothers? Can I meet them?”

“Yes, most likely Raph and Mikey, and maybe later,” Donnie said. The two of you arrived at a door that Donnie was typing an absurdly long password into. The door slid up into the ceiling with a hiss. “If my brothers catch wind of a new person down here, all of our plans might as well be tossed out the metaphorical window.”

“Mmm, your plans Dee…” you trailed off, your jaw dropping in shock as you took in the room. Donnie had lab equipment and tools you could only dream of, much less be allowed within fifteen feet.

“Holy shit, is that a Form Labs 3-D printer? The engineering department has a week-long waitlist on using these things,” you exclaimed. You bounced around the room, taking in Donnie’s collection. He had multiple centrifuges and a set of micropipettes so new you almost drooled over them. You hadn’t seen anything that nice at your college, much less in a personal lab.

Your eyes trailed over to what you assumed to be the mechanical side of the lab. Your hands itched to touch the mig welder Donnie had stashed in the corner with his other metal-working equipment.

Everything from the lights to the handles on the micropipettes were in various shades of purple, you noted with fondness. What was Donnie except perpetually on brand?

“I think I could die happy here,” you said, finally turning back around to Donnie.

“I’m glad you’re suitably impressed,” Donnie said. He had his arms crossed and a smug look on his face that you knew all too well. He moved over to a darker section of the lab, flicking on a light switch you didn’t even know was there.

“But what is equipment without deeper brilliance? The real showstopper is–”

“A party? Without me?” Another figure interrupted, draping an arm over his head like a primadonna, “You wound me, my one and only twin.”

“Leo, how did you get in here?” Donnie asked. Leo dropped the act and flashed Donnie a cheeky grin.

Leo was one of Donnie’s brothers, you assumed. The two of them were similar in height, but Leo didn’t wear a battle shell like Donnie does. His skin was also a different shade of green with completely different markings. You wondered if they were different species of turtles.

You watched from the side as Leo goaded and teased Donnie. Any bully of Donnie was a friend of yours, you decided with a smile.

“I have a guest, dum-dum,” Donnie said through clenched teeth. Leo paused his terrorizing, looking over at you. He remembered himself and walked towards you with a smile, his mask tails smacking Donnie in the face.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Leo said. He held out his hand to you, but you hesitated.

You remembered those red marks on Leo’s face, your mind flashing back to when you were trapped in Metro Tower during the Kraang invasion. For four days, you had barricaded yourself in your mom’s office. You nearly died when you tried to make a break for it. You only survived because a yokai saved you at the last second. This yokai.

“Holy shit, it's you!” you exclaimed. Donnie and Leo looked at you confused. You sighed, raising your hand to show your prosthetics. “Five years ago at Metro Tower, you saved my ass from a Kraang Zombie.”

Realization dawned on Leo’s face. Donnie just looked even more confused.

“You were the kid on the sixth floor,” Leo said. His eyes looked cloudy for a minute, but he quickly snapped out of it.

“Gotta say, did not expect to run into you again, much less in Donnie’s lab,” Leo said. He surveyed your hand, “Glad to see you didn’t lose the whole arm, katanas are not board certified surgical equipment.”

You laughed, “Glad to see that the dude that chopped off the other two fingers is still kicking it.”

“Excuse me, what?” Donnie interjected. He looked a little flabbergasted and…flustered? It wasn’t a look that you were familiar with on Donnie.

“Leo saved me from turning into a zombie when one of them decided that my hand would be a tasty snack,” you explained, “I was about five seconds from being Kraang-ified before he swooped in.”

Donnie’s face became starkly neutral. Leo slung an arm over your shoulder, leaving you without time to process his reaction.

“Oh, you know. Just a normal day as a hero, hero-ing it up. Heroically.” Leo said, preening. You batted him off with a smile on your face.

“Say that to my missing pinky, Superman,” you teased. Leo’s face fell just a tad. You were quick to recover.

“But I gotta say, it wasn’t all that bad building the replacement,” you said, “I've got bluetooth connections up the wazoo.” You used your thumb to click on the light up feature you added to your prosthetics when you were young and dumb and were prone to shorting out electronics.

(You kept it only as a party trick.)

Leo’s eyes widened in intrigue. He took your hand in his and started messing with your prosthetics.

“Wow, you built these from scratch?” Leo said. He started forcing your fingers to clench and unfurl, “No wonder Donnie has you holed up in his lab.”

Donnie, for his part, had the consciousness to look embarrassed for his brother crossing several boundaries within the first time meeting you in a non-life threatening interaction. He leaned against one of his work tables with his arms crossed. He pointedly turned his nose up at Leo's actions, which made you snort.

You decided to humor Leo, letting him mess with your hand for just a while longer.

“More like I gutted the ones they tried to stick on me and spent three years rewriting their code, but yeah,” you said with an air of pride, “These are all me for the most part.”

You wiggled your prosthetics at Leo, finally pulling them from his grip. He looked properly impressed, which stroked that little part of your ego that you rarely got to express.

It wasn’t often you got to bring up your prosthetics in conversation beyond awkward stares and rushed condolences. You were more than a disability, dammit; you’re a goddamned scientist.

“But don’t get it twisted, Donnie only loves me for my chemistry skills,” you said. You stuck your tongue out at Donnie. Donnie uncrossed his arms but looked no less annoyed.

“False, I have no love for anything chemistry related,” Donnie corrected. He uncrossed his arms, but his tone was no less irritated. ”Alright, Leon if you’d please?”

Donnie motioned for the door. You watched as the two of them exchanged a subtle communication that you couldn’t hope to begin to decipher.

You tried to follow along with their microexpressions as best you could. You knew Leo had lost the silent argument when he rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Alright, I know when I’m not wanted. It was nice meeting you properly! Hopefully I’ll see you around the lair more,” Leo said. He gave you a friendly pat on the shoulder and headed for the door.

“Likewise,” you called out to him.

Donnie clapped his hands together, moving from his position against his desk, “Alright, we’ll finish the tour and then begin the movie?”

You tilted your head at him.

“What about–”

“Tour and movie, yes or no?” Donnie interrupted. You bit the inside of your cheek, stopping yourself from saying something unnecessarily cheeky. You hadn’t dealt with a snippy Donnie since the first week of meeting him, this was more uncharted territory for you. You decided to not press him about Project Kappa Kappa.

(Even if it was the whole reason why you were there.)

“Tour and movie sound great, Dee-dee,” you said. You gave him a bright smile, trying to be as amenable as possible. Donnie shifted to full tour guide mode, launching back into explanations for his different equipment. You followed behind him, nodding along to his speech.

(God, you were such a good friend.)

—-

The two of you eventually made it to Donnie’s bedroom, which had a few bean bag chairs and a projector already set up. Donnie stepped past you, scooping up a few empty bowls.

“It appears that Shelldon did not make popcorn like I requested, I will only be a moment,” Donnie said. He walked back out of his room and presumably into a mysterious kitchen you hadn’t been shown yet. Donnie left you standing there, alone, and wondering who the heck Shelldon was.

You took it upon yourself to get comfortable. You flopped down into one of Donnie’s plush bean bags, punching it into shape. You allowed your head to fall back. Donnie had little stars and galaxies painted on his ceiling, you noted with a smile. You tried to make out any constellations that you could recognize while you waited for Donnie to return.

He appeared at the door, about ten minutes later, and wordlessly handed you a fresh bowl of popcorn. He settled himself in the beanbag next to you and tapped on his tech-gauntlet. The projector booted up and Moulin Rouge started playing almost immediately.

“I think I’m gonna redecorate my dorm room to look like the Elephant,” you said. The movie was at the part where Christian was meeting Satine for the first time. (The sheer hijinks of this scene made it one of your favorites.)

Donnie grunted, but didn’t comment further. You furrowed your brow.

“Did I ever tell you that me and my friends did a group Moulin Rouge costume for Halloween last year? I busted out my old Dr. Frank N. Furter corset for Satine’s outfit,” you said, gesturing to her outfit in the scene. Donnie grunted again.

Donnie was a turtle of many qualities, but quiet in the presence of one of interests was not one of them. Even when he was showing you Youtube videos, the two of you were constantly talking through it. But there he sat, quiet and as stoic as ever.

“Donnie,” you attempted. Donnie stayed silent. His body was curled away from you and half hidden under a Jupiter Jim blanket.

“Dee-dee,” you tried again. He sighed, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself. You rubbed at your forehead, becoming more irritated with every passing second.

“Dude, just tell me why you’re being like this. I can’t fix anything if you don’t communicate,” you said. You took a deep breath in and let it out, trying to force your frustration out of you. Donnie finally uncurled his body, turning himself towards you.

“Why didn’t you tell me all that? About your hand, about... the Kraang?” Donnie said quietly. His hands were clenching and unclenching at his sides.

“You never asked,” you said, shrugging. Donnie turned his head away from you. You saw the muscles in his jaw clench.

“Hey, Dee-dee,” you said, touching his hand just gentle enough for him to be able to move away if he needed to. (He doesn’t.)

“Kraang zombies, amputation, near-death experiences, that’s not exactly easy topics of conversation to have with the dude you send memes to and study with,” you said, almost pleading.

Donnie pinched his mouth. He was hesitating, a million words at the tip of his tongue but nothing he was brave enough to say.

“I… I would like it to be,” Donnie said, still not looking at you. You tilted your head at him, not exactly sure what to say.

“Project Kappa Kappa, the Kraang–” Donnie shook his head, searching for words. He opened his hand, allowing you to touch his palm. He laced his fingers with yours, squeezing them gently, “The Kraang took something from me, too.”

You squeezed his hand back. His fingers were in between your flesh ones, your prosthetics left awkwardly to the side. Despite that, you found that your three-fingered hands manage to fit quite well together.

“Tell me,” you said softly, “if you want.”

Donnie gave you a nervous smile.

“I was connected to their spaceship as a part of a last-ditch plan to send them back into the prison dimension. They– they ripped me from the controls when I was still psychically connected,” He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, a nervous habit you both share. He kneaded at the back of your hand for comfort. Donnie let out a sad chuckle before continuing.

“I can’t focus the same way I used to. I can’t use any of my technology without headaches, even when I use my glasses. I’m not… useful the same way I was before the invasion,” he said.

Everything within you screamed to tell him he was wrong, that Donnie was perfectly capable the way he was, but you held your tongue. Donnie squeezed your hand one last and let it fall back into your lap. He looked up at you.

“That’s what Project Kappa Kappa is for. I’m going to circumvent the need to ‘see’ entirely and tap into the occipital lobe so I can interact with my screens in my mind’s eye.” Donnie smiled at you, nodding towards your hand. “The Kraang can’t keep affecting me if I rise above the problem, just like you.”

You returned Donnie’s smile, feeling your face grow slightly warm.

“Donnie, that’s amaz–” Donnie held up a finger to shush you. You quieted down, letting him have his soapbox.

(It was, in fact, incredibly difficult for you to stay quiet this long. You hoped that Donnie recognised your effort.)

“I want you to be my lab partner,” Donnie said. You looked at him with shock, but he continued on, “We obviously work well together and you have a surprising amount of expertise that I wasn’t even privy to before today. I believe that you’ll be instrumental in helping me complete this project.”

You honestly didn’t know what to say. This wasn’t just some CO2 car project you were partnering up for, this was personal.

You remembered when you woke up at the hospital with half your left hand missing. You remembered being numb as the doctors explained the experimental prosthetic surgery you were a good candidate for.

You remembered seeing your new hand for the first time and bawling, hating the ache, hating that anyone had their hands on you, hating that anyone had invaded your skin like that zombie had all that time ago.

You remembered being numb. Not talking, barely looking at the glint of metal beneath the bandages and compression garments.

So, yeah. You knew how big a deal it was for Donnie to ask you to help him with this.

You took Donnie’s hand into yours, bringing it close to your face.

“Othello Von Ryan, my fake boyfriend and second favorite pain in the ass, I would be honored to be your lab partner.”

Donnie gave you a crooked, uninhibited smile.

“Are you free Saturday?”

Chapter Text

“The general idea of Project Kappa Kappa is projecting images onto the mind’s eye and interacting with them using typical keyboards and other controls,” Donnie said. 

“Technologically controlled hallucinations, got it,” you said. Donnie stuck his tongue at you before continuing the overview of the project. You were sitting in one of Donnie’s plush gamer chairs lab chairs while he lectured at you about the research he’d done so far. 

You were dutifully taking notes on the project on your tablet while Donnie spoke. If you were going to do this with him, you were going to be well prepped. 

(You already had a few dozen tabs open on your laptop from a late-night research rabbit hole on the topic. New projects, especially ones not regarding your own prosthetic, were just exciting .)

“And this,” Donnie lifted a large sheet of paper up off the wall and started gesturing to the diagram beneath, “is the current focus of Project Kappa Kappa. It would be exceedingly difficult taking a direct route to tapping into the brain, so we’re gonna do what scientists do best.”

“Drink chemicals and write down what happens.”

Donnie shot out a metal arm to flick you in the head, but you dodged it.

“And you wonder why I bemoan your major,” Donnie said, shaking his head, “No, we’re going to reverse engineer the systems that are already present. If we can find a way to display a person’s thoughts onto a monitor, I’m confident we can backtrack through the process to display the monitor into a person’s thoughts.”

You chewed at your lip in thought. “How much dissecting is this process going to take?”

“That’s the beauty of it!” Donnie said with a huge grin, “No dissecting necessary. I’ve already built a device, the Neural-Sweeper, that we’ll use to map out the brain to be able to quote unquote ‘hook-up’ the program using non-invasive electrical impulses.”

Donnie pulled down a projector screen seemingly out of nowhere out of the wall and tapped on his tech gauntlet to boot up the display. He started to sort through his blueprints as he explained how the process would pan out. You nodded along, recognizing some of the theory from your classes.

“That’s going to be a very specific brain map, you’ll be the only one able to use PKK,” you said, “You’d need an insane database of brain scans to make it general use.”

“Well, yes and no,” Donnie said.

“Oh?”

“I was hoping that you would be my beta tester as we test the effectiveness of the NS. My design is based on the human brain, so I would like a baseline to account for my mutation messing up the specs of my equipment,” Donnie explained, “There’s not very many case studies on yokai brain structures, unsurprisingly.”

You hummed in response. You didn’t really consider if Donnie’s brain was built differently than yours. Which, honestly, makes sense with the whole ‘mutant turtle’ thing.

(You wondered if Donnie would let you take an MRI of his brain… for neuroscience reasons.)

“How badly is this going to mess up my hair?” you asked.

“Scoff, as if it isn’t already a mess,” he teased.

You mock-gasped.

“Let a man see your neurons and this is how he treats you? I should’ve listened to my mother.”

“You’re derailing my presentation,” Donnie said, flapping his hands at you. You stuck your tongue out, but kept your mouth shut.

“Now, the goal for the day is to get a preliminary trial on the Neural Sweeper as well as initial feedback on the comfortability of the device. I’ll be monitoring the input, so you’ll be responsible for research and initial ideas on how to backtrack through synapses in the meantime,” Donnie said. He clasped his hands together, signaling that he was done with the presentation. 

(His tail was wagging, which you thought was awfully cute. You’d probably be this giddy if someone let you lecture them about your projects.)

“Alright, let’s get started then,” you said, standing up from your chair, “What’s first?”

“I need to go retrieve NS and my monitoring equipment, you go ahead and set yourself up at one of my desks,” Donnie said. He took off for one of the side rooms after you gave him a double thumbs up.

You dragged your backpack over to Donnie’s desk, setting your tablet down on the desktop and pulling out your laptop. 

You shivered a bit, rubbing your arms to regain some heat. The lair was a lot chillier than you had expected and the cold was starting to get to you. You didn’t bring that many layers when you came over to work with Donnie, it had been a weirdly warm day for the middle of November.

You spotted a familiar bundle of purple fabric cast aside on one of Donnie’s work tables. You had a moment of hesitation before taking it, but another uncontrollable shiver had made your mind up for you. You pulled Donnie’s hoodie over your head, sighing for the respite against the cold.

The fabric was incredibly soft and lush and had you humming with contentment. You settled back into your spot at the desk, booting up your laptop and pulling up your tabs of research. You clicked on your Spotify and started playing your study playlist. 

(The playlist was a brainchild that you and Donnie had put together for maximum efficiency while working. It was truly the only way to stop the bickering over music in your dorm.)

You managed to get all of your ideas and links condensed into a chart when you heard a clattering behind you. You flipped your head around, seeing Donnie picking up a rectangular metal box off of the floor and gathering the wires that had scattered themselves.

“You good?”

Donnie looked up at you, flushed, and returned back to cleaning his things off the floor. “I, uh– yes. Splendid.” You shrugged him off, returning back to your chart. 

Donnie set the box, assumedly the Neural-Sweeper, on the desk and walked away to grab one of the rolling carts interspersed throughout the lab. The monitor on the cart creaked threateningly, but remained surprisingly in place during the ride.

Donnie started to hook up his equipment, casting glances at you but quickly looking away. You ignored the action, knowing that Donnie would speak up sooner or later.

“Do I need to increase the temperature of the lab?” Donnie asked. His voice sounded a little strained.

You paused your typing. You realized that you never actually asked Donnie if you could borrow his hoodie. You’ve lived with May for so long that sharing clothes was just a fact of life, you didn’t think about Donnie having some hang ups about it. 

“Oh, sorry Dee, you can take your hoodie back,” you said, making a motion to pull it over your head.

“You don’t need to!” Donnie said, waving his hands so you would stop, “I would just hate for you to be uncomfortable during our research. My brothers and I tend to keep things a bit cooler in the lair.”

“Well, if you don’t mind me stealing your style for a minute, the temperature is just fine,” you said. 

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Donnie said, “It is all good in the Donnie-hood.”

“Cool, cool,” you said. You noticed he was holding what looked like a metal strainer with different colored bulbs and wires attached to semi-translucent squares, his hands curling around it, “Is that what’s going on my head?”

“Ah, yes!” Donnie said, remembering himself, “Will you allow me to place the sensors?”

“Have at it.”

You pushed your hair back from your forehead just long enough for Donnie to place the main helmet on your head. He gently started to attach the squares on your head, stroking each applique with circular motions to ensure a good connection with your skin.

It was almost like a scalp massage. If scalp massages were scientific and involved wires sticking every which way out of your head.

(You were, admittedly, a bit touch starved. Maybe you’d get May to hold you when you got back to the dorm.)

Donnie pressed the last sensor on the back of your neck and pulled away from you.

“Alright, do let me know if you experience any itching or other discomfort during the duration of the scan,” he said as he started to boot up the NS.

“You got it,” you said with a thumbs up. 

The two of you sat in relative quiet, listening to the study playlist as you both worked on your respective tasks. Every so often you would hear Donnie scribbling a quick note on the thick spiral notebook he had for Project Kappa Kappa. You’ve told Donnie many times, but he was an excellent study partner. He could so effortlessly stay on task that it made your hamster brain do the same.

Parallel play, man. It helped the world go round. 

The sensors weren’t pleasant to have on your skin, but not too terribly bad, either. The sensation reminded you of having gems glued onto your face or wearing false eyelashes.

You started to tap along to the music once one of your favorite songs began to play. Donnie let out a noise of questioning, but said nothing. You let him be, instead choosing to annotate a paper you found on a theorized dream recording device from Stanford.

Donnie was certainly not the first person who wanted to be able to project thoughts onto a screen, but he seemingly was the first that wanted to do the opposite. His research must’ve taken years, certainly at least a chunk of it devoted to the Neural-Sweeper. The NS wasn’t even the end product of this project and it was already an impressive feat of technology. 

(You had half a mind to tell Donnie to patent it and sell it for millions, but something told you that he had already explored that.)

You highlighted a particularly interesting section on the use of MRI technology and linked it back to the chart with a note. Donnie let out a soft and unexpected chirp that had you raising an eyebrow at him. 

“I have a hypothesis”, he said, flushing a little.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms, “Do share.”

“I believe that it would affect the control if I told you, no?” he said, “Do me a favor and play that one song you won’t stop terrorizing me with.” You shot him a grin but quickly schooled your face to be neutral.

“But the sanctity of the study playlist,” you said in faux outrage. Donnie flapped a hand in your direction.

“Don’t be facetious, this is for science.”

You shrugged, pulling up your playlist and obeying Donnie’s directions. He turned his attention away from you and back to the monitor. He put a hand to his chin and stared intently at the screen, humming in thought.

“Now play ‘Baby Shark’,” he ordered.

“I would literally rather die.”

“I will make sure that happens if you keep interrupting my data collection,” Donnie snarked back. You groaned, but was compliant with his request. You felt yourself becoming immediately irritated with the first notes of the song. 

“May’s going to judge my listening activity and it's your fault,” you whined at Donnie.

“You manage that quite well by yourself, sweetums.”

You stuck your tongue out at him. Donnie without even looking at you, lobbed a scrunched up paper ball directly at your head. You couldn’t duck without detaching the sensors from your head, so you just had to sit and accept your fate.

(While listening to ‘Baby Shark.” This was nothing less than torture.)

“Huh… interesting,” Donnie said, beginning to type rapidly on his keyboard.

“Interesting enough to share?”

“I will once I form a more concrete hypothesis,” Donnie said, “You can turn the music off now. I think we’ve hit our stopping point for today.”

“Thank god,” you said. You had never paused a song so quickly in your life.

With a few final clicks of his mouse, Donnie moved from his station and began to help you remove the sensors.

“Tell me about what you’ve found so far, if you don’t mind,” Donnie said. You winced as he removed a particularly stuck sensor from your forehead. Donnie gave you a sheepish smile in apology.

“Mostly I was familiarizing myself with the work you had already done and putting it into a chart with all my research, but I found a few studies from Stanford’s sleep lab that seemed promising,” you said, doing your best not to yelp from the removal, “MIT also had an article on using muscle grafts as nerve signal amplifiers that I was just getting to. It looked like they were trying to imitate some of the Kraang tech, but it apparently broadens the amount of control they were able to get out of prosthetics.”

Donnie nodded while he listened, removing the last of the sensors, “Excellent work, do you mind sharing that document with me?”

“Already in your inbox, Dee,” you said.

“Oh, fantastic! You really are a breath of fresh air to work with,” Donnie said, beaming. His free hand fluttered against his thigh in soft smacks, a stim you’ve come to register as the Donnie equivalent of a dog wagging its tail.

“Not too bad yourself,” you said, “It’s nice not being the only competent person in the room.”

Donnie snorted while rolling his eyes, “You get me.” 

He gathered the NS and placed it on the cart. You took the cue to start packing up your things.

“It’s getting late, do you want me to have Leo portal you home?” Donnie said after glancing at his tech-gauntlet.

“Or we could watch a movie,” you said, “I’ll even let you pick it.”

“You have a 9 am tomorrow and it’s already 11 pm,” Donnie said, looking at you blankly.

“Bad bitches don’t need sleep.”

“Well,” Donnie began, looking back to his tech gauntlet, “I’ve already texted Leo and he’s on his way.”

You groaned, flopping across the desk chair with your arm over your face, “You’re evil and I hate you.”

“Well, you’re going to bed, sweetums,” Donnie said, mock-cooing, “I’ll consider next time if you manage to sleep more than an average of six hours per night this week.”

“Stalking my wellness apps, that’s a new low, Dee-dee,” you said. You were practically hanging off your chair at this point. Donnie took advantage of the strange weight distribution to knock the chair over with a single kick. You fell to the ground with a thud.

“No, you’re at a new low,” Donnie said as he stood over you. You blew a strand of hair out of your face, looking up at him with a scowl. In one quick move, you had taken Donnie’s legs out from under him and had a palm to the back of his head, pushing his face into the floor.

“I think we should know better about picking fights, darling,” you crooned into his ear. His robot arms sprouted from his back and were about to make their attack as Leo interrupted the two of you.

“Should I be concerned about how quickly you sent Donnie to the floor?” Leo said from the doorway.

“Only if you feel like testing me, Leonardo,” you said. Leo walked over and offered you a hand to get up. You patted Donnie’s head before accepting.

(Donnie growled a little in annoyance, causing you to laugh.)

“Noted,” he said, “Did you get a chance to listen to that playlist I sent you?”

You brushed some lab detritus off of your clothes, “Ooo, yes, I quite liked the hair bands.”

Leo wriggled excitedly and started talking about a documentary he’d watched recently about the musical progression of punk to glam rock. You nodded as Leo talked, but noticed Donnie still on the floor. He seemed quite content, to be honest, and was scrolling through his phone. 

“Friday, Dee?” you said, turning back around for just a second before you let Leo’s chatter take over your full attention.

Donnie shot you a quick smile before turning back to his phone, “Obvs.”

You gave Donnie a wide grin and turned back around to listen to Leo’s glam rock favorite of the week, the two of you walking out of the lab doors together.

–

QuarkedUp: Dude I totally just stole your hoodie

QuarkedUp: If you want you can send Leo back to grab it real quick

BootyShaker9000: Eh.

BootyShaker9000: You can keep it for the time being, there is no urgency for me to have it in my possession. I can retrieve it Friday. 

QuarkedUp: as long as you’re okay with my cooties all over it

BootyShaker9000: Oh god, whatever shall I do? Unprecedented exposure to nerd germs is one of the leading causes of turtle deaths.

QuarkedUp: I resent that label

BootyShaker9000: I resent your face.

BootyShaker9000: Go to bed, dum-dum.

QuarkedUp: ugh, fine /dad/

BootyShaker9000: :)

—

You weren’t going to fall asleep in his hoodie. That’s not what friends do. That’s what–

That’s not what you were going to do.

But you were bone-tired climbing into your bed and it was soft. 

You found yourself wrapped in Donnie’s smell in the morning anyways, incredibly lax, blushing, and confused about the whole thing.

Chapter Text

BootyShaker9000: What do you suppose is the line for caffeine-induced hallucinations?

BootyShaker9000: Because I’m at six cups of coffee and I have yet to quote unquote “see god.”

QuarkedUp: Donnie

QuarkedUp: What the fuck

BootyShaker9000: Is this suddenly not a safe space?

BootyShaker9000: I’m conducting SCIENCE!

BootyShaker9000: Oh… I believe I just tasted colors.

QuarkedUp: I’m texting Leo so he can force you to drink water.

BootyShaker9000: He can’t catch me iM TOO FAST

BootyShaker9000: SPEED, I AM SPEED

QuarkedUp: jesus christ

—

BootyShaker9000: Snitches, my dear friend, get stitches.

QuarkedUp: Oh, you’re out of timeout?

BootyShaker9000: I resent that.

QuarkedUp: <3

BootyShaker9000: I /will/ find your old wattpad account.

QuarkedUp: I’d seriously like to see you try

—

QuarkedUp: I fell asleep to youtube videos and woke up to a breakdown the entire FNAF timeline

QuarkedUp: Which I'm positive wouldn't have happened if you stopped GUNKING UP MY DATA WITH YOUR NERD SHIT

BootyShaker9000: It is not my fault you insist on using your laptop to create background noise while we work.

QuarkedUp: It /is/ your fault for having the interests of a 14-year-old boy in 2018

BootyShaker9000: You take that back.

QuarkedUp: You'll find that I won't <3

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

BootyShaker9000: It's not your Wattpad, but I did find your DeviantArt.

QuarkedUp: NO

QuarkedUp: DO NOT LOOK DONATELLO I SWEAR TO GOD

BootyShaker9000: You'll find that I do what I want. <3

QuarkedUp: GAH

—

BootyShaker9000: What is the draw of listening to 50’s and 60’s pop?

BootyShaker9000: I know you detest modern pop music, I fail to see any significant difference between the genre past and present. 

QuarkedUp: stalking my spotify i see

BootyShaker9000: It’s for data collection, please be compliant.

QuarkedUp: your mom was plenty pliant for me last night

QuarkedUp: got em

BootyShaker9000: I have two fathers.

QuarkedUp: and no sense of humour

QuarkedUp: idk, part of it is the lack of autotune on music pre-70’s that gives it more of a raw quality that i enjoy

QuarkedUp: You know I bust down with some modern stuff so I definitely have exceptions

QuarkedUp: Also that era wasn’t super far removed from big band so it still has that -zest-

BootyShaker9000: I don’t know how to quantify quote unquote “zest” into my research.

QuarkedUp: I’m sure you’ll manage

QuarkedUp: the other part of it is the old love songs just hit different

BootyShaker9000: Please elaborate.

QuarkedUp: hmm

QuarkedUp: its like hozier’s music

QuarkedUp: every emotion feels much more visceral and deep 

QuarkedUp: It’s like dancing at the kitchen at 2 am while making food with your person vs shaking ass with a stranger at a club

QuarkedUp: both can be good, I just have a preference most days

BootyShaker9000: mmm

BootyShaker9000: I have zero clue how to add your input to my data, but thank you for your participation.

QuarkedUp: anytime bugaboo

BootyShaker9000: Oh, I do /not/ like that moniker.

QuarkedUp: *babycakes

QuarkedUp: *babe-a-roni?

QuarkedUp: *babybel cheese

BootyShaker9000: …are you finished?

BootyShaker9000: Also, I will be around in an hour for PKK brainstorming.

QuarkedUp: :D 

QuarkedUp: cant wait to see my little barometer

BootyShaker9000: :[

—

The familiar sound of your window sliding open had you grinning and spinning your desk chair around. 

“Greetings!”

“Salutations,” Donnie said, climbing in your window with a tupperware in hand. You got up and shut the window quickly behind him, doing your best to keep the rain from soaking your entire floor.

It had been raining cats and dogs since mid-afternoon, you were a little surprised Donnie even made the trip.

(It certainly would’ve made you cancel, but you were biased. Large weather systems always make your hand ache.)

“Yikes, I’m going to get you a towel,” you said, taking in Donnie’s dripping form. He stripped off his outer layer and hung it on your bedpost. His shoes soon followed suit, ending up kicked off and forming a puddle on your floor.

You stared at him with a towel in your hand, unimpressed. Donnie grinned sheepishly.

“I bring offerings?” he placated. Your expression didn’t change. Donnie sighed, “Don’t kill me, I’ll clean up.”

You nodded in acceptance, trading the towel for Donnie’s tupperware. You cracked open the lid as Donnie started to mop up his mess. The cookies had thick chunky sugar baked into the tops of them and were tinted slightly purple.

“Are these… lavender sugar cookies?” you asked. You set the container down on your desk so you could grab a few.

“Mikey’s been experimenting,” Donnie said, “Leo spilled the metaphorical beans on your existence, so Mike insisted that I take you some.”

You tentatively bit into a cookie. Tears started to form at the corners of your eyes at the first taste.

“Oh my god,” you said, shoving the rest of the cookie into your mouth, “Thih ish the besh cookie I’ve ever had.”

“I’ll send my regards to the chef,” Donnie said, looking amused.

You shoved another cookie into your mouth and washed it down with some lukewarm tea.

“Holy shit,” you said, taking a deep breath, “Is Mikey single? Does he need a doting partner to rub his shoulders and eat his cooking?”

Donnie snorted, “He’s decidedly aro-ace, but I’m sure he would be flattered.”

Donnie dragged over May’s chair to your desk and enabled his robot arms to set up shop. His laptops and notebooks crowded out what little free space you had.

“Can you text him that I love him right now?” you asked, “Let him know all of my best attributes. He doesn’t need to love me back, I just need him to know that he’s my favorite person ever.”

“Best attributes? Like your unfortunate taste for brill pop and bad punk songs? Your inability to sleep more than six hours?” Donnie asked as he settled down in his seat. You stuck your tongue out at him, walking over to turn your kettle on.

“I was thinking more about my amazing personality and taste in movies, but I’m glad to know you hold such affection for me, Donnie,” you teased. You pulled out your (thankfully clean) mugs and put a bag of green tea into both. Two cubes of sugar for Don, a spoonful of honey into yours.

“I find your presence …less grating than others,” Donnie teased. You rolled your eyes at him. You poured hot water into both cups and gave the contents a quick stir.

Donnie had, unfortunately, convinced you to give up coffee after 6 pm. It became almost a ritual for the two of you to make tea for each other as you worked on your projects into the night.

You set the mugs on your desk, pushing Donnie’s notebooks slightly out of the way to make room. Donnie raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored it in favor of sitting down.

“Alright hotshot, tell me about the impulse adapter you emailed me about.”

The two of you sat at your desk for what seemed like hours discussing Project Kappa Kappa. You had spent the last week using your free time to draw up as many preliminary designs and conduct as much research as possible. You and Donatello were like an oil mine and a gas fire: drawing out the biggest and brightest ideas out of each other.

(It also really helped that this project was productive procrastination for you. Your assignments couldn’t touch you if you were taking notes on scholarly articles.)

“I think we’ll be able to start building a prototype soon, we should be able to start constructing the PKK’s circuitry based off the preliminary scans from last time,” Donnie said.

“Eh, are you sure we’re not jumping the gun here?” you asked, “I think we should work on the design a little more until I can be back at the lab for another scan sesh.”

“How will we know the design works if we don’t get a few test trials going? That way we can troubleshoot and get the scan at the same time.”

“That’s a lot of things on mi cabeza, Dee-dee,” you said.

Donnie gave you a shit-eating grin, lifting his mug to his mouth so he could finish his tea, “It’s just so big, how could we not utilize this advantage?”

You gave him a blank look, half-tempted to knock him out of his seat.

You were about to retort with something equally as snarky when you heard your roommate talking to a friend outside of the door. You blanched, looking at Donnie while he slurped loudly from his mug.

“Shit, shit, Donnie you have to go,” you said. He looked at you quizzically while you gathered up his books and papers to put into his battle shell. 

“My roommate is here!” you whisper yelled. Donnie looked even more confused. You grabbed the mug from his hands and set it on the desk, pushing him towards your window.

“I’ve met May before, why would that be a problem?” he asked.

“Yes, but not while you’re a giant turtle!” You heard May fumble with her keys. “Dude, get a move on!” 

Donnie gave you an odd, neutral expression. He nodded silently, following your orders and leaving through the window. You let out a small sigh of relief, watching the window close behind him right as May entered the room.

—

QuarkedUp: Did you make it home alright?

QuarkedUp: I’m sorry we had to cut our brainstorming sesh short, I should have the dorm tomorrow night if you wanna come over again

BootyShaker9000: I am home. I have plans tomorrow.

QuarkedUp: dang

QuarkedUp: Usual schedule then?

BootyShaker9000: Okay.

—

QuarkedUp sent a photo

QuarkedUp: Another win for the chem kids

—

QuarkedUp sent a video

QuarkedUp: you would not BELIEVE what the engineering frat just got up to

—

QuarkedUp: You wouldn’t happen to be well versed in thermodynamics, would you?

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

QuarkedUp: Grazie

— 

QuarkedUp: Quiz Friday?

QuarkedUp: 7 ish

BootyShaker9000: Affirmative

–

You were waiting nervously at your desk for Donnie to stop by your dorm. He had been ignoring your texts or only giving you one word answers all week.

(You’d even found his old Minecraft playthroughs on Youtube and didn’t even get a chance to tease him about it. It was killing you.)

You hated to say it, but you missed your buddy. Donnie had spent the last couple months becoming an inexorable part of your weekly routine and, quite frankly, you didn’t know what to do with yourself without him. 

It was a little embarrassing, honestly, how difficult you found it to get your work done without Donnie haunting the corner of your dorm or sending you little snippets throughout the day. 

A tapping sound at your window jarred you from your thoughts. Instead of a giant turtle, you found yourself face to face with a purple drone hovering on the other side of the windowpane. You opened your window, letting the drone in.

“Yo, what’s up dude?” he said, “I’m here to deliver a textbook. I assume this is the right place?”

“Uhh, yeah?” you said. You took your textbook from the drone, incredibly confused, “Who are you? And where’s Donnie? I thought he was going to come today.”

“I’m Shelldon 2.0! Pleasure to meet you,” he said, extending one of his turbines in greeting. You shook it gently, not wanting to knock Shelldon out of the air.

“Nice to meet you too,” you said, “Are you… sentient?”

“Not according to the United States government I’m not!” he said with a backflip to flourish his sentence. You couldn’t help but be charmed by this little guy.

“Can I get you something? Like, I don’t know, oil? A charger?” you asked. You were really out of your depths here. You’ve never had to host a drone before.

“No thanks, Donnie said this was a ‘speed run’ mission. I’ll be dropping this book off and scooting,” Shelldon said. He tilted to the side, dropping the textbook into your arms, and made for the window.

“Wait!” you called out. Shelldon stopped just outside your window and spun back around to face you. You shivered at the cold air from your window, but trudged forward.

“I really hate to push, little dude, but can you please tell me what’s going on with Donnie? He’s been giving me the cold shoulder all week,” you pleaded. Shelldon rocked back and forth in midair, seemingly thinking about your question.

“Master Donatello… isn’t in a great mood these past few days,” he answered

“Yeah, no kidding,” you snorted. Shelldon let out an electronic hum, seemingly chiding you.

“It all started…” he paused to think, “Monday night. He locked himself in the lab and wouldn’t talk to anybody, not even me. Except tonight, I guess, when he asked me to deliver your textbook.”

“Last Monday night? That’s the last time I...,” realization dawned on you, “Shit, this is definitely my fault.”

“Yikes dude. I’d go get that figured out with Donnie. He’s not happy, whatever you did,” Shelldon said. His tone became more serious, a large shift from the initial carefree demeanor.

“I’ll get on that,” you said, giving him a tired smile, “Thank you for enlightening me.”

“Anytime, I’m gonna get going now,” he said, turning away from you, “You seem chill, but the drone races wait for no one.”

You waved Shelldon off, closing your window and wrapping yourself in a blanket as quickly as possible. You scrambled for your phone, tapping on Donnie’s contact.

–

BootyShaker9000 was unavailable for a call

BootyShaker9000 was unavailable for a call

QuarkedUp: I’m not gonna leave a million missed call notifications on your phone so I guess I’ll just do this over text

QuarkedUp: Shelldon spilled the beans

QuarkedUp: As much as I want to yell at you for avoiding me for a week, I’ve obviously upset you and I want to know how to fix it

BootyShaker9000: I’m busy.

QuarkedUp: Can’t we at least talk about this? Or set a time to have a conversation?

BootyShaker9000: I really don’t want to do this with you right now.

QuarkedUp: What happened to wanting to be the type of friends that talk about the shit we went through, man?

QuarkedUp: Or at least /have/ open communication

QuarkedUp: Please don't ice me out like this

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: As you wish.

BootyShaker9000: I’ll be over in approximately 10 minutes.

QuarkedUp: Alright, window is unlocked when you get here

—

Donnie appeared at your window in his human form. He crawled through silently with a scowl on his face. The sight had… taken you aback. Not gonna lie.

“What’s with the image transducer? I thought it was still busted,” you asked. Donnie’s face made a pinched look. 

“Oh, I thought I was only suitable to be in your presence while in human form,” he said, sounding hurt. 

Now you were really confused.

“Dude, literally when have I said that?”

“Oh?” He said, his voice going high, “Do you not recall the moment last week when you pushed me out of your window?”

You blinked at him.

“My roommate was coming in,” you deadpanned.

Donnie shook his head, letting out an exasperated sound, “This was a waste of my time.”

 He turned around to leave out the window. In a panic, you ran over to Donnie, grabbing his wrist.

“Donnie, wait!” you said. He looked at you, pulling his wrist out of your grasp. You backed up, putting your hands up in surrender. “I don’t– you don’t honestly think that I’m ashamed of you, do you?”

“Scoff, whatever gave you that impression?” Dee said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. He stared at the ground, pointedly looking away from you, "I was unsuitable to be in your dorm with other people when I was a giant turtle, your words."

You finally understood where you went wrong on Monday.

“This isn’t a me being weirded out by the whole mutant thing," you attempted to clarify, "I genuinely just... didn’t know how May would react to you being in her room."

Donnie’s shoulders lowered slightly from where they were raised, but he still looked hesitant.

You let your arms hang to your sides, unsure of what to do with your hands. (You were so, so aware of what your body language looked like. You hated it.)

You sighed, trudging forward with your point, “You're my friend, Donnie. One of my closest ones, if I'm being honest. I'm not ashamed of you, I was trying to spare you the spectacle of her freaking out. I’m sorry I didn’t communicate that better.”

Donnie sighed, finally raising his head to look at you, “I… suppose that makes sense.”

“Yeah, man,” you said as you carded your hand through your hair. The panic from the conflict started to ebb out of your body, “I wish you talked to me about this before you spent a week ignoring my memes.”

Donnie snorted, giving you a shy smile.

“I… apologize for making assumptions and acting so coldly,” he said, dropping his arms, “My hackles got raised when I thought you had been a bigot this entire time.”

“Ah, yes, I spent all my Friday evenings and weekends with you because I simply just detest you and all of Yokai kind,” you deadpanned.

“You’re not unprejudiced just because you have one mutant friend, Dum-dum,” Donnie chided. He was grinning now. Well, the two of you were grinning at each other like crazy people. Warmth bloomed in your chest.

The sheer relief of falling back into easy banter with Donnie was insurmountable.

“I think I’m prejudiced because that one mutant friend is you, Dee-dee,” you teased. Donnie laughed and had you in a headlock in five seconds flat. He gave you a noogie, despite your protests and struggles.

“You would get banned from Twitter for saying that,” Donnie said. You blew a raspberry at him. Donnie gave you a final rub on your head and released you from his hold. You flipped around and trapped him in a hug. A risky move on Donatello, you know, but you were relieved when he returned the affections.

“I am sorry, though,” you said into his sweatshirt, “I 100% didn’t handle that situation properly, I’ll try to get a read on May the next time I see her so you don’t have to worry about the image transducer when she’s around.”

“You have a lot more concern for me than warranted,” Donnie said. He tapped your shoulder, signaling his desire to be released from the hug. “You do know that I’m a ninja, right?”

You let go of Donnie and stepped back, “Ninjas have feelings, too”

“Not the way I do it,” he said. You stuck your tongue out at him.

Donnie decided to climb onto your bed and start setting up your pillows in that specific arrangement of his. 

“I demand reparations in the form of a movie night,” Donnie said.

“Well that’s hardly fair,” you said, moving to turn on your kettle to make some hot chocolate, “I’d say that this was a mutual conflict.”

You turned back around to see Donnie about to throw a pillow at you. You gave him the biggest stink-eye you could muster until he backed down, falling backwards on your bed in defeat. You snorted. 

“How about this, I’ll let you pick the Jupiter Jim movie we watch,” Donnie said. He popped his head up to look at you from where he was laying, “You should know that this is me being very kind and forgiving.”

That had you laughing. You shook your head and smiled while you stirred hot cocoa mix into two matching mugs. 

(They were a gift from May to celebrate ‘the happy couple.’ You didn’t have the heart to correct her anymore.)

“That’s even ruder, Dee-dee, you know we’re going in chronological order,” you said. You handed the mugs to Donnie so you could set up the projector.

“Oh, we are, aren’t we?” he said, “That must’ve slipped my mind during our brief hiatus.”

“Oh I’m sure,” you said. You grabbed your laptop and hopped on your bed, doing your best not to shake the mugs.

You took the sight of him in. Lax and content while sprawled over his side of the bed and sipping happily at his mug. He had his favorite of your squishmallows tucked under his arm and nestled against him. 

(Your heart clenched weirdly. )

“I missed you, Dee-dee,” you said softly.

Donnie looked at you and grinned. He handed you your mug and took your laptop from you to log into the streaming service.

“I missed you, too,” he said. In a rare act of unprompted physical affection, Donnie took your hand and squeezed. 

“Mmm, okay, that’s enough emotions. Movie now,” you said after squeezing Donnie’s hand and releasing it. Donnie laughed and placed the laptop in between the two of you. You pressed the spacebar to start the movie.

“I have never agreed more.”

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp: The sweet allure of a spray bottle with a flammable label and my lighter is calling to me

BootyShaker9000: Record it.

QuarkedUp: I knew there was a reason I kept you around

QuarkedUp sent a video

QuarkedUp: LET THERE BE LIGHT

BootyShaker9000: You look insane.

QuarkedUp: I feel a little insane to be honest

QuarkedUp: but i am free

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

QuarkedUp: why are you sending me my university’s mental health resources

BootyShaker9000: No reason in particular.

–

QuarkedUp: I KNEW THE SQUIRRELS ON CAMPUS WERE FUCKED UP

BootyShaker9000: Good morning to you, too.

BootyShaker9000: Why are the squirrels on campus “fucked up”?

QuarkedUp: THE FUCKGIN

QuarkedUp: the behavioral science department

QuarkedUp: they kidnap them

QuarkedUp: and run tests on them

BootyShaker9000: That sounds like a study on squirrel behavior.

QuarkedUp: are you??? on the side of the behavioral sciences??? my sworn enemy???

BootyShaker9000: Hey, sweetums?

QuarkedUp: Yes, dear?

BootyShaker9000: How much caffeine have you consumed in the last 24 hours?

QuarkedUp: the

QuarkedUp: the normal amount

BootyShaker9000: Mmmm.

BootyShaker9000: I’m sending Shelldon down there.

BootyShaker9000: If you do not cease the caffeine consumption in favor of some water, I have authorized him to use a controlled EMP to disable your devices.

QuarkedUp: :0

QuarkedUp: I will remember this, Vomitello

BootyShaker9000: Consider it payback for last week. <3

QuarkedUp: I WILL REMEMBER :[

–

BootyShaker9000: Are you free to come down to the lair later?

QuarkedUp: Really wish I could, but I have an essay I have to handle

BootyShaker9000: Understandable. Send it over if you want me to edit it.

QuarkedUp: Will do :) 

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a link

BootyShaker9000: Are you familiar with Keto-enol tautomerization?

QuarkedUp sent a link

QuarkedUp: Here’s my ochem lecture that covered it, I can explain it more in depth when I take a break for lunch

BootyShaker9000: Grazie. 

—

QuarkedUp: Hey Siri, is it possible for my eyes to start bleeding after looking at a computer screen for too long?

BootyShaker9000: Should I be concerned?

QuarkedUp: depends on the preferred threshold of mental wellbeing 

BootyShaker9000: Oh boy. 

BootyShaker9000: Remind me to never enroll into a university.

Quarkedup: oh you know youd love it

—

BootyShaker9000: Mikey accidentally purchased an extra ticket for the Jupiter Jim showing tonight, would you like to tag along?

QuarkedUp: Donnie, I love you, but I have to spend the next 48 hours on my biomed project or I will actually fail out of my class

BootyShaker9000: Ah, no probbles.

BootyShaker9000: Perhaps next time.

QuarkedUp: totes

—

BootyShaker9000: Is there a reason why you’ve sent me 20 Tiktoks in the past five minutes?

QuarkedUp: its a coping mechanism

QuarkedUp: appreciate them

BootyShaker9000: How much more work do you have on the project?

QuarkedUp: i will steal your fucking dabloons

BootyShaker9000: The economy is already crashed, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: NOOOO

QuarkedUp: MY FUCKING DABLOONS

—

You clicked out of another fruitless search on your laptop, rubbing your eyes. You’ve known about this project since the beginning of the semester, why did you only start on it last week?

(You knew why. Latent ADHD. There were only so many things that Adderall could fix.)

You cursed under your breath and took a sip of your cold coffee. You were at the point of calculating how badly you could do on this project and still pass the class. All you needed was a 72 and you’d be golden.

…You weren’t even halfway done yet.

You were startled out of your self-pity by a familiar knock at your window. Donnie sat on the windowsill with an anxious smile and a plastic bag in his hand. You rushed over to unlock the window and open it, helping Donnie step into your room.

“Dee, what are you doing here? I thought you were at the Jupiter Jim showing,” you asked. You could smell your favorite take out in Donnie’s bag. You were practically salivating. Donnie must’ve noticed the hunger in your eyes as he passed over the bag immediately. You resisted every urge to tear into it that moment. 

Manners, you know?

“I gave my ticket to April so she could bring her girlfriend along,” Donnie said, “I suspected that you were working yourself to death, so I came to prevent your untimely demise.”  He made a gesture towards the bag, giving you the okay to start eating. You could’ve kissed him right there.

You walked over to your beanbags and sat the plastic bag on the milk crate you and May used as a coffee table. You handed Donnie the container marked with a ‘D’ and started shoveling food into your mouth. You groaned around a mouthful of food. You’d had nothing but snacks and ramen for the past two days. 

Donnie watched you with a faint smile. He started to dig in as well, but in a more polite manner.

“I think I’m actually going to propose to you,” you said, mouth still half-full of food. Donnie snorted.

“You hold affection for me only because of the meals I provide,” Donnie snarked. You laughed, causing yourself to choke on a piece of food. Donnie smacked your back gently, trying to help you breathe again. You gave him a thumbs up once you could take a full breath. Donnie handed you a soda from his battle shell. 

(Also your favorite, you noted.)

“On a scale of 1 to 10, what are your tiredness levels?”

You groaned, the illusion of happiness bursting as you remembered your obligations, “I might actually pass away, Dee.”

Eastlaird’s final’s week, technically, goes until next Tuesday. All of your classes this semester just so happened to have all their final tests and projects due by this Wednesday. It was... a lot, to say the least.

“Please don’t, good help is just so hard to find these days,” Donnie said. You removed the tab from your soda and threw it at Donnie. He deflected it with ease. “Perhaps I could lift some of the weight off your shoulders?”

Your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Donnie, I literally cannot let you help with my project,” you said, “Ignoring academic integrity, I made my bed. Now I gotta lay in it.”

Donnie shrugged, taking another bite of food. He took a sip of his own soda before responding.

“I realized that part of the reason you are so behind this week is because you’ve been spending so much time assisting me with Project Kappa Kappa. Am I wrong?” he asked.

You looked away from him, taking another sip of your soda to avoid showing your thoughts on your face. As usual, Donnie was more perceptive than that. 

“Don’t kill yourself over your pride if I can help,” Donnie said. He put his hand on your knee, “Or, at the very least, assist you.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You’d been having stress dreams about this project for the past week. Here he sat, a solution to most of your issues served up on a purple platter. Donnie looked so earnest in his offer. 

(And he touched you. Willingly.)

(He’s been doing that a lot more.)

You would hate for Donnie to feel like he was being taken advantage of, you barely felt okay with asking him for physics help.

But he was right there, of his own accord, in your dorm room at 6 pm with dinner in hand when he was supposed to be watching his favorite movie series with his family.

(Your heart squeezed oddly when you thought about that too hard.)

You sighed, already resigning yourself to giving in. “I would, actually, really appreciate a second pair of eyes on my design before I go crazy.”

Donnie gave you a wide grin. He got up from his beanbag to nab your laptop off of your desk and settled himself back down, his robotic arm holding his drink the entire time.

“Say no more! You will have the most efficient…” Donnie paused, looking at your documents before continuing, “pacemaker schematics in all of history! I’ll look over your work as you finish dinner.”

“Words cannot express how much I appreciate you,” you said.

"I also accept tokens of admiration, especially ones with significant monetary value," Donnie said. You scrunched your nose at him, but he just look smug, "Now tell me why you're proposing the use of several different inert metals for electrodes."

You ate the rest of your dinner at a much more reasonable pace while you answered Donnie’s questions about your project. You didn't think Donnie would have as much comprehensive knowledge on implantable medical devices, but, as usual, you were proven wrong.

(A gizmo is a gizmo, you supposed.)

It was so refreshing to have real-life interaction with someone that wasn’t your roommate popping in and out of the dorm room at odd hours of the night.

You loved May, but goddamn. Art majors. They made you question your entire existence.

“So what else does this project entail? It looks like you have a pretty good handle on it so far,” Donnie asked once he reached the end of your write up. You rubbed your face with your hand and set your takeout container down on the milkcrate.

“I have to write 1500 words on how my design is, quote unquote, superior to others currently on the market in regards to effectiveness, material cost, longevity, yada yada,” you said, flapping your hand out as you spoke, “It’s just a lot of research and citations that I would literally rather eat a sneaker than do.”

Donnie’s eyes lit up.

“Fear not, my dear compatriot, as establishing superiority is #4 on ‘Donnie’s Top Activities’!” he exclaimed. He started typing rapidly on your laptop, “We will have 1500 words faster than you can say Newtonian Fluids.”

You snatched your laptop out of Donnie’s hands, much to his dismay.

“You can help, Dee-dee, not do my entire project for me,” you said, “I know you have your laptop with you, I’ll send the document over so we can work on it at the same time.”

Donnie pouted, but pulled out his laptop from his battle shell all the same.

You already knew that you and Donnie had insane chemistry as lab partners and this was no different. Instead of crying into a cup of ramen tonight as you had planned, Donnie had you snorting with laughter while you typed comfortably next to him. 

“Donnie, you cannot call someone a nimwit in an academic paper,” you laughed, doing your best to backspace his entry on the shared document.

“I can and I will,” he said. Donnie used a mechanical arm to try to pull your laptop away from you. You held on with all your might, doing your best to kick the arm away.

“Write your own damn paper then!” you said, almost wheezing from laughing so hard.

By nine, you had practically your entire project finished and double checked for mistakes. You closed out all of your tabs of research and let out a long breath, allowing relief to pass over you. Shutting your laptop for the time being, you turned your head to look at Donnie.

“During my entire college career, I have never once been able to turn in a final report a whole day early,” you said, “I might actually have time to shower before I have to study for my anatomy exam tomorrow.”

“That would be recommended as a public safety precaution,” he said.

“Scoff,” you said, getting up and kicking his leg as you passed him. Donnie chuckled, making a half-hearted attempt at swiping at your legs. You dodged him easily, making your way to your shower caddy.

“I can and will knock you out again, Donatello,” you warned. You pointed your shampoo bottle at him threateningly.

Donnie put up his hands in surrender, giving you a cheeky grin, “Noted.”

You rolled your eyes, putting a change of clothes into a bag. You took off your prosthetics, placing them on the charging station on your dresser.

(It would really suck having half a hand when you had to finish up your other assignments. You barely had enough time this week to let them get a full charge.)

“I’ll be back, help yourself to anything as per usual,” you said. Donnie waved you off, seemingly engrossed in an article he had found while helping you write your final report.

You turned away from him, shaking your head with amusement.

Nerd. 

—

You soon came back feeling incredibly refreshed to an upside down Donnie laying on your bed and drinking tea through a straw. A steaming mug of hot cocoa was waiting on your desk for you. You smiled, setting your shower caddy to the side, and went to grab a drink. The first sip of cocoa scared away that slight chill you always got from walking through the dorm hallways with wet hair.

“You don’t need to stay here all night, you know,” you said, “I pinky promise I won’t pass away if you go back home.”

Donnie took a loud drink out of his mug, draining it. He held the empty mug out to you, straw still in his mouth.

“Despite my absolute best efforts, I find myself enjoying your company,” he said. 

“You say just the nicest things, Dee-dee,” you said, taking the mug. He hummed, pulling out a worn paperback book and holding it open in one, three-fingered hand.

He looked remarkably cozy and part of you had an itch to join him, but you had work to do. You decided to forgo your prosthetics for a while to give your hand a break and to let them charge a little more.

With a sigh, you pulled out a notebook and pen and started redrawing diagrams from memory and checking back at your textbook to ensure that you didn’t miss any significant structures or labels. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel the need to put on music while you worked. The simple quiet of your pen scratching against paper and the rustling of Donnie turning a page was almost soothing.

If anything, it was a large departure from the panic and dread that usually haunts you during finals. 

(Or rather, is still haunting you. It’s just pushed to the background for now.)

Donnie closed his book and fell backwards off of your bed into a crouch, breaking that little bubble of peace. He stood up, dusting himself off. You stared at him, incredibly confused.

“Can I braid your hair?” he says, looking at you intently.

You stared at him blankly, “Uhh, what?”

“Your hair, may I braid it?”

You tilted your head at him, “...Go ahead?”

Donnie smiled, walking over to stand behind your chair. You turned your head back around, doing your best to keep it as straight as possible for Donnie while also being able to study. Donnie began to card his fingers through your hair and gently pulled out the few knots you had missed while you were in the shower.

You almost offered him a hairbrush, but the scalp massage felt too nice for you to do anything to make Donnie stop. You weren't shivering, but you felt...chills. You felt little vibrations snake down your spine for every scrape of his nails against your skin. If you were a cat, you'd be purring right now.

“Do you have a hair tie?” Donnie asked. 

You wordlessly passed Donnie the stray elastics that were floating around your desk. He used the edge of his fingernail to part your hair down the middle. Putting an elastic on one half of your hair, he started to braid the other.

“April taught me how to do her hair when we were kids,” Donnie said, gently parting and pulling the hair at the crown of your head, “It usually had a calming effect on her.”

You hummed, turning to another section in your textbook.

“Do I look particularly boisterous right now?” you asked.

“You look… strung out,” Donnie said, “Exhausted, to put into technical terms.”

You snorted, “Damn, you really know how to give a compliment, Dee.”

Donnie tugged the hair he had in his hand in warning, “You know what I mean, dum-dum.”

You blew air out of your nose, deciding it was unwise to pick a fight with someone in prime scalping position.

“You’re really going above and beyond tonight. What blood debt do I owe for a few hours of wholesome Donatello?”

Yeah, you were dumb. Not picking a fight lasted five seconds.

Donnie, thankfully, laughed. He tied off one braid and started to work on the other. The finished braid laid against the back of your neck, just damp enough to make you shiver.

“Is it too uncouth of me to worry about you?” Donnie asked.

“No, just… a bit unexpected, I guess,” you said. You reached up to touch your braid, but Donnie gently smacked your hand away and pushed the back of your head to straighten your posture.

“You’ve been holed up in this room since Thursday night, I think it should be expected,” Donnie chided.

“Stalking my location? I need to start working harder on stealing your data, Dee-dee.”

“You know what I mean,” Donnie said, not allowing you to make light of the situation, “I have my brothers to pull me out of laboratory ruts. May is gone all the time, I… worry about who takes care of you.”

Donnie finished up the second braid, tying it off the same way he did the first. You took the opportunity to turn your head around and face him.

“I am, in fact, a college aged and tax paying adult, you know?”

Donnie shrugged, “That doesn’t mean someone else helping you out is a crime, dum-dum.”

You hummed, bringing a hand up to feel your hair, much to Donnie's chagrin. It had been a long time since someone else had done your hair. The braids felt very even all the way through, something that didn’t surprise you.

“Well, you are welcome to braid my hair anytime, Donatello,” you said. Donnie shook his head, but stayed smiling. You could see his hands itching to stop you from messing with his handiwork.

“You’re impossible,” he said.

“I’ve been told I’m a delight,” you said. You bit the inside of your cheek, debating yourself, “But… I wouldn’t mind having someone quiz me with flashcards. If you’d be so inclined.”

Donnie beamed. He dragged May’s chair over to your desk in a practiced motion and sat down. He clasped his hands together in his lap, sitting not unlike an eager golden retriever.

“So, where do we start?”

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp sent a photo

QuarkedUp: What did you do to my hair, Donatello?

BootyShaker9000: Braided it?

BootyShaker9000: That is a /fantastic/ puff you have there.

QuarkedUp: Was this your plan all along? Throw me off my anatomy game with giant, wavy hair?

BootyShaker9000: You are throwing many bold accusations at me.

QuarkedUp: im about to throw these hands

BootyShaker9000: Put on a hat, you absolute primadonna.

QuarkedUp: …..

QuarkedUp: Are you, Donatello “Othello Von Ryan” Hamato, calling /me/ a primadonna?

BootyShaker9000: Yes.

QuarkedUp: you will face /reckoning/ by my hands

BootyShaker9000: :)

BootyShaker9000: Good luck on your anatomy exam, sweetums.

—

QuarkedUp: I just spilled an ENTIRE mug of tea on the floor

QuarkedUp: the mechies are watching me

QuarkedUp: they can smell weakness

BootyShaker9000: Wow that’s so sad, Alexa play ‘Despacito’.

QuarkedUp: :0

QuarkedUp: I do NOT

QuarkedUp: /SLAVE/ ALL DAY IN THE MINES

BootyShaker9000: You’re 20 and in college.

QuarkedUp: JUST TO GET HIT WITH A FREAKING DEAD MEME LIKE THIS

BootyShaker9000: I fail to see how it is different from when you do the exact same.

QuarkedUp: im cute and lovable

BootyShaker9000: You’re an ache in my gluteus maximus is what you are.

QuarkedUp: the gluteus maximus is an extensor muscle of the hip you fucking nerd

QuarkedUp: the ass is the maximus AND minimus

BootyShaker9000: Pot, I’m sure you’re acquainted with the kettle?

QuarkedUp: If I didn’t have a physics exam in like five minutes just know that I would deliver the most /heinous/ of insults right now.

BootyShaker9000: Oh, I’m sure.

BootyShaker9000: Good luck!

QuarkedUp: thanks vomitello :p

—

QuarkedUp: god gives his hardest battles (basic algebra) to his strongest soldiers (me, the goofiest goober)

BootyShaker9000: I’m assuming that went well?

QuarkedUp: had it not been for my engineering in medical applications final later today I would be abusing substances right now

BootyShaker9000: Yikes.

QuarkedUp: Yikes indeed, my dear comrade.

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a video

BootyShaker9000: I’m aware that you’re taking your test right now, but Mikey insisted that we send you a pick me up.

—

QuarkedUp: Tell Mikey that my proposal for a mutually beneficial and tax free marriage is still on the table

QuarkedUp: tell leo and raph that I love them too

QuarkedUp: and you’re pretty cool, i guess :p 

BootyShaker9000: And they’re alive!

BootyShaker9000: How did it go?

QuarkedUp: my brain is positively mush

QuarkedUp: but i am /officially/ done for the semester

BootyShaker9000: That’s wonderful!

BootyShaker9000: Any plans now that you’re free from the clutches of academia?

QuarkedUp: I was gonna go home this break, but it’s looking like I’m gonna be in the dorms until the family reunion for christmas

QuarkedUp: So... none yet

QuarkedUp: I’m going to need a solid three day breather from anything science if you’re trying to get me to work on PKK though

BootyShaker9000: Noted.

QuarkedUp: /but/ I am open to any hangouts after I sleep for approximately 20 hours

BootyShaker9000: Post-coma pizza and Mariokart?

QuarkedUp: oh /fuck/ yeah

QuarkedUp: your ass is grass, donathan

BootyShaker9000: I doubt that.

—

“Guess who has,” you started, spinning your chair around to face Donnie climbing in your window with a pizza box in hand, “eight fingers and a B in physics?”

“Hmm, all possible answers point to you, sweetums,” Donnie said as he closed the window behind him.

“Yes!” you said, pumping a fist into the air, “Final grades just dropped, I’m an actual genius.”

“You’re friends with an actual genius, more like,” Donnie said. You put up your fists.

“Right here right now, Donatello, there’s no one to save you,” you said.

“Scoff,” he said, rolling his eyes at you, “I do believe that we are to partake in the more dignified battle of Mario Kart?” 

You grinned at him, gesturing to your projector set up on your bed, “All set up and ready for me to crush you, darling.”

“Is that so?” he asked. Donnie gracefully climbed onto your bunk and got situated in his normal seat, placing the pizza box right behind the projector. You closed your laptop and rose to do the same. 

You exchanged Donnie a Wii remote for a slice of pizza, immediately shoving half into your mouth.

Donnie looked at you with disgust, “It is terrifying how well you would fit in with my brothers.”

“We get along famously,” you said, “I’m mutuals with Mikey on every social media.” You shoved the rest of the slice in your mouth and started to boot up your console.

“Please don’t remind me,” Donnie grimaced, “He won’t stop asking me to invite you over so the two of you can make the macaroon recipe you sent him.”

“Macron, you savage,” You corrected. Donnie mimicked you with a whiny voice. You grabbed another piece of pizza, eating it with a little more decorum than before.

“How are we doing this?” you asked.

“I’d assume with our remotes?” Donnie said. You swatted his arm. Donnie scooted as far away from you as possible, sticking out his tongue.

“I mean our battle, dum-dum,” you said, “Best two of three races? Best two of three overall cups? Battle mode?”

Donnie hummed in thought, “Hmm, depends on the wager.”

“A wager?” you asked, “What are we betting?”

Donnie narrowed his eyes at you, contemplating, “I want… your ABBA hoodie for two uninterrupted weeks.”

You blinked at him, “That’s a huge ask, Donatello.” 

“All’s fair in love and hoodie stealing,” Donnie said, “You still haven’t returned my purple one, so I’d say this is completely just.”

“You are the bane of my existence,” you groaned, “ Fine, but I want to paint your nails with free creative control on the design.”

“I find that agreeable,” Donnie said, holding out a hand. You took it in yours, giving it two firm shakes. 

“Okay, in that case I think we should do best of three cups,” you said, “Coin toss decides who gets to choose which one?”

“I, actually, have a random generator to pick cups. We had to implement it at the Hamato household after the Coconut Mall incident,” he said.

You tilted your head at him, “Do I want to know?”

“Nope!” Donnie said cheerily, “Grab your laptop, I’ll get it set up.”

You nodded, sliding off your bed to snatch your laptop off of your desk and handed it to Donnie before pulling yourself back up on the bunk. Donnie pulled his glasses out of his battle-shell and put them on.

It always amused you how his glasses hooked on the side of Donnie’s goggles when he wasn’t in human form. You wondered how the goggles themselves managed to stay on his head without ears to hold onto, but you figured that was a question for another day.

“It appears that our first course will be, drumroll please,” Donnie said. You obliged, patting your thighs as the generator loaded, “The Mushroom Cup!”

“Nice, something easy to start out with,” you said, “Think you’ll be able to handle it?”

“Sarcastic laughter, please boot up the game now,” Donnie said, attempting to flick you. You moved your shoulder out of the way, your eyes focused on the projector screen. You pulled up the game and clicked to the racer selection screen.

“Oh fuck you, you would be a Rosalina main,” you said.

“Is Yoshi any better, you quote unquote basic bitch?” 

“Yoshi is classic,” you said, bringing a leg up to push Donnie over with your foot.

“Yoshi is for diaper babies,” Donnie said. He pushed your foot away with a look of disgust, “Keep your feet away from me, I’m begging.”

“Then beg,” you said. You glanced over at his half of the screen again, “You drive manual?”

“You don’t?” he asked, “Of course, it takes a special class of gamer to be able to handle it.”

“I'm gonna make you eat your words,” you said, clicking over to start the Mushroom Cup. Luigi Circuit loaded up on the screen. You closed the pizza box before the race started for fear of marinara related casualties.

The two of you started the game in relative quiet, both doing your best to focus at the start. Donnie was incredibly well practiced. By the way he seamlessly dodged shells and followed along the shortest path, you could tell that he had a good amount of hours dedicated to the game. 

You and Donnie had pulled into first and second place pretty soon into the race, the two of you switching positions the entire time.

You swore that it was the pizza grease that took you out at the last minute. There was no possible way you would’ve let go of the drift button that early on purpose.

Donnie looked at you, smug, as the scoreboard appeared with Rosalina at the very top.

“If you give up now, I’ll only steal your hoodie for one week instead of two,” Donnie said, leaning back against the wall with his arms crossed behind his head.

“Mmm, fuck no,” you said. You grabbed a third slice from the box, taking a few bites and setting it back down. You were sure to wipe off your hands on your pants this time.

“We were neck and neck the entire time, Donnie, that doesn’t even make logical sense.”

“It was obviously a case of beginner’s luck,” Donnie said. He blew air on his nails and rubbed them off on his chest, “But of course, if you’re going to decline my incredibly generous offer, I have no choice but to destroy you.”

“You,” you said, pointing your finger at him, “have a colossal ego. I'm gonna demolish it.”

You managed to snatch first place right out from under him on Moo Moo Meadows, but he pulled ahead of you on Mushroom Gorge.

Neither of you claimed first place on Mushroom Gorge, though. The two of you stared blankly at the CPU Mario that had won after you both knocked each other out with shells. 

“That’s pretty embarrassing for the two of us, Don,” you said. You gave the little racer the biggest stink-eye you could manage.

“I’m not the one that came in third place after a NPC,” Donnie said. You grabbed a pillow and thwacked him across the chest with it. 

“What? I am saying only factual statements,” Donnie said. He made a grab for the pillow, but you snatched it back.

“Here’s a factual statement: I’m gonna kick your ass,” you said, enunciating each word.

“Cue up the next game and we’ll see,” Donnie said. He wriggled his shell against the pillows and leaned back in a show of casual nonchalance.

You knew he was bluffing by the way his hands were tensed on the controller. It didn’t matter, you were gonna win, anyways.

You clicked to the next race, Toad’s Factory, and rolled your shoulders back in preparation. Giving up your favorite hoodie for half a month? That’s fine, whatever, but this?

This was a matter of pride, and by fucking golly you were gonna make Donnie lose.

Donnie accidentally ran into a stomper right of the bat, spurring him to move from the pillows and sit up. You ignored his quiet muttering while you focused on hitting the shortcuts you remembered from childhood. 

Mario Kart, really, was a game of memorization. Low jumps were faster than high jumps but only made it to the end in certain areas, certain speed boosters switched positions after certain laps, different obstacles were in play on different laps, that type of stuff. It took every last bit of your concentration to win the last round against Donnie.

You dropped your controller like a mic after your driver crossed the finish line, giving a beaming smile to a glowering Donnie.

“How’s them apples?” you said. You did a little dance to the podium music as you watched Yoshi do the same on the podium, "It doesn't take the best to win the Mushroom Cup, just, you know, being better."

“I admit, you do have some skills,” Donnie said. He opened your laptop again to start up the Cup generator.

“But will it be enough for…, insert drumroll here,” he said. You rolled your eyes, but obliged him again, “the Flower Cup!”

“Gosh, Dee, do you have that generator set on the easy ones?” you asked.

“I can have the generator choose another one, if you want,” he said. Like you, he was taking the break as an opportunity to finish his slice. It was like the two of you were having a picnic on your bed.

You wondered if he would be down for a real one when the weather started to get better.

(Is that a casual bestie activity? You’d have to ask May.)

“That sounds like a trap,” you said, “So I’m gonna go with no.”

“Suit yourself,” Donnie shrugged, “Just putting it out there that you’re allowed to surrender at any time.”

You shook your head at him and started the next cup.

The second cup had very similar results to the first. You won a race, Donnie won a race, freak mechanics landed you both below fifth place, leading to the Wario’s Gold Mine being the deciding factor.

You took off with a rocket start, as per usual, and was surprised to see that Donnie wasn’t following behind you. You peaked over at his screen to see him… going backwards?

“What are you doing there, bud?” you asked. Donnie smirked at the screen as he threw his racer off of the track, but said nothing.

“Have you decided to throw the race? There’s less dramatic ways of doing that.”

You watched as his racer appeared behind the start line. He continued going backwards through the track just for a little bit before turning around and crossing the start line. The Lakitu appeared on his side of the screen, showing him that he completed the first round.

“What the hell?” you did your best to finish out the first round while watching Donnie repeat that maneuver once, twice more. You just barely started your second round when you saw “Finish!” pop up on Donnie’s half of the screen. You didn’t even get to finish the race before it timed out after Donnie completed it.

“How is that fair?” you yelled at the screen.

“Oh, it wasn’t,” he said. Donnie sipped at a fancy-looking drink that appeared out of nowhere, looking smug, “But I did win, so…”

“I am going to text your brothers and tell them of your crimes,” you threatened, “That move has to be illegal.”

“Hey, you’ve been using shortcuts this entire time. I don’t see how this one is any different,” Donnie said. He took an obnoxiously loud sip out of his cup. You glared at him.

“For the sake of good sportsmanship, I’m letting this slide once,” you said after a few deep breaths. Donnie gave you a sickly sweet smile.

“Once, Vomitello,” you said. You pinched the top of your nose, “Just… just boot up the generator for the next cup.”

Donnie listened to you, typing on your laptop with one hand while he held his drink in the other. 

“Third and final cup is…” Donnie started. You obliged with a drumroll for the last time, “The Special Cup!”

“Oh fuck, me, I hate Rainbow Road,” you grumbled.

“Are you being homophobic? In front of mine own eyes?” Donnie teased.

“No, but I could be persuaded to commit a hate crime,” you said threateningly. Donnie barked out a laugh.

“Losing has made you testy, sweetums,” he crooned.

“Whatever,” you muttered. You had to win the first three races, there was no other way for you to beat Donnie in this cup. 

You managed to snag first on Dry Dry Ruins and just barely managed it on Moonview Highway.

The cars, man. Always the cars. 

You knew you were getting nervous, but if you could tell anything by the way Donnie’s eye was twitching, he was as well.

(Or he was getting close to losing it. It was a narrow line to walk with him.)

It appeared that you had reached the end of your luck, though, when it came to Bowser’s Castle.

“I’m gonna need you to not follow me through all my shortcuts,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Excuse me? You are not the only one with Mario Kart expertise here,” Donnie said, affronted.

“You’re the only one getting banana’ed, though,” you said, cackling while you saw his racer spin out on the splitscreen.

“Oh dear, if only I had a shell,” Donnie said.

“Wait, no!” you screeched. You watched helplessly as the shell knocked into your character, allowing Donnie to just pull in front of you and snag first. Once again, a CPU pulled in front of you, landing you in a meager third place.

“Gah! That’s so not cool, Donatello,” you half-yelled.

“I disagree. I’ve been statistically proven to have at least a 73% coolness level at all times,” Donnie said. He put on a show of stretching his arms out. You glowered at the display.

“You’re 100% a pain in my ass,” you said. You poked him in the side, forcing him to bring his arms back down and cringe away from you, “Last race for all the biscuits. Be prepared for your imminent destruction.”

“Likewise, sweetums,” Donnie said.

You thought you felt actual sweat coming off of your body for this race. You really hated Rainbow Road. In a game of memorization, there was something about this race that refused to click for you.

You weren’t a loser though. Not when it came to beating Donnie.

You started the race and you’re doing better than normal, keeping a consistent third place at the start. Donnie, because he’s evil, stays solidly in first and starts gloating.

“Wow, you’re doing better than expected,” he said. He dropped a banana on the course, which you just barely missed, “Too bad it’s all for nothing,”

You remained silent, giving your utmost concentration to the game.

“I already have a few outfits planned for your hoodie. What do you think would go best, blue jeans or joggers?” he asked, smiling.

You really wanted to kick him, but you would not have any accusations of cheating.

You just barely pulled ahead of the CPU in the final lap of the race. (Fuck that Waluigi racer.) You were honestly just thankful that you didn’t fall off of the course as much as usual.

“Oops, left a little present for you,” Donnie said, laughing. He left a fake item box on the track, which you missed by the skin on your teeth.

“Damn that’s crazy. Hope you don’t mind this blue shell,” you said.

“What? No!” Donnie exclaimed. He watched helplessly as his racer spun out, “Blue shells shouldn’t even count!”

“In the name of good sportsmanship, yes they fucking do!” you yelled. The blue shell bought you just enough time to pull ahead of Donnie. You were in the clear, there was no way for Donnie to win. He tried to kick you over before you finish the race, but he was too late.

“Yes!” you yelled as your racer crossed the finish line. You jumped off the bed, fully doing a victory dance. You shimmied along to the podium music, loving the defeated look on Donnie’s face.

“Get shit on, Donatello!”

“Yeah, yeah, go ahead and celebrate,” he said. He dramatically waved you off, turning his head to the side, “This is the first of many battles, you have not yet won the war.”

You put your elbows on Donnie’s knees, crowding into his space, “Would you like galaxy or ombre nails more?”

“...Ombre.”

“Guess we’re doing galaxy,” you said, smiling with your tongue between your teeth.

Donnie pushed you away with a palm to your forehead, “Sarcastic laughter, remind me to never lose to you again.”

You allowed the motion of Donnie pushing you back, moving to peruse your (admittedly meager) collection of Wii games.

“Okay, after that friendship ruiner, do you want to start a new save file of Super Mario Bros with me?” you offered, “I’ll even let you be Mario.”

Donnie squinted his eyes at you, “New proposition, we go down to your campus’s marketplace, obtain snacks, and then start a new save file.”

“Works with me,” you shrugged.

“Awesome,” Donnie said. He pulled off his hoodie and activated his image transducer along with his jetpack, “Last one there has to pay!”

“Wait!” you said, following him to your window. You watched him as he did a barrel roll in the air, flipping you off the entire time. You shrugged on a coat and grabbed your keys as you ran through your door, laughing.

“What a dick.”

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp: T-swift was so right

QuarkedUp: how /can/ a person know everything at 18 and nothing at 22?

QuarkedUp: #deep

BootyShaker9000: I’m the only 22 year-old here.

BootyShaker9000: You’re basically an overgrown highschooler.

QuarkedUp: SCOFF

QuarkedUp: they said, with the mimicked inflection of Donatello “Jerkass” Hamato

BootyShaker9000: That’s a new one.

QuarkedUp: I am /not/ a freshman

BootyShaker9000: You’re so short, it could’ve fooled me

QuarkedUp:  SCOFF ^2

BootyShaker9000: :)

—

BootyShaker9000: Sweetums.

QuarkedUp: Try again.

BootyShaker9000: Human whom I only mildly tolerate.

QuarkedUp: better, what’s up?

BootyShaker9000: Have you had a sufficient enough break from science?

QuarkedUp: BACK

QuarkedUp: BACK I SAY

QuarkedUp: I KNOW YOUR /SCHEMES/ HAMATO

QuarkedUp: you wont drag me back into using my brain so easily

BootyShaker9000: That answers that question.

—

QuarkedUp: Winter break dining hall food sucks ass

QuarkedUp: this is a preemptive notice that I will be coming over to eat your snacks

BootyShaker9000: Who said you were allowed?

QuarkedUp: im leo’s and mikey’s favorite

QuarkedUp: still working on Raph but i have /plans/

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: Why must you invade my life like this?

QuarkedUp: who stole who’s textbook, here?

BootyShaker9000: Touche

—

“Do you think the type of transistor we use will affect the output registered from the neural impulses?”

“I think that’s an excellent question for the world wide internet,” you responded. You held one of  Donnie’s hands in yours while you delicately painted little galaxies on his fingernails. You were cashing in on your finger painting privileges from the Mario Kart tournament.

Donnie had grumbled a little when you showed up to the lair with your nail polishes in hand, but had been a relatively good victim client otherwise.

The two of you were lounging in his lab, fine-tuning the components you would need for the first Project Kappa Kappa design. It had taken a little goading, but Donnie had convinced you to join him on a brainstorming session.

Your body still felt tired and wrung out from the amount of brainpower you exerted over finals. 

You laid Donnie’s hand gently on the ottoman that you claimed as your workstation and reached for his other one. He used his metal arm to continue holding his tablet while you started in on the base coat for his nails.

“Hey Dee, do you happen to own any suits that would match your nails?” you asked coyly. You had been putting off inviting him for too long. 

Donnie spared a glance to briefly look at his nails and continued reading. His glasses had made another appearance today, sitting halfway down his nose in that librarian way of his, “I believe so, why?”

You took a steadying breath.

“Well, dear Donnifer, Don-jiman, Dee-Dee–”

“None of those words were my name,” he interrupted with a swipe across his tablet.

“ –would you bestow upon me the greatest honor,” you continued, rolling your eyes at him, “of escorting me to Eastlaird’s 6th annual Nerd Prom?”

Donnie blinked in confusion.

“Prom? You’re in college. Prom is a high school occasion,” Donnie said. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Eastlaird holds a prom the Thursday after finals to make up for scheduling tests up until the Tuesday before break,” you explained, “I wasn’t planning on going at all, but May was... insistent. I figured who better than the one and only ‘BootyShaker9000’ to accompany me?”

Donnie nodded as he processed the new information. 

“Well, I do love to dance…” Donnie trailed.

“Is that a yes?” you asked, perking up.

Donnie sighed, “Yes, I suppose I can find the time to spare to escort you.”

You smiled at him, wriggling a little in your seat from excitement. You accidentally got some polish on his cuticle and grabbed a q-tip to clean it up.

“It’ll be so much fun, Dee-dee,” you said, “You haven’t lived life until you’ve been thrown into a sweaty grind circle with Lil Jon in the background.”

Donnie paled, “Please tell me that’s not required for attendance.”

You laughed at him, reaching for a sponge to dab on some interstellar clouds onto his nails.

“No, but it’ll get ya,” you said, “The sweet, sweet allure of gyrating hips is like a siren call. Who are you to say no?”

“Someone who doesn’t crash the metaphorical boat,” Donnie deadpanned. You rolled your eyes at him.

“In any case, I was thinking that I would meet you here at like five on Thursday?” you suggested, “And then we could ride in style in the Turtle Tank to dinner and then to the dance.”

“Dinner is included in this ritual?” he asked.

“Traditionally, yes,” you said. You paused in order to gently blow on his nails so you could add another color, “I guess it’s optional if you don’t want to partake.”

Donnie tilted his head to the side like he was rolling the idea around in his head. “Supposing this is my first and only school dance, we might as well do it properly,” he said. 

You beamed, “It’ll be fun! There’s nothing like getting fast food when dressed to the nines.”

You set his hand down so you could rummage through your bag for another brush. Donnie took that as an opportunity to better inspect his nails.

“Ooo, Andromeda?” he asked. You nodded your head to confirm, “Very nicely done. I recently procured a new purple suit, this will be the perfect opportunity to bring it out on the town.”

“Do you own anything that isn’t purple?” you asked. 

Donnie gave you a stink eye.

“The hoodie that you’re currently wearing and so nonchalantly stole from me two weekends ago,” Donnie said, gesturing to your torso, “I swear, you return them just to steal another one right from underneath my snout.”

You flushed, a little embarrassed. There was positively no way to distract from the fact that you very much were wearing Donnie’s dark gray hoodie, “It is not my fault that you have the best hoodies. Sharing is caring, Donatello.”

Donnie grunted, putting his hand back into yours so you could continue painting.

“Can we get back to Project Kappa Kappa, now?”

You sighed, beginning the process of painting little stars again, “Yes, dear.”

—

BootyShaker9000: Would you prefer a boutonniere or corsage?

BootyShaker9000: Additionally, what is your color palate for this evening?

QuarkedUp: oh we going traditional tonight?

BootyShaker9000: April said it was customary to exchange flowers for school dances.

QuarkedUp: that’s true

QuarkedUp: I think a boutonniere would work best with my fit

QuarkedUp: white flowers would be great

BootyShaker9000: Gotcha. 

QuarkedUp: I’m assuming purple for you?

BootyShaker9000: You know me so well.

—

BootyShaker9000: Please do not be intimidated, for I will be looking /fire/ this evening.

BootyShaker9000: Don't think about upstaging me as you will lose. 

QuarkedUp: is this why you didnt want to have a pre-prom getting ready montage with me?

BootyShaker9000: Mikey was really committed to playing the role of my stylist.

BootyShaker9000: My brothers and I have a /very/ long standing tradition when it comes to wearing suits, I think they would kill me if I broke from it.

QuarkedUp: that sounds like a lot of backstory im not privy to, so ill let it slide

QuarkedUp: just ONCE :[ /teasing

QuarkedUp: Also imma be a little earlier to the lair than expected, I somehow discovered a better bus route to your place today

BootyShaker9000: That’s fine, you know the way in.

QuarkedUp: yuh, see you there deedee

—

“Damn, you’re looking good , cuaderno,” Leo called out as you climbed the ladder down into the lair. You were really pushing it with the dress shoes as you went down, but luckily you didn’t fall to your untimely death.

Raph lifted his head up from where he was reading a comic and made a noise of agreement, “I agree, fit goes hard, man.”

“Thanks fellas,” you said as you finally reached the ground. You were hoping that you and Don would take the back entrance to leave so you wouldn’t have to risk the ladder again.

You did a little spin to show off your suit as the two turtles ‘ooe’d’ politely, “I got this out of a thrift store, but I tailored it myself a few years ago.”

“Excellent craftsmanship, Donnie will be impressed,” Raph said.

“Speaking of ol’ Donnie boy,” Leo said, coquettishly, “Anything… special planned for tonight?”

“I am really looking forward to demolishing a big Mac and taking dumb aesthetic photos in the McDonald’s, if that’s what you’re asking,” you answered.

Raph smacked Leo on the back of the head and gave him a look. The two of them exchanged a silent conversation before Raph turned back and gave you a smile.

“Glad to hear it, kiddo,” Raph said, “I know the two of you will have fun.”

You smiled back at Raph, but before you could answer you were loudly interrupted by Mikey loudly making trumpet noises as he entered the common area.

“Michelangelo Studios would like to present for the first time ever,” Mikey started, tapping his phone to play intro music, “the very talented and very handsome… Othello Von Ryan!”

Donnie stepped out from the doorway, appearing to be a bit shy. You caught his eye as he entered and his cheeks went bright bright red.

Donnie looked, well, fantastic. His suit was dark purple and incredibly well fitted, accentuating his build in ways you didn’t know was possible. His black button down was unbuttoned at the top, allowing a little bit of his chest to peek through. Even his shoes looked like they were shined for the occasion.

There was just one problem though: Donnie was wearing his image transducer.

He looked great, obviously, but it just… wasn’t what you had in mind when you invited him out.

“You’re wearing Jupiter Jim’s suit from Jupiter Jim: Wedding Crasher,” Donnie said, seemingly just as in awe of you as you were of him. 

He patted his pockets, a little frantic, before he pulled out a box with a delicate boutonniere and held it out in front of you. It was made up of the smallest white roses you had ever seen with baby’s breath in between the flowers.

It was, honestly, perfect.

You took it from him, opened the box, and handed the boutonniere back to him so he could pin it on your jacket.

“And you’re in your human form,” you said, questioningly. You registered that the room was mysteriously empty, save for you and Donnie.

“Is that not… is that not what was implied?” Donnie asked. He quickly pinned the flowers onto your jacket, tugging at it a little to make sure it was secure.

“I recall inviting you, Donatello, not Othello von Ryan,” you said. You pulled out your own boutonniere for Donnie, handing it to him.

Donnie gazed happily at the little violets in the box. He opened it and handed the boutonniere to you, mimicking your earlier actions.

“I–I figured since this was a human event, you’d want to take a human with you,” Donnie said, stammering a little. You bit the inside of your cheek, contemplating as you pinned the flowers to his jacket. You felt around the fabric, grabbed ahold of the camouflaged image transducer, and removed it.

You looked up at him, watching as his human form rippled away.

“I invited you,” you repeated. You held out the brooch in your hand, allowing Donnie to take it from you, “And besides, what Jupiter Jim doesn’t want their turtle alien partner in crime by their side as they take on the nefarious Silverfish double agents?”

“Cosplay as a cover in case someone starts asking questions,” Donnie said, realization dawning on him, “You really are clever.”

“And that purple suit… suits you,” you said, giving Donnie a dumb smile.

Donnie rolled his eyes, “That was worse than Leo’s jokes.”

“Hey! My jokes are fantastic,” Leo said, appearing again with his head through a portal. He walked all the way through with Mikey and Raph behind him carrying a cart with a camera, tripod, and a box of what looked like various backdrops.

“Donnie, I wouldn’t have spent that much time on your hair if I knew you were just going to take the brooch off,” Mikey scolded.

“That’s my bad, Mike,” you said, “Average handsome guy doesn’t compliment the Jupiter Jim fit as well.”

Leo bit his bottom lip, holding in a laugh as he looked at Donnie. You quickly glanced at Donnie, who looked even more flustered than before. You were about to ask about it, but Mikey caught your attention again.

“You’re gonna have to work a little harder on getting on my good side if you wanna put a ring on my finger,” Mikey teased.

You laughed, clasping your hands together to plead, “Baby please, I’ll do anything. You’re my one true love.”

“Then perish,” Mikey said, sticking his tongue out at you.

“Or we could maybe get some pictures?” Raph asked. He lifted the camera up from where he was holding it.

“Ooo, absolutely,” you said. You went over to help Leo hang up a muted gray backdrop against the lair’s brick walls. Donnie helped Raph wrangle the tripod into behaving while Mikey pulled random accessories from the cart.

“Alright, let’s get some photos with just you, compi,” Leo said. You stood awkwardly in front of the backdrop as Mikey started snapping photos at a rapid-fire speed.

“Act natural, you’re glowing,” Leo said to prompt you to pose.

“I, uh, okay,” you said, shaking your head. You moved through an improvised vogueing routine, doing your best to comply with Mikey and Leo’s directions.

“Chin up!”

“Ooo, flash that smirk again!”

“Tilt your head to the side?”

“Mix up the poses, you’re killing me here.”

“Work it!”

You laughed through it all, shooting the camera coy looks and sticking out your tongue when you couldn’t hold back your smile.

“Alright fellas,” you said after what felt like ages, “I think it’s time for Donnie to get a turn.”

“What? No,” Donnie protested. Leo grinned at him while he dragged Donnie over to the backdrop. You ambled your way over behind the camera as Donnie glowered at Leo.

“Come on, Dee-dee, I know you love the spotlight,” you said.

Donnie rolled his eyes at you and smiled, rolling his shoulders back into his first pose. You stayed back and watched the chaos as Mikey and Leo gave Donnie the same treatment as before.

Raph ended up next to you, supervising his brothers.

“I’m trusting that I’m not gonna have to give you the shovel talk, right?” Raph asked you. His voice was low and quiet. You had never known the guy to be all that menacing in your (limited) time together, but he was quickly proving you wrong.

“Oh no, nothing to worry about here,” you said, waving your hands out in front of you, “Dee and me are just friends. Really good friends, but still just… friends.”

“Good!” Raph said brightly, patting you on the shoulder, “Raph hates conflict almost as he does hiding bodies.”

“Run that by me again?” you asked, a little concerned.

“You have nothing to worry about, kiddo!” Raph said. His demeanor seemingly flipped a switch back to his usual, friendly self.

“Get back over here, dude! Time for photos of the both of you,” Mikey said. You gave Raph a nervous smile before ducking tail and heading next to Donnie.

“How are we doing this?” you asked him.

“Um…” Donnie trailed off. He held his arm out to the side for you to take it, “Like this?”

“Works with me,” you agreed. You looped your arm through his and smiled at the camera.

“Could the two of you… move closer together?” Mikey asked.

You complied, scooching closer to Donnie until your shoulder was touching the back of his arm.

“Mmm, that’s not quite it either,” Mikey said. He stood back from the camera holding his hand in his chin, “Leo, can you… fix them?”

“On it!”

Leo moved you and Donnie around in a blur, similar to how a child might position their dolls. In the commotion, you found yourself with your arms around Donnie’s neck and Donnie holding your waist. The two of you stared at each other, flushed and completely ignorant to the clicks of the camera to the side.

You blinked at Donnie, biting the inside of your cheek.

Everything was just… ridiculous.

You started laughing, dropping your head down to his chest. Donnie brought one of his hands to his forehead, sighing deeply.

“That was… not expected,” Leo muttered.

“Donnie, Donnie,” you said, giggling.

“Yes?” he said, sounding pained.

“Initiate band kid protocol,” you said, bringing your arms back down. Understanding flashed across Donnie’s eyes. He nodded and got into position.

“Leo, this is worse. How did it get worse?” Mikey said. He gestured towards you and Donnie t-posing side by side.

“You don’t like this pose?” you asked, sounding innocent.

“Maybe they’d appreciate something a little more classic, sweetums,” Donnie said. You nodded and the two of you dabbed simultaneously.

“Guys.”

“Oh shit, Donnie lift me up. They want us to go all the way back to 2012,” you said.

“Gotcha,” he replied. You hopped in his arms and he lifted you above his head so you could pull off the perfect plank.

“This one better?” you asked from your perch. Raph put a fist to his mouth to muffle his laugh. Leo crossed his arms and grumbled about you and Donnie disrespecting the craft.

“You know what?” Mikey said, “For you two, it’s perfect.” He snapped a few photos, taking the camera off of the tripod to get different angles. Eventually, Donnie let you back down the ground after his arms started to shake. 

“Your ninja strength has once again impressed me, Dee-dee” you said

“Brains and brawn, I’m a double threat,” Donnie said, shrugging nonchalantly. You snorted and punched his arm.

“Alright, get out of here, losers,” Leo said as he corralled you and Donnie towards the Turtle Tank, “There is a cringe threshold and you have both surpassed it.”

“I am cringe… but I am free,” you said, dreamily. Leo shook his head at you.

“We were getting along so well, too,” he said. You broke out into another burst of giggles, clutching to Donnie’s jacket so you wouldn’t fall down.

“Have fun, you two!” Mikey called out as the two of you were about to go into the garage.

“Don’t get into any trouble!” Raph said.

You smiled and waved goodbye to them, heading through the door with Donnie.

"First one there gets aux?"

"Oh, you're so on."

Chapter Text

Getting your food was… an experience with Donatello. 

He oo’ed and ah’ed at the interior of the McDonald’s, drawing attention from the few late night customers. 

“Truly extravagant decor, do you know who the artist of this is?” Donnie asked, pointing to a generic painting on the wall.

“This dude called ‘Big Business and Corporations,” you said, pushing him towards the menu, “Please figure out what you’re going to eat before going all interior decorator on me.”

Donnie allowed you to maneuver him, but back talked all the same, “You act like I’ve never been to a fine establishment before.”

You were about to retort about McDonald’s being anything but a fine establishment, but you were interrupted by the cashier.

“Hello, what can I get started for you two today?” she asked.

“Hello madam, I would like to order one of your exceptional burgers,” Donnie said to the cashier, his particular accent amplified more than ever.

“Big Mac? McDouble? You’re going to have to be more specific, bud,” the tired looking cashier asked. 

Donnie looked at you for answers, but you shrugged, gesturing to the menu.

“One… Big Mac, please?” he said tentatively.

“Cool, want to make that a combo?” 

Donnie blinked at the cashier, “A combination of what?”

You facepalmed.

“Dude,” the cashier said, “I respect staying in character, but it’s almost the end of my double shift. I’m gonna need you to answer yes or no to the combo and if yes, what size. Got it?”

“He’ll have a medium combo,” you said, jutting in, “And I’ll have the same, thank you.”

The cashier gave you a smile that didn’t reach their eyes. You quickly paid and grabbed your two drink cups, guiding Donnie over to the soda fountain.

“Have you ever… been to a McDonald’s before, Dee?” you asked.

“Uh, no,” he said, rubbing the back of his head, “My brothers and I only really order pizza.”

“Huh,” you said. You set your drink down and touched Donnie’s hand, “I have so much to teach you, young Padawan, about the wonders of midnight fast food.”

Donnie scoffed, shaking your hand off so he could fill up his cup, “That sounds like a cult.”

“Is that not what we’re doing here?” you asked, tilting your head at him as you took a sip of your drink.

“Scoff,” Donnie said, elbowing you in the side, “If this was a cult, I would have dozens of followers worshiping my every move at this very moment.”

“Yikes, megalomaniac much?”

“I’ve been known to dabble,” Donnie deadpanned. You shook your head at him, laughing. 

The photo taking session in McDonald’s was a lot more chill than the one at the lair. You managed to line up a truly excellent shot of Donnie sitting in the booth with his hands poised just so. It was hard working with the fluorescent lighting, but you did your best.

“Aww, look at you!” you said, shoving your phone in Donnie’s face, “The dapper look suits you, Dee-dee.”

“You think so?” he asked. His voice went a little higher than usual.

“Duh,” you said, “Fancy clothes have like a plus ten attractiveness modifier, it’s science.”

Donnie rolled his eyes at you, “I hardly think that’s a testable hypothesis.”

“Your mom’s a testable hypothesis,” you said, deadpan. You crowded into the booth next to Donnie, holding your phone up to take a selfie, “Say cheese, Donatello!”

“Must I?”

“Yes,” you said, kicking his foot under the table. Donnie sighed. He looked into the camera and gave you the most monotone ‘cheese’ you had ever heard. You laughed as you snapped a few pictures. 

“Is that enough photos? Can I enjoy my quote unquote Big Mac now?” he asked.

You stuck your tongue out at him, but set your phone down, “Yes, dear.”

—

You were a little… put off, to say least, about the decorations at Nerd Prom. The organizers had completely transformed Eastlaird’s main event hall into something that would probably belong better in 2012. The walls were covered with what looked like handmade galaxy tapestries and large glittery stars hung from the ceiling. Every so often the stars would sway with the movement of air in the room, threatening to drop down on the dancers heads.

“‘A Night Under the Stars’?” Donnie read off of one of the posters, “It looks like a galaxy jpeg threw up in here.”

You snorted, getting your ear plugs out as the two of you walked further into the hall. (You could already feel the music thrumming an uncomfortable amount, it wouldn’t do well to get overstimulated too early into the night.)

“It looks like 2010’s Tumblr’s wet dream.”

“It looks like the set of a poorly done slime tutorial.”

“There’s more purple in here than in your entire lab.”

“It’s the visual equivalent of astronomy’s and Claire’s unfortunate love child.”

You barked out a laugh, putting your hand on Donnie’s shoulder, “You live in the sewers, how do you know what a Claire’s is?”

“Raph’s unfortunate flower crown phase,” Donnie grimaced. 

You were about to ask for clarification, but spotted May working at the ticket table. You called out her name, waving aggressively at her. May’s head popped up and she quickly spotted you.

“Hey guys!” May called out from the ticket table. She bounded over to the two of you, much to the disgruntlement of the other committee member running the table with her, “Wow, y’all are looking fabulous, if I do say so myself.”

“Like you’re not looking like a whole ass goddess right now?” you asked, “I knew that dress was cute on the hanger, but you are rocking it tonight.”

“Your dress compliments you very well, May,” Donnie said, nodding his head in agreement.

May beamed, doing a little twirl to show off her dress, “You two are too kind. I just wish the decorations weren’t so god awful ugly. It totally puts a damper on my style.”

“They are… a bit much,” Donnie said. 

May took in Donnie fully, her mouth quirking up when she registered his green skin fully on display. She leaned in closer to Donnie, conspiratorially. 

“I’m actually super cool with the whole, you know,” May looked around and whispered, “yokai thing. I was super like ‘ whaaat’, when my roomie spilled the beans, but I’m all for you letting your natural colors show, human or not.”

“Thank you?” Donnie said, giving May his best forced smile. 

“Anytime! Love is love,” May said, putting her hand on Donnie’s shoulder, “And I’m rooting for you guys.” She skipped off, presumably to quell the simmering rage of her committee partner that she left behind.

You were bright red and mortified as Donnie let out a choked laugh.

“You could tell her that I was a mutant turtle but not that we aren’t actually dating?” Donnie asked, blinking at the space that May had left behind.

You looked up at Donnie with your hands flung to the side, feeling incredibly flustered, “I tried, Dee-dee, I tried. The woman would not accept it.”

Donnie nodded, “She is a bit of a powerhouse.”

“Tell me about it,” you said, “Now, please, I need to drown my sorrows by twerking to music from the 2010’s.”

You looped your arm through his and started marching towards the balloon arch that indicated the entrance to the dance.

“That is still not happening,” he protested. Donnie let you pull him along all the same. 

“Is this a skill issue or a crowd issue? Because I’m starting to think that you just can’t hack it as a ‘booty shaker’,” you said. You handed your pre-bought tickets to the person manning the entrance and walked through the arch. 

“Indignant huff, it is not a skill issue,” Donnie said as you led him to the tables so the two of you could claim a chair to place your stuff on. 

“Then what is it?”

“This dance floor just isn’t ready for the sheer force of BootyShaker9000,” he answered.

“If you say so, Dee-dee,” you said, shrugging off your suit jacket and placing it on the back of your chair. You cuffed your shirt sleeves a little higher to accommodate how warm it was in the room.

You had to admit, you knew you looked good. You had too many hours on your suit to have it be unflattering. Every seam, every stitch was calculated (with the help of your more talented friends) to improve upon the lines of your body. 

Though… Donnie was giving you a solid run for your money. You noticed a gaggle of girls looking at him, pointing and giggling together. For half a second, you thought they were being rude because of the whole green skin situation, but… you recognized their blushes. You knew what their hushed whispers to each other meant.

And that was… fine, honestly. Donnie deserved to be admired. Maybe he would even find someone tonight.

That would be great for him.

“Sweetums, you still with me?” Donnie asked, waving his hand in front of your face to catch your attention.

You blinked at him, your train of thought completely vanishing and leaving you with a blush you couldn’t begin to explain.

“I, uh, yeah,” you said, giving him a smile, “Let’s hit the dance floor.”

—

For all the problems you had with the decorations, the music choices of the night were somehow worse. You were promised throwbacks, not whatever the DJ was trying to attempt. It was like he went through the top albums of your childhood and specifically avoided the top hits.

There were a few good choices of the night, however. You screamed with excitement as you heard the familiar drum beats of ‘Wobble’ start up.

“What is happening?” Donnie asked, pausing from his dancing, “Why are people lining up?”

You grabbed his hand and ran to the forming lines to claim an area for the two of you, “It’s a line dance, Dee-dee! Everyone follows the same steps.”

“I do not know any of the steps.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I’ll help you, just follow my lead.”

You hopped into the dance with everyone else, leaning your torso forward and shimmying your chest. Donnie gave you a confused look, but did his best to copy your movements.

“Look, you’re a natural,” you said to him as he quickly fell in line with you rolling your arms to the side.

“Absolutely none of this is natural to me,” Donnie deadpanned. He initially stumbled over the stepping move but quickly sorted himself out.

“Don’t be a baby, Dee,” you chided. You turned to the left with the rest of the crowd, hearing Donnie squawk behind you.

“I’m allowed to have opinions!” he grumbled.

Donnie, unsurprisingly, was able to catch on pretty quickly. He glided through the moves like he had been doing them his entire scholastic life.

Though, you weren’t happy with him just knowing the moves.

“Loosen up babes! You look like a robot!” you said over the music.

“It’s a stylistic choice!” he said back.

Stylistic choice, your ass. 

The next time the dancers turned around, you found yourself with Donnie right in front of you. You put your hands on his shoulders to attempt to make his movements more fluid.

“Loose,” you said into his ear, “I thought I said to take my lead?”

Donnie looked back at you, a little unsure, but nodded. He leaned into your hands, moving his shoulders with you.

“Ay, there you get it!” you said, “You’re a star, Dee-dee!”

The dance flipped around so the two of you were facing the same side again. You took Donnie’s hand in yours, making both of your wobble movements more dramatic. You giggled at the incredulous look Donnie gave you. 

“This dance is incredibly simplistic,” Donnie said, moving into a body roll, “Why do you enjoy it so much?”

“Well, it’s easy,” you said, moving into the step part of the dance, “And there’s the sheer joy of doing something ridiculous with others.”

Donnie nodded in response. You could see the cogs turning in his brain. You turned to your left again and found Donnie flush against your back, facing the complete opposite way.

“What’re you doing there, bud?”

“Something ridiculous with another person,” Donnie answered, “There’s no reason why we can’t add a little pizazz to this dance.”

“Just make sure we don’t run into anyone, please,” you said, accepting your fate.

You and Donnie danced through the first moves, mirroring each other. You were a little concerned on how you were going to back up with Donnie directly behind you, but Donnie solved that issue for you. He spun in front of you, moving through a series of complicated steps. He took your hand and guided you through a spin, landing the two facing the correct side.

“Damn,” you said, seamlessly moving into a body roll, “Pizazz.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Donnie promised.

You and Donnie spent the rest of the song breaking further and further away from the line dance into bigger and more grandiose gestures. The two of you did end up backing into other people at certain points, but everyone quickly got the memo to avoid a certain radius.

You were laughing with Donnie as you followed him through the improv. You certainly didn’t have half of the dancing expertise that Donnie did, but he was confident enough that it made up for your shortcomings.

The two of you ended the song with your hands clasped together, panting from the exertion. A few people from the crowd clapped quietly for your performance. You gave them a shy smile and stepped away from Donnie.

Donnie bit his lip, the gears whirring in his head. You tugged him back towards your table so you could get a swig of water. You cracked open one of the bottles they had floating around the hall in various coolers, downing half of it in one go.

You watched the dance floor start to break away from the lines it was in before, forming more organic shapes and clusters of different groups dancing together. 

You offered the water to Donnie, but he shook his head as he began to tap furiously on his tech gauntlet. You tilted your head at him while you set the bottle next to your stuff, a little confused. The jarring synth beats that permeated the hall were cut off as a familiar song started to play.

“Donnie, you didn’t,” you said, shoulders already moving with the beat. “Stupid Cupid” had been your absolute favorite song for ages, you probably played it for Donnie one of the first times you studied together.

“Nothing you could prove in court,” he said, holding out a hand, “May I have this next dance, sweetums?”

You glanced between his hand and his face for just a second, eventually gently placing your hand into his, “You may, Dee-dee.”

Donnie led you through a much more relaxed partner dance while the two of you stayed towards the edges of the dance floor, uneager to jump back into the middle quite yet. He was incredibly patient with you. He held your hands in his, showing you the swing steps at half speed while you copied him.

“I didn’t think you knew how to dance to anything but techno,” you said, finally feeling confident enough to look away from your feet. Donnie quirked a smile at you and led you through a spin.

“And I didn’t think you knew any move other than quote unquote ‘shaking your ass’,” he said, pulling you back into his arms, “We’re learning many things, tonight, sweetums.”

“Just ‘cause you’re in a suit, doesn’t mean I won’t throw hands,” you threatened with a grin.

Donnie chuckled, “Noted.”

The familiar guitar strumming of “Hunk of Burning Love” started up through the speakers, making you squeal with excitement. Donnie had definitely stalked your Spotify for his song choices.

“Another swing dance?” you asked, “Makes me wish I wore a skirt.”

“That is a shame,” Donnie agreed. 

“If only I had… tear-away pants with a second, secret cosplay underneath,” you said.

“Yes… if only,” Donnie said suspiciously. 

You gave him a look. Stepping away from him, you unbuttoned two hidden straps in your vest, ripped off your pants, and threw everything in a ball next to your table.

“How do I look?” you asked, striking a pose.

“That’s the dress of Jupiter Jim’s former tryst and part-time enemy Saturn Sally!” Donnie said, half squealing. He spun you around, admiring the handiwork, “Please don’t tell April, but I think you're my favorite person, like, ever.”

“Well, give your favorite person another dance, would you?” you asked, smiling with your tongue between your teeth. Donnie beamed right back. 

The two of you worked your way back into the fray and carved out quite a space in the middle of the dance floor. A part of you might have felt a little self-conscious at the stares of the crowd around you in any other situation, but you’ve found that with Donnie right next to you with his hands as a constant reassuring touch, you really didn’t care.

“Your kisses lift me higher,” you sang with the song, “Like the sweet song of the choir.” 

Donnie cut you off, pulling his arm around your head and flinging you into a spin. You squealed, almost falling, but Donnie quickly pulled you back in before you could.

“You light my morning sky with burning love,” Elvis crooned without your accompaniment. 

You felt giggly and dance drunk, completely intoxicated by Donnie’s presence. You didn’t know if you’ve ever seen him smile that much. The two of you were laughing as the song wrapped up, attempting bigger and more ridiculous moves. At one point you fully sat on the floor so Donnie could pull you up through his legs. The sheer force of it had you in the air for a second, but Donnie was there to catch you.

The two of you were just… in sync. On the same train of thought.

You didn’t know if you had ever experienced this before.

Donnie guided you from a swing dance into more of a salsa when the next song started. It took you a few seconds to register what it was.

“Oh, you tiktok poser,” you said, laughing, “You couldn’t even pick the good version of ‘Sway’?”

“Michael Bublé’s version makes for a better finale,” Donnie reasoned.

“You can’t cue up one more?” you said, pouting while you spun into a turn.

“Even hackers have common decency, sweetums,” he crooned, leaning you into a dip, “I believe I’ve tortured the DJ enough.”

“The DJ tortured us enough, I think it’s deserved,” you said. Donnie bit his cheek, shaking his head at you with a smile. 

The two of you spun around each other with your wrists touching. Donnie took a step forward, breaking the circle and placing his hand on the back of your neck. You mirrored him and did your best to keep up with the new steps.

“I demand monthly dance parties at the lair in compensation,” you said.

“Consider it done,” Donnie said, winking. 

He leaned you back in his arms, slotting a hand right under your raised knee, and picked you up in a slight lift. You squealed a little as you were raised, but did your best to keep your body straight to avoid toppling the two of you over. He set you down, his hand still on your lower back and guiding you through a very intimate salsa.

“Big finish, what are we thinking?” He asked in a low tone with his snout next to your ear.

(You didn’t shiver.)

(You… did not.)

“You’re the expert, Dee-dee,” you answered, “Your choice.”

Donnie raised an eyebrow at you,  “Have you ever seen ‘Dirty Dancing?”

“Donnie,” you warned.

“Jump when I tell you to, aim for a swan dive over my head, and arch your back once you get over my head,” Donnie explained. You gave him a worried look, so he squeezed your waist in reassurance, “Trust me?”

You sighed, “Unfortunately.”

Donnie beamed, giving you another squeeze.

“We’ll get into position on ‘when we dance’ and have you up in the air by the last ‘sway’, got it?”

You took a steadying breath and nodded.

“Coolio,” Donnie said, “It’s go time, sweetums.”

You took another breath, bending your knees e so you could launch yourself easier. Donnie held you steady in his hands as he lifted you into the air. You leaned your head back and puffed out your chest while Donnie spun the two of you around. In theory, you were looking at the crowd all around you, but you blocked everything out except the music and Donnie’s steady hands.

(If you thought about what you were doing too hard, you would’ve been a little mortified, to be honest.)

Donnie released you from his hold as Bublé belted out his final notes, allowing you to fall for just a second before he caught you in a bridal carry. You wrapped your arms around his neck, half intent on strangling him for scaring you so bad, half needing grounding after three feet of unexpected free-falling. 

Donnie pressed his forehead into yours, slightly nuzzling, and gracefully placed you back down on your feet.

Regardless of how gentle Donnie was, you still found yourself stumbling as you felt solid ground again.

“You alright there?” he teased, grabbing you by your biceps.

“I was just scared shitless, how’re you doing?” you said, still catching your breath. Donnie laughed at you and started to begin the trek back to your table. You laced your hand through his and guided him over to the food tables, instead.

“That was quite a show, Donatello,” you said. The empty circle that formed around the two of you started to fill in with dancers once Donnie had finally let the DJ play his original set.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better dance partner, sweetums,” he said, grinning like crazy next to you. You bumped your shoulder against his and let go of his hand to fill a cup with cheap punch.

“Does this mean you’ll go to swing dance lessons with me?”

“Lessons? I think you mean performances,” Donnie said. He threw up jazz hands, which made you snort while you handed him a cup.

“I think lessons, you egotistical bastard.”

“Ego, confidence, rad skills,” he said, drawing out the ‘s’, ”It’s all semantics.”

You were about to respond with something truly dumb when you saw the DJ not fifteen feet away, pointing at the two of you with a pair of beefy security guards.

The guards made their way over to the two of you with the DJ following close behind.

“I’m afraid the two of you will have to come with us,” one of them said.

“Uh, why is that?” Donnie asked. 

The DJ held onto one of the guards and leveled an accusatory finger at you and Donnie.

“You threw off my groove, man! That’s criminal.”

“No, that’s not criminal,” the other guard said, “but unauthorized hacking into school property does need to be addressed with the proper authorities.”

“How do you know it was us?” you asked, sidling up next to Donnie, “There’s hundreds of people here, it could’ve been anyone.”

“The two of you were the only ones dancing for the past three songs,” the guard said blankly.

“Touche,” Donnie muttered.

Shit.

“Well, good thing neither of us go here, right Don?” you said, elbowing him.

“That… is correct,” he agreed robotically.

You grabbed Donnie’s hand again, slowly backing up from the guards, “So we’ll just be heading home if it’s all the same to you gentlemen.”

You and Donnie turned around and sprinted out of the door, making a slight detour to grab your things. You shrugged on your jacket as you ran. Donnie, thankfully, was able to run with his arms full. 

The guards yelled after the two of you, pushing people out of the way as they followed close behind.

“Evasive maneuvers!” you yelled to Donnie, taking a sharp right turn into the student plaza. There was a lesser known path to your dorm that involved ducking through a fence and a truly unpleasant alleyway, but you had more of a chance of losing the security guards that way. Donnie was a champ at following you through the winding path, only diverging when he chose to hop over the fence instead of sliding through.

You winced a little as you felt the cold ground against your bare legs. You were just slightly regretting going into dress mode.

You turned back just to see if the guards were following, but it seemed that you had lost them for now.

You ran to the back entrance of your dorm, swiping your keycard as quickly as possible, and pushing Donnie inside. You didn’t dare use the elevators, so you led Donnie up the stairs to your floor. It was only when you slammed your dorm room door behind you that you allowed yourself to take a breath.

You put your hands on your knees, doing your best to regulate yourself again. Donnie was in a similar position, but was in better shape than you were.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for us to leave campus?” he asked, leaning against the door, “We’re basically sitting ducks here.”

“Au contraire,” you said, weakly holding up a finger, “We just told them we aren’t students, they’d never suspect us in a dorm.”

Donnie blinked at you, letting out a shocked laugh, “That’s so dumb it might work.”

You hit Donnie in retaliation, causing a small hand slapping battle between the two of you. For just a second, you paused and just looked at Donnie. His suit was all rumpled and his boutonniere was doing it's absolute best to hang on. 

You locked eyes with him, spurring the two of you to devolve into laughs. You both slid to the floor with your guts aching and your cheeks sore. The night’s events were just truly ridiculous. Between the truly extra dancing and the police chase (and even the overzealous photoshoot, if you were honest), you had a lot to giggle about. 

The two of you eventually came down from your high and sat there together in the companionable stillness of your room, quietly absorbing all the excitement that had just occurred.

“This isn’t how tonight was supposed to go at all,” you started, breaking the silence, “But it was fun. Thank you for doing this with me, Dee-dee.”

“No probbles, it was nice having an adequate dance partner for once. Leo could never pull off those turns,” he said. 

You snorted, tapping his leg with your shoe.

“Do you want to spend the night? May won’t care if I steal her bed,” you offered. Donnie hummed in thought, considering.

“I believe I will have to raincheck this time, "Donnie said. He started to pick himself up off the ground, "The Turtle Tank most likely has about five parking tickets already, I better get her home,” 

“Alright,” you said, getting up as well.

The air seemed charged somehow as you both stood there. It was like you were missing a final step of the night that the two of you didn’t have instructions for. Donnie’s hand raised, slowly, and approached your face. You leaned into it, your heart pounding.

Instead of it going towards your cheek, it raised to the crown of your head, squishing you down and messing up your hair in a half-hearted noogie.

“I’ll see you around, sweetums!” Donnie said, escaping as fast as he could out of your window. 

You chased after him, laughing in shock.

“You’re a dick, Donatello!” you yelled out your window.

“Your mother had no complaints last night!” he yelled back. A shocked laugh escaped you. You slammed your window shut, giving him two middle fingers. Donnie cackled at you, giving you a beaming smile before turning around and jogging to the Turtle Tank.

Jerk.

–

QuarkedUp: DID YOU KNOW THAT RUNNING FROM THE POLICE IS ON THE RICE PURITY TEST

QuarkedUp: BETWEEN THAT AND THE DANCING, WE BOTH DROPPED A FEW POINTS

BootyShaker9000: … What’s the ‘Rice Purity Test’?

QuarkedUp: AKSDJFHKSGJD

QuarkedUp sent a link

BootyShaker9000: I regret asking, thank you.

Chapter Text

BootyShaker9000: Leo just jumpscared a horde of caroller’s.

QuarkedUp: as he should, they’re a blight on this world

BootyShaker9000 sent a video

QuarkedUp: HE DID /NOT/ JUST STEAL THEIR MIC

QuarkedUp: Leo can beatbox???

BootyShaker9000 sent a video

QuarkedUp: MIKEY DROPS BARS???

BootyShaker9000: It’s a shared family skill.

QuarkedUp: okay “periodic table song” looking motherfucker

BootyShaker9000: It’s the only part of chemistry I enjoy.

QuarkedUp: fucking nerd

BootyShaker9000: :p

QuarkedUp: mi padres say hello btw

QuarkedUp: I think May has been in cahoots with them, they’re giving me the /eyes/ whenever my phone goes off

QuarkedUp: I’m afraid I’m gonna have to let them down about the possibility of grandkids one more year

BootyShaker9000: If this gambit keeps going on, I’m going to start charging acting fees for playing your fake boyfriend, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: you act like i have done /anything/ to suggest that I am, in fact, in a romantic relationship, babycakes

QuarkedUp: the only wistful sighing I’m doing is for the Egyptian cotton sheets that are about to grace my skin for the next few days

BootyShaker9000: Have your parents picked you up already?

QuarkedUp: yep, heading to their hotel right now

QuarkedUp: i forget that, like, empty space and fields can exist

QuarkedUp: New York~~

BootyShaker9000: What a town.

—

QuarkedUp: I have heard Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas” approximately five times too many during this drive

BootyShaker9000: Want me to cue into the car radio and shoot for six?

QuarkedUp: I BEG YOU TO NOT

—

BootyShaker9000: You have sent a concerning amount of memes to me in the last half an hour.

QuarkedUp: I scavenge all day in the fields and /this/ is how im treated???

QuarkedUp: i want a divorce

BootyShaker9000: Our relationship was built on convenience.

QuarkedUp: :0

QuarkedUp: YOU KNOW WHAT

QuarkedUp: IM KEEPING THE HOODIES

BootyShaker9000: I still have your bomber jacket.

QuarkedUp: …..

QuarkedUp: …….baby please

QuarkedUp: I was just mad when i said that

QuarkedUp: you know i still love you

BootyShaker9000: I will have the papers sent to you in 3-5 business days.

QuarkedUp: GODDAMMIT

—

QuarkedUp: Donatello, you are not READY for this hotel room

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: … I have slight envy for that king sized mattress

QuarkedUp: Grandma Patricia got us the fucking HOOKUP

QuarkedUp: i would like to thank god and also Patricia’s most recent sugar daddy, amen

BootyShaker9000: How old is she?

QuarkedUp: 76 years young.

QuarkedUp: She’ll kick your ass, Vomitello

BootyShaker9000: I don’t doubt that.

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: That bathroom is bigger than my old bedroom.

BootyShaker9000: Nice dinosaur onesie, by the way.

QuarkedUp: DISREGARD

QuarkedUp: I DIDNT REALIZE I CAUGHT MYSELF IN THE MIRROR

BootyShaker9000: I think that’s going to be your new profile photo.

QuarkedUp: DONATHAN “OTHELLO VON RYAN” HAMATO SPLINTERSON

QuarkedUp: I will reign HELLFIRE upon you

BootyShaker9000: Wow, I’m so scared of the little Tyrannosaurus Rex.

QuarkedUp: count your fucking days

BootyShaker9000: <3 

—

QuarkedUp: this is a “santa tell me” hate post

QuarkedUp: ariana can catch these fucking hands

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: ………

BootyShaker9000: ………….

QuarkedUp: donnie no

QuarkedUp: tell it to me straight

BootyShaker9000: …. I quite enjoy Ariana Grande’s music. 

BootyShaker9000: I find her singing to be delightful

QuarkedUp: BETRAYAL

QuarkedUp: BACKSTABBERY

BootyShaker9000: Sorry, sweetums. 

BootyShaker9000: No one comes in between me and my pop ladies.

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: Well that’s a bit dramatic.

—

BootyShaker9000: Numbers on you looking over the PKK blueprints before I put Shelldon on fabricating the base?

QuarkedUp: oh thank fucking god, send it over

QuarkedUp: I’ve been stuck in a conversation with my tradfem auntie for the last 30 minutes

QuarkedUp: you’re giving me my exit ticket from hearing about “proper gender roles in society” for the third time

QuarkedUp: and now she’s tearing into the littles for grabbing a second dinner roll, what a lady

BootyShaker9000: Yikes.

QuarkedUp: yeah....

QuarkedUp: I think my cousin is gonna come put her in her place if my auntie drops one more line about “her place as a woman.”

BootyShaker9000: Record it?

QuarkedUp: you already know. 

—

QuarkedUp: COUSIN BATTLE: HOLIDAY SEASON 2026

QuarkedUp sent a video

BootyShaker9000: Is that uno?

QuarkedUp: yes

QuarkedUp: I have lost for the past 4 years, I’m not fucking losing again

BootyShaker9000: Best of luck!

—

QuarkedUp: :(

QuarkedUp: :,(

BootyShaker9000: You poor thing.

QuarkedUp: send me consolation memes for my sorrows

BootyShaker9000: Already on it.

— 

QuarkedUp: would you like to form an alliance… with me

BootyShaker9000: How vague!

QuarkedUp: I forgot to bring my waterproof cover for my prosthetics, so I got left behind for the family pool shenanigans

QuarkedUp: do you want to fuck it up on minecraft with me for a while

BootyShaker9000: Absolutely.

BootyShaker9000: Give me five minutes to find my headset.

QuarkedUp: ooooo, real gamer we got here

BootyShaker9000: Yes.

BootyShaker9000: Yes I am.

QuarkedUp: pfft okay lozer

QuarkedUp: meet you on discord?

BootyShaker9000: Gotcha.

—

“Hello!” you said as you hopped onto the call, “It’s been a minute, babycakes.”

“You act like I have gotten a moment’s peace since you’ve left,” Donnie’s dry tone crackled in through your old headphones, “You text me so much, it’s like you never left.”

“Can’t have you missing your sweetums, can we?” you crooned into your mic.

“Eyeroll,” Donnie said, “I really am going to start charging you for fake boyfriend fees.”

You cackled. Man, you had missed your buddy.

“I sent you a link to the world,” you said, “Hop on, you scoundrel.”

“I hope you understand that I will be committing war crimes as soon as technologically possible,” Donnie said. You could hear the click of his keyboard through his mic as he loaded onto the world.

“Can we get a base built first? Maybe some resources collected?” you tried. 

“No one ever lets me shine,” Donnie whined. 

You imagined him throwing his head back with his arm over his head and smiled. Donnie finally loaded into the game, prompting you to give him a welcoming hit.

(He had an Atomic Lass skin on his avatar, because of course he did.)

“Hey now,” you said, “I never said ‘no’, I just said we should build a base first.”

Donnie hit you back and started bouncing around your avatar.

“Can we build a needlessly complex and meticulously timed set of explosions that destroy this world down to the bedrock?” Donnie asked, sounding giddy.

You crouched at him in game and attempted to break the blocks beneath his feet, “Only if you do the redstone engineering.”

You broke the block, but Donnie managed to hop over to the next one in time.

“That’s what I was hoping you would say!” Donnie practically squealed into the mic.

(God, you had missed hearing Donnie’s voice.)

“Lay out the game plan for me, Dee-dee, and I’ll start mining.”

“What’s your experience with building mob farms?” 

“Do I look like a noob?” you asked, a little offended. 

“Well–”

“Don’t answer that.”

—

“Is it time, Dee-dee?” you asked. In the middle of your base, there was a single lever mounted on a gold block. Donnie had been yelling at you for the past hour not to touch it, which of course only made you more eager to see what it does. You had only been able to quell your burning curiosity by going down into the mines or spending time mindlessly harvesting gunpowder from the mob spawner. 

You had seen very little of Donatello during your gameplay, but he was constantly chattering to you about redstone mechanics you couldn’t quite bring yourself to understand. 

“I do believe it is time, sweetums,” Donnie announced, “Two straight hours of genius mechanics and engineering to this final catharsis.”

“Drama queen.”

“It’s a passtime,” Donnie admitted, “Don’t forget to max out your render distance before we start.”

“Jesus, how far did you set this thing up?” you asked. Donnie’s avatar walked into the base and crouched next to the lever.

“Just enough,” he said cryptically, “Would you like to do the honors?”

“Oh fuck yeah,” you said. With a flick of the lever, your avatars were moved up the tower that made up your base with a complex moving staircase you didn’t even know was built into it. By the time the two of you reached the top of the tower, the explosions in the distance just barely starting.

“You put fireworks in this?” you asked, absolutely dumbfounded.

“Pizazz,” Donnie replied. You could imagine him sitting in his chair and flapping his hands from excitement while he watched his build come into fruition.

The two of you sat and watched while the world around you was taken over by explosions and decimated all the way down to the bedrock. It was a little terrifying, to be honest.

“Donnie… you have impressed the shit out of me,” you said. The two of you were left on a little island that was floating above a sea of bedrock by the time the TNT had finished going off. You appreciated that Donnie had let your little castle survive the mayhem.

“Why thank you, my engineering skills are only enhanced by the world of Minecraft,” Donnie said, sounding smug.

“I’m letting the ego pass just because you have made my day,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“Anything to keep you company while you’re abandoned, sweetums,” he said, “It is but my humble duty during the time of giving.”

“My shining light in the dark abyss that is this season, truly,” you said as you readjusted your headphones.

“It’s Christmas?” Donnie asked, sounding confused, “It’s the most cheery of all of the holidays.” 

You huffed out air through your nose, “It’s overhyped, this excitement should be reserved for the more noble occasions of Halloween, Valentine’s, and May the fourth.”

“I hate to break it to you, sweetums, but it's not even Christmas Eve yet,” he said. Donnie looked at you with his avatar, “Is… family life not going as well as you’ve been telling me?”

“No, they’re delightful, I just…” you trailed off, thinking of how to put it, “I really don’t like this time of year if I'm being honest.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Besides the same twenty songs on repeat?” you asked, attempting to change the tone of the conversation.

“You know what I mean, sweetums,” Donnie chided.

Dammit, foiled by Donnie’s perceptive ass again.

“Don, I appreciate you,” you said, “but Christmas isn’t the time for taking on another person’s emotional baggage.”

“Hmm,” Donnie hummed. You heard him leave the voice call on Discord at the same moment your phone started buzzing.

You answered the video call, half laughing, half incredulous.

“I guess I should’ve expected this,” you said, setting your phone against the screen of your laptop. Donnie was at his desk and wearing one of the hoodies you had finally given back.

(It was only a matter of time before you had your hands on it again.)

“Right-o, my dear comrade,” Donnie said, giving you a smile through the screen, “Talking about things is part of our deal, remember?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “I would like to speak with a lawyer.”

“Oh? And why is that?” he asked, leaning on his hands as his arms were propped up on the desk.

“I need to renegotiate the terms of our agreement. I obviously agreed to it under duress and false pretenses,” you argued.

Donnie laughed. You could hear the creak of his desk chair as he leaned back. You could tell that he had his feet up on the ledge underneath his desk, a common position when the two of you were working together in the lab.

“We became friends under duress and false pretenses,” Donnie said, “I hardly think that your argument will hold up in a court of law.”

“And who’s damn fault is that, Dee-dee? I was aggressed.”

“Oh you were fine,” Donnie insisted. You stuck your tongue out at him, sparking a laugh from Donnie. The conversation stilled for just a moment.

“If you… truly don’t want to talk about your holiday blues, you don’t have to,” Donnie said softly to break the silence.

“No, it’s not that, it’s just—“ you cut yourself off with a groan, putting your face in your hand, “Gah, this isn’t something that I talk about? Like ever? So I don’t know where to start.”

“Most likely the beginning,” he said, smugly.

You snorted at him, “It all started with a singularity containing all of the mass that ever is or will be at the center of what we now know to be the universe.”

“Pot, kettle, you know the phrase,” Donnie said, rolling his eyes at you.

“It’s your influence, Dee-dee, I was just the sweetest thing before you came along.”

“I somehow doubt that to be true,” he said, crossing his arms in front of him, “You hacked into my accounts within a week of knowing me.”

“Touché,” you said. 

You almost wished Donnie was in the hotel room with you. What had it been, a week since you’d seen each other? Two? It was the longest time the two of you had been apart since you had met. 

(Big rooms didn’t seem so empty when he was next to you.)

“Do you really have the space to hear about my dumb holiday blues?” you asked, feeling unsure of yourself. You fiddled with the tassels of the truly god awful decorative pillows on your bed.

“Do you even need to ask, sweetums?” he asked, “I offered.”

“There’s a thing called common courtesy,” you defended.

“There’s a thing called autism, I happen to have it,” Donnie said, deadpan, “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I don’t have the faculties to lie.”

You barked out a laugh, “You would be a shit counselor.”

“I make a better listener,” Donnie agreed. He pulled a purple water bottle out of nowhere and held it against his chest so the straw was just under his mouth, “Now talk, dum-dum.”

“Meanie,” you said. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to think of how to start, “Okay so…four years ago... yesterday, actually, I got the base of my prosthetics installed into my hand.”

Donnie chirped, sounding surprised, “Oh?”

“Yep,” you said, popping the ‘p’, “They got me healed up just enough after amputation to turn me into a cyborg. The whole thing was just… ugh.”

“Ugh,” Donnie echoed.

“It fucking hurt, to say the least,” you said. You ran your fingers over the metal and polymers that protruded out of the palm of your hand. You could almost feel the pain from the healing process, “And, I don’t know, Christmas was just a few days after they released me from the hospital. I was drugged up and miserable and I couldn’t even… open my presents with my old prosthetics.”

“Because Stockman Tech sucks ass,” Donnie interjected, gesturing with his drink.

“Yes! It really does!” you agreed, “And, like, being hopped up on painkillers that just barely worked just wasn't the idea of the quote unquote ‘holiday spirit’ everyone was trying to make me believe it was. I know I'm so, so lucky for my prosthetics, but it was just…”

You sat there for a second, taking a moment to just look at Donnie’s image on your phone. He nodded his head to beckon you to go on.

“I was really angry for a long time. I…lost a lot of friends that year because of how shitty I was,” you admitted quietly.

“I see you haven’t grown out of it, yet,” Donnie said.

You shook your head, biting your tongue to keep from giving Donnie the satisfaction of you laughing. 

“Thank you for that, Vomitello,” you said, “May, actually, the one that sat me down and made me get my act straight. Everyday since then has been trying to get away from that old version of me. I mean, they’re still me but… I’ve grown? I don’t act like a jerk to everyone anymore?”

“And Christmas is just a more glaring reminder of your former self,” Donnie deduced.

You nodded, “Something along the lines of that, Dee.”

Donnie hummed, thinking for just a moment.

“If it’s any consolation, my brothers and I went through something similar after the Kraang attack,” Donnie said, casting his gaze to the side while he talked, “We couldn’t speak about what happened for months, much less address the issues that led to the Kraang getting free in the first place. I was holed up in my lab, Leo was constantly training, Mikey was disappearing every night, doing who knows what.”

“Raph was the only one keeping the family together,” Donnie said. He looked up at you and shrugged, “We would’ve fallen apart without him.”

“Here’s to being a post-trauma shitass,” you tried. Donnie shook his head at you with a smile.

“Those fuckers really got us down, huh?” you said softly, “I hope you and your brothers kicked the shit out of the Kraang.”

Donnie gave you a wry grin, “We did. Whenever my migraines start, it helps to know that Kraang prime is out floating in the prison dimension for eternity with a giant hole in his forehead.”

“Courtesy of your tech?”

“Courtesy of my rad ninja skills, actually,” Donnie said. He looked smug for just a moment before remembering the conversation at hand.

“Regardless of ‘shit ass’ behavior,” Donnie started, making air quotes, "I don’t believe that our teenage selves are all that indicative of the adults we grow into. I mean, if my younger self could see the types of processors I use now, he’d blow a gasket.”

“Oh baby Donnie, the horrors he had yet to unleash upon the tech world,” you said, putting on a dream-like voice.

“Critics don’t get shares in Genius Built, trademark pending,” Donnie teased.

“Wow, I’m sure I’ll just be so broke with my equally, if not more successful, prosthetics design company,” you deadpanned, “You’re not the only big player entering the game, Don.”

Donnie let out a soft chirp at that, one that almost reminded you of a coo.

“Did it help at all? To talk about it?” Donnie asked.

“It did, Dee,” you said, “Thank you for listening.”

“No probbles,” Donnie responded, “I may not be high on the, er, empathy scale, but I am… attempting to be better at the whole emotions thing.”

“Careful now, that might ruin your quote unquote ‘bad boy’ persona,” you teased.

“I trust we can keep this between friends?” 

“Delete my onesie picture and we’ll discuss it.”

Donnie made a noise of consideration, “Better to lose my image, methinks.”

You heard your parents talking just outside the door of your shared room, causing you to sigh. You ducked into the bathroom just to finish out your conversation in peace

“My parents just got back, I’ll text you later?” you asked.

“Sure,” he said, “Please keep me updated on your aunt, I’m betting money on a physical fight before Christmas.”

“Will do,” you said, “And… thank you Donnie, really. I appreciate you.”

Donnie smiled softly at you, “Likewise, sweetums.”

You clicked off the call and held your phone to your chest, taking a moment just to breathe before heading out and facing your parents.

Just a few more days until you were back at the dorms and you could see him properly.

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp: …… hey buddy

QuarkedUp: what’s up with the recent spotify listens over there

BootyShaker9000: You’ve seen nothing.

QuarkedUp: I think i’ve seen you listening to my quote unquote “worst playlist that has ever playlisted”

BootyShaker9000: I think you’re mistaken.

QuarkedUp: i think you’re a bitchass liar 

QuarkedUp: and a closet fan of my “bad punk” music

BootyShaker9000: You will get no answers from me, villain.

QuarkedUp: mmm okay babes

QuarkedUp: i see you

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: Behold.

QuarkedUp: …. that is an impressive tree

QuarkedUp: Behold

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: …I have never seen that much alcohol in my life

QuarkedUp: grandma patricia goes hard, what can I say

QuarkedUp: pray for me

BootyShaker9000: Will do.

—

QuarkedUp: why do relatives ask about my degree if they don’t want to hear about the rad science I do

QuarkedUp: I am surrounded by /imbeciles/

BootyShaker9000: You are preaching to the choir.

BootyShaker9000: How goes the official family reunion?

QuarkedUp: pretty good actually

QuarkedUp: One of my cousins brought an air horn to shut my family up whenever politics get mentioned, so this has been one of the more peaceful years

QuarkedUp: How’s Christmas Eve going on your end?

BootyShaker9000: April just arrived with her girlfriend and we’re expecting the Caseys in a few, it’s going to be a full lair tonight.

BootyShaker9000: Mikey and Raph made us all ugly sweaters, so I am unfortunately /itchy/ for the foreseeable future.

QuarkedUp: awww poor turt

QuarkedUp: numbers on you sending a selfie so I can see the aforementioned monstrosity?

BootyShaker9000: Zero chance, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: That’s fine, I’ll just bribe one of your brothers into taking some photos for me

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: Your alliance with them perturbs me.

QuarkedUp: Sucks to suck babycakes!

QuarkedUp: Oh shit grandma’s busting out the Rage Cage, I’ll catch up with you later

QuarkedUp: have a good night!!

BootyShaker9000: You as well.

—

QuarkedUp: chri

QuarkedUp: it’s chrmuss

QuarkedUp: chrysler

BootyShaker9000: Merry Christmas to you too, my hungover friend.

QuarkedUp: youre not hungover if you dont stop drinking

QuarkedUp: as is the family tradition

BootyShaker9000: Hmmm, concerning!

QuarkedUp: Nah it's all good

QuarkedUp: I had to get the bitch cup last night though

QuarkedUp: my grandmother is /evil/

BootyShaker9000: Well if you’re descended from her, I’m not shocked

QuarkedUp: im so weak and broken

QuarkedUp: and youre so mean to me

BootyShaker9000: Perish.

QuarkedUp: D:

QuarkedUp: ignoring my mistreatment, did you get any good loot today

BootyShaker9000: Leo got all of us matching unicorn onesies.

BootyShaker9000: So it depends on your perception of that gift.

QuarkedUp: OH THATS SICK

QuarkedUp: texting him for pics rn

BootyShaker9000: I suppose that I’m too late to dissuade you.

QuarkedUp: yep 

QuarkedUp: motherfucking payback time

BootyShaker9000: I am just so terrified. 

BootyShaker9000: He said sarcastically.

QuarkedUp: :p

BootyShaker9000: Speaking of Christmas gifts, I have something for you.

QuarkedUp: :D

QuarkedUp: I have stuff for you, too!

QuarkedUp: I get back on the 29th if you wanna meet up

BootyShaker9000: Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to come over to the lair for New Year’s?

BootyShaker9000: We won’t have as many guests as usual, but we typically do a Super Smash Bros tournament and decorate cookies.

QuarkedUp: isnt cookie decorating a christmas thing

BootyShaker9000: Come over and find out. :) 

QuarkedUp: Alright, you got me

QuarkedUp: get ready to have your ass beat in smash

BootyShaker9000: I doubt that.

—

QuarkedUp: I’ve just tried to run a bath for 15 minutes

QuarkedUp: I didn’t even put the stopper in

QuarkedUp: I’m so tired

BootyShaker9000: Note to self, Subject 42069 does not recover well from substances

QuarkedUp: eat dicks donatello

BootyShaker9000: <3

—

QuarkedUp: egyptian cotton sheets, how I will miss your luxury

BootyShaker9000: Oh you poor thing.

QuarkedUp: I AM A POOR THING

QuarkedUp: I SIT

QuarkedUp: IN MY DESOLATE ROOM

QuarkedUp: NO LIGHTS

QuarkedUp: NO MUSIC

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: This you, sweetums?

QuarkedUp: :( 

QuarkedUp: :(((((

QuarkedUp: always a discord mod and never a discord kitten smh

BootyShaker9000: You are no longer welcome in my house.

QuarkedUp: that has literally never stopped me

—

QuarkedUp: what’s the dress code for this occasion 

BootyShaker9000: Whatever you don’t mind getting frosting on.

QuarkedUp: are we decorating cookies or fighting with them

BootyShaker9000: Yes.

QuarkedUp: gah

QuarkedUp: this changes my plans of being the hottest person in the lair tonight

BootyShaker9000: Excuse me?

BootyShaker9000: I am /right/ here.

QuarkedUp: oh shush

QuarkedUp sent a photo

QuarkedUp: is this fit sufficient?

BootyShaker9000: That is MY shirt, you scoundrel.

BootyShaker9000: How are you sneaking away with this much of my clothing???

QuarkedUp: a magician never reveals their secrets

BootyShaker9000: You are insufferable.

QuarkedUp: im adorable

—

BootyShaker9000: Would you like to spend the night?

QuarkedUp: uhh, sure!

BootyShaker9000: Cool cool cool.

BootyShaker9000: Leo’s portalling ability gets a little… funky after midnight.

BootyShaker9000: I would also be happy to escort you home if you did not wish to stay.

QuarkedUp: nah, it’s cool

QuarkedUp: always down to get my donnie cuddles on

BootyShaker9000: That will not be happening.

BootyShaker9000: Don’t forget to bring pajamas.

QuarkedUp: aye aye captain

BootyShaker9000: Pajamas that are /not/ my pilfered clothing.

QuarkedUp: boo you whore

—

You climbed down the rungs of the lair with your overnight bag and was greeted immediately by all the boys in the living room.

“Oh, hello Donnie’s mysterious friend!”

“Mikey, we’ve met before,” you said, rubbing the top of his head while you passed his seat. You quickly settled next to Donnie on the couch and greeted him with a tap of your foot on his calf, “You sent me a Tiktok like an hour ago.”

“I know, I just like to tease Donnie. He’s very good at keeping you all to himself in that lab of his,” Mikey said, sticking his tongue out at Donnie. Donnie gave him an unimpressed look.

“Some of us have sharing problems,” Leo chimed in, drawing out the last syllable.

“I’m not even going to dignify this harassment with a response,” Donnie said. He knocked his knee against yours to say hello back. 

“Donnie just loves me so much he has a hard time letting me have other friends,” you said, poking Donnie in the side, “Isn’t that right, Dee-dee?”

Donnie looked at the offending hand and looked back up at you. You could see his eye twitch when he registered that you were, in fact, still wearing his shirt, “You are officially uninvited. Leo, please portal them home.”

“Yeesh Dee, that’s not how we treat our guests,” Raph said, “Didn’t Pops teach you better?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, crossing his arms behind his back, “We can kick them out after they get demolished in Super Smash Bros,”.

“I’m in this to win this, pretty boy,” you said, flipping him off. Leo let out a shocked laugh, tilting his head at you.

“As delightful as this pissing contest is,” Donnie said, standing up from the couch, “there’s a few things we need to attend to beforehand. Sweetums, if you’d please.”

Donnie gestured for you to follow him. With an eye roll, you got up and did so. You could hear the tell-tale sound of a smack and Leo’s pained whine as the two of you rounded the corner. You had half a mind to peak out the wall to see what the commotion was, but chose to keep following Donnie instead.

“I have your gift in the lab,” Donnie explained, typing in his password and unlocking the door, “I figured that it would be better to exchange presents before the festivities.”

“For a second there I thought you were going to put me to work before we were allowed to go have fun,” you said. You elbowed him in the side playfully as you walked together to his desk.

“Scoff, science is fun, you cretin,” Donnie said. 

You pulled his chair out and sat in it, taking the opportunity to pull a slightly crumpled gift bag out of your backpack. 

“For you, my terrapin friend,” you said. You held the bag out in front of you for Donnie to take.

Donnie paused his search through his desk drawer and rummaged through the bag with an excited smile. The back of his sweatpants moved from his half-hazardly hidden tail wagging.

“This… this is just full of my hoodies,” Donnie said, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Which I will be borrowing again, don’t you worry,” you said “Look at the jacket in the bottom, you dum-dum.”

Donnie did so, unfolding it and holding it out in front of him.

“Is this…” Donnie trailed off, flipping it around to see the design on the back, “Oh mi gosh! It is!”

Donnie squealed, putting on the purple bomber jacket. He spun around in it so fast that you could barely make out the ABBA logo on the back.

You found yourself squeezed up into a bone crushing hug and plopped back onto your seat at lightning speed, barely able to register what just happened. Donnie bounded around the room, taking rapid-fire selfies at every angle.

“I take it that you like it?” you asked, hitting your chest with your fist as you coughed from the hug.

“Do I?” Donnie said, bouncing back over to you and wriggling where he stood, “What is that thing you always say? This is considered a… marriage proposal in some countries?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes at him, “You’re an easy bride to win over.”

“Purple. Satin. Jacket,” Donnie affirmed, “I am but a simple man, sweetums.”

You shook your head in amusement, holding out your hands, “Alright, my gift now.”

Donnie looked even giddier. He started rummaging through his drawers again and waved a hand towards you, “Close your eyes and hold out your non-dominant hand.”

“This feels like a trap.”

“I assure you that it is not,” Donnie said, still flapping his hand at you, “Please comply.”

You scrunched your eyes closed and limply held out your arm for Donnie. You felt cold metal against your wrist and heard the sound of a clasp snapping together.

“If that’s a handcuff I have a few requests,” you said, opening one eye to peek. Donnie caught you immediately and shoved his hand in your face.

“Eyes closed for just a few more moments,” Donnie said. He removed his hand from your face and used it to grab at your wrist instead, “Only amateurs use handcuffs, anyways. Genius Built employs semi-lethal electroshock bullets to subdue criminals.”

You so badly wanted to correct him on what you meant, but chose not to.

“Alright, you can look now,” Donnie said.

You brought your wrist closer to your face so you could inspect it. The band on your arm looked similar to Donnie’s tech gauntlet, but slimmer with a smaller screen.

“I know you didn’t want me to switch your tech to Genius Built, but I still wanted you to be able to cue into my systems,” Donnie explained. He motioned for you to place your wrist back into his hand, so you did so. He pressed a button underneath the screen to display a hologram above the screen, “Beyond having an immediate bypass into our security, you can also voice call and text from virtually anywhere on the planet.”

“Are there any games on here?” you asked.

“Who do you even take me for? Of course there’s games,” Donnie said. He tapped at your screen and talked you through a few of the different functions that he installed into the Mini Gauntlet 2.0. You nodded your head and asked questions while he talked.

“And the last feature, assuming I haven’t forgotten anything,” Donnie said, gesturing with his hand as he wrapped up, “In the event of an emergency, you can also hit the panic button and my brothers and I will have your location immediately sent to us.”

“You seem to be under the impression that I'm getting into trouble often,” you said tilting your head at him.

“There’s no reason to be unprepared,” Donnie said, shrugging, “You have that 7 pm lab next semester and… I worry, sometimes.”

“Over little ol’ me?” you asked in a terrible southern accent with your hand on your cheek just so, “You flatter me so, kind sir.”

Donnie let go of your wrist to swat at your arm, “Spirits only know why I became friends with you.”

“Because I’m a delight?” you tried. Donnie swatted at you again.

You laughed, catching his hand in yours, “Thank you, Donnie. I love your gift, overprotectiveness and all.”

Donnie scrunched up his nose at you but the delighted look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“How could you not? I made it, after all,” Donnie said, pulling away his hand and striking another pose.

“Okay JoJo,” you said, getting up from the chair, “Let’s get back to the festivities before your brothers get worried.”

“If you insist,” Donnie said, following close behind you.

—

While you and Donnie were in the lab, a new person was in the living room setting up the projector. A box containing several gaming consoles was right next to him with cords strewn about everywhere.

He did a double take when he saw you walking next to Donnie, his eyes going wide. You decided to walk up to him and introduce yourself.

You held out your hand from him to shake, “Hello, I’m–”

“I know,” he said, cutting you off. Donnie raised a single eyebrow at him. He had the sense to look sheepish before correcting himself and grasping your hand, “I mean, nice to meet you, I’m Casey.”

You gave his hand a firm shake, giving him your best smile regardless of your confusion, “Nice to meet you, too.”

“Need some assistance with the projector, Jr?” Donnie asked, appearing right beside you.

Casey about melted where he was standing, “Please, I’m not sure why Sensei put me in charge of it.”

Mikey and Raph came into the room with an armload of drinks and snacks each. You went to assist them, helping them arrange everything on the center table.

“You fuckers ready to get smashed?” Leo said, appearing with assorted blankets in his arms and precariously. He plopped them on one of the couches, claiming a large blue quilt for himself.

“Are we waiting for Cassandra?” Raph asked while he did his absolute best to put a straw into a capri sun. Mikey took pity on him and did it for him.

“Mom’s on a case tonight,” Casey said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand, “She wishes ‘valor and honor’ to the champion.”

“Oh that’s for sure going to be me,” Leo said, flexing his arms.

“You haven’t won in three years, Leo,” Mikey said. He nabbed a blanket from the pile and settled in next to Leo, “It’s obviously going to be me.”

“Nuh-uh, it’s statistics!” Leo said, waving his hands about.

“Do you even know what that means?” Donnie asked.

“It means I’m going to kick your ass.”

Raph sat down in the large loveseat, his capri sun held delicately in his large hands. He watched over his brothers as they bickered, looking so much more like a resigned dad than their older brother in that moment.

You walked over to him and leaned against the armrest of his seat.

“Does it always start like this with them?” you asked, crossing your arms observing the chaos with Raph.

“Yep,” he said, sipping down the entire caprisun in one gulp, “I could stop them… or I could just destroy them after they’re done.”

“You’re a scary man, Raphael,” you said.

Raph gave you a snaggletooth smile after loudly draining any last bit of juice out of the packet, “Just wait until you see Mikey after a few juice boxes, he gets lethal.”

You barked out a laugh, moving away from his chair, “Good to know.”

You went to pull a dark grey blanket out of the pile and wrapped it around yourself, just barely ducking under the waving hands and launched expletives. You perched yourself on the corner of the other couch to watch the madness ensue between the brothers.

“You’re a sore loser,” Leo said, pointing his finger in Mikey’s face.

“And you’re a Neanderthal,” Donnie said, shaking his head. He turned around and retrieved the box with the controllers

Mikey stuck his tongue out at Leo and bounded over to help Donnie pass them out.

“I’m a terrapin, you dumbass,” Leo defended. Donnie snorted as he handed Raph one of the larger controllers they had on hand.

“I don’t think that’s what he meant, babes,” you said, cooing at Leo. He gave you a look.

“Who’s side are you on?”

“No one’s, I’m a neutral party,” you said, shrugging. You took a controller from Don with a smile as he got to you.

“Your hands are so small, the stock switch controllers must be like a full sized controller to you,” Donnie said, schooling his face neutral. You could see the bemusement in his eyes.

“I’m going to make you eat shit,” you threatened.

Casey giggled quietly on his end of the couch, which you appreciated. He had an uncanny familiarity with you for someone that you had just met.

Donnie must’ve just talked about you a lot.

Probably.

“We must abide by the will of the brackets, sweetums,” Donnie said, setting the box back on the cart. He plopped next to you and started tapping at his gauntlet.

“Do you have an algorithm for Super Smash Bros, too?” you asked, half-way teasing.

“Why yes I do,” Donnie said, looking smug, “It’s uploaded to your Mini-Gauntlet as well if you ever find the need for it.”

“With your green ass always hanging around? I think you have it covered, Dee-dee,” you said, elbowing him for good measure. Donnie pushed you back into your side of the couch with a palm to your forehead. You allowed yourself to fall back and put your legs over Donnie’s in relation. 

“Anyways,” Donnie asserted, “Since we have a few less players than usual, we’re going to have to switch things up a bit this year.”

Donnie expanded the hologram from his gauntlet so everyone could see. One large bracket  appeared at the top with a smaller bracket at the bottom.

“Keeping with the tradition of 1v1’s, we’ll have to do a modified bracket. We’ll start with two randomly picked matches on either end of the bracket and the two people who are not picked to begin with will act as the semi-finalists before the final match. In order to keep playing time equal, I’ve elected to include a ‘Loser’s Cup’ this year,” Donnie explained, gesturing with his hands as he did so, “Everyone that doesn’t get to the finals will have a chance to recapture some lost pride.”

“I won’t be needing that second chance,” Leo said. He blew on his nails and rubbed them against his chest, “It’s just a champion thing, it’s cute for you guys, though.”

Donnie blinked at him, but just moved on instead of picking a fight. He pressed a button on his gauntlet and loaded up the names on the bracket.

“Looks like you’ll have a chance to put your money where your mouth is because you’re going first,” Donnie said, giving him a shit eating grin, “Oh, and you’re up against Raph! Good luck.”

Leo blanched, looking between Donnie and Raph frantically. He gave Raph an uneasy smile, “You know I love you, right?”

“Donnie, start up the Switch,” Raph said. He turned away from Leo and leaned his seat back with a confident ease. Mikey bounded over to Raph and sat on the back of his chair, his legs dangling over Raph’s shoulder.

Leo’s face was the picture of shock at Mikey’s betrayal, but he quickly squared his shoulders and put on his game face.

You looked up at Donnie with your hand to your mouth, doing your absolute best to hold back your laughter. Donnie bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head at you. He leaned back fully into the couch, tugging your legs up with him while he scooted back.

You and Donnie were selected as the semi-finalist competitors, so the two of you had a long time to sit back and relax while the battles raged on in front of you.

Raph destroyed Leo with a truly disrespectful final attack. You watched Leo cry out in horror as Princess Peach threw Bayonetta up into the air and hit her with a side attack the moment she got close to touching the platform. Leo didn’t even have a chance to recover, just a few seconds of button smashing to prevent the inevitable death of falling off the map.

Leo looked at Raph with the most defeated look you’ve ever seen.

“You’re my third favorite brother,” Leo said solemnly.

“There’s still hope for you in the Loser’s cup!” Mikey said with a great beaming smile.

“Thin ice, Angelo, thin.”

Casey managed to beat Mikey in a similar fashion to Raph. You had to admit, the dude was a little terrifying with the way he played. You could have sworn that his eyes went white while he battled his Luigi against Mikey’s Pikachu.

You felt a small tinge of fear when you realized that you would be playing next.

“Is there any chance that you would switch places with me on the bracket?” you asked, sitting up leaning in close to Donnie’s side.

“Do you really want to go against Raph instead?” he asked back.

You looked up at him and melted back into your spot on the couch.

“I’m going to be destroyed body and soul.”

“Most definitely,” Donnie said with a pat to your calf. 

“I will beat your ass in the loser’s cup,” you said. You ground your heel against the side of his thigh. Donnie swatted your foot away.

“Just try not to lose in the first five minutes, sweetums.”

You were, in fact, destroyed within five minutes. Five minutes and thirty seconds if you were being especially generous with yourself.

“Mario and Donkey Kong, guess we’re going classic today,” you attempted, giving Casey your best smile.

Casey just shrugged and started the game. You bit the inside of your cheek at his response.

No hope, you had no hope. You couldn’t even wish for a well-earned death. 

You honestly gave it your all against Casey, but the dude was practically psychic with the way that he anticipated your moves. He had a read on you like no one had before.

You knew it was over for you when the smash ball appeared on the screen. Casey beelined for it, hitting it with precise strikes while you did your best just to get near it in time. You realized your mistake when Casey activated his final Smash and hit you with a giant fireball that threw Donkey Kong off the screen.

You stared helplessly at Mario’s winning end screen.

“The holiday season really is over,” you said, slumping back into the couch.

“Tell me about it,” Leo grumbled from his side of the room.

The only thing that made you feel a little better was watching Donnie get demolished without any mercy from Raph.

Raph had a very similar approach to Casey. Quick attack combos and an overwhelming amount of maneuverability that just made it impossible to get a lead on them.

You patted Donnie’s shoulder when he was defeated. He slumped into the couch with nearly identical posture as yours.

“We’re still… good gamers, right?” you asked Donnie.

“We have to be.”

“Then why do we suck so bad?”

“Those two are just monsters,” he muttered darkly.

You nodded your head in agreement and handed him a bag of sour candy as the consolation prize. The two of you sulked side by side while Casey and Raph began the final showdown. You swore your eyes were going crossed as you watched them. 

Princess Peach and Mario were a blur on the screen, the only way you could tell anything was happening was by the damage going up on the bottom of the screen.

“You’ve been practicing,” Raph called to Casey, tilting his head back towards him.

“Got trained by the best,” Casey said, his eyes trained on the screen and his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth.

With a final few button smashes, Casey managed to get the Smash ball and send Raph off of the map the same way that he did to you just minutes earlier. Casey let out a slow breath, stretching his arms out in front of him while the final cutscene played. 

“Dang Junior, you whooped me,” Raph said with pride.

“Like I said, trained by the best,” Casey said, a giant smile on his face. Mikey jumped off of the back of Raph’s chair and bounded over to Casey, picking him up and lifting him over his head with ease.

“We have our champion!” Mikey yelled, “All hail!”

“All hail,” the brothers repeated with various levels of enthusiasm. Mikey dropped Casey back down on the couch and rubbed the top of his head for good measure. Casey beamed at him, happily adjusting back into his seat.

“Alright, time for the loser cup,” Donnie said, pulling up the bracket once more, “Looks like Leo and I are going first.”

“Prepare to get creamed, Dontron,” Leo said, perking up from his sofa.

“Like you did last round?” Donnie asked, pulling up the character selection screen and immediately choosing Wolf.

“Shut up you fucking furry,” Leo said, flicking through the different colors for Bayonetta.

“We quite literally have scales, Nardo.”

“I’m going to scale your mom.”

“Ooh, nice one,” you said as you shoved candy into your mouth.

Donnie gave you the side eye, “Please don’t encourage him, sweetums.”

“You’ll find I do what I want,” you said, your voice muffled around the candy. Donnie pushed your chin up to close your mouth.

“Do you not have manners?” he asked

“When I took your mom out to dinner last night, yes,” you said. Leo raised his hand to give you an air high five, which you quickly reciprocated.

“Imbeciles,” Donnie said fondly, shaking his head.

Donnie and Leo’s fight dragged on the longest, the two of them both fond of evading and striking from behind. You almost wanted to poke at Donnie just to get him to land a hit already instead of getting chased around the platforms.

The match was close, but Leo pulled ahead with a few lucky attacks when Donnie got sloppy.

“No!” Donnie said, doing his best to jump away from Bayonetta. Evasion became his downfall when Leo managed to strike him off of the platform one last time, giving him no hope for recovery.

“Ha! Suck on them apples!” Leo said, jumping up on the sofa pointing at Donnie with both hands. Leo started doing a little victory dance, narrowly avoiding the popcorn Mikey and Casey were pelting at him.

“I’m going to remember this,” Donnie said solemnly, his right eye twitching at Leo.

“Dang, get good Donnie,” you said, poking at his side. 

Donnie snapped his head towards you and narrowed his eyes, “My wrath will not be reserved for Leo alone.”

“Wow, I’m so afraid of the theater kid,” you deadpanned, “Mikey, our turn.”

“Can I forfeit?” Mikey asked, “I’m having a, uh, ‘no hands’ moment.”

“As gamemaster, I permit this,” Donnie said, waving his hand to shoo Mikey into his seat, “Leo, you’re up again.”

Mikey gave Donnie an appreciative smile. You didn’t miss the way that Mikey flexed his hands and clenched them together again. You made a mental note to send him a list of stretches for… whatever he had going on.

“To the biggest loser, Leo,” you said, raising your controller to him.

Leo tilted his head at you, “I’m not sure if that’s a threat or good luck.”

“Depends on how badly I beat your ass.”

“Oh! I see how it is.”

You and Leo were pretty evenly matched but, like with Donnie, Leo wore you down with hitting you with attacks that you just couldn’t avoid, ones that made absolutely no sense. You attempted to get Leo back, but every time you moved to hit him he just redirected it towards you.

You collapsed against Donnie after Leo killed you for the last time, “Avenge me, Donnie.”

He flicked your forehead, scrunching up his snout at you when you whined, “You’re dramatic.”

You caught Leo’s victory dance out of the corner of your eye. Casey jumped on to his back and dumped the bowl of popcorn on his head, laughing loudly at Leo’s protests.

You stuck your tongue out at him and fully went limp against him, trying to crush him with your body weight.

“Cookie time now? Fellas?” Raph asked, tilting his head at the two of you.

“Only for you, Raph,” you said. You rolled off of Donnie and stood up, holding your hand out to pull Donnie up as well. He sighed, taking your hand in his.

—

“This seems like a disaster waiting to happen,” you said as you followed the boys into the kitchen. Mikey pulled out a mixing bowl with several different colored frosting bags delicately placed in it from the refrigerator. The table was full of about 50 different types of sprinkles, frosting tips, and various baking accouterments along with a giant pile of sugar cookies.

“It usually is,” Donnie said, “My house bots have to spend the entire month of January scraping frosting off of every surface.”

“If some of us would follow the rules of the sticking contest, that wouldn’t happen,” Mikey chimed in. He started to place the bags of frosting around the table and set out a plate for everyone.

Raph squinted his eyes at Mikey, “You said a light throw, that was a light throw!”

“You threw that cookie so hard it violated the Geneva convention,” Donnie said.

“I had frosting stuck to my forehead for days,” Leo chimed in.

You giggled while you watched them, figuring this was an argument that had been repeated a few times before. 

“Does, uh, anyone want to fill me in on what exactly this contest is about?” you asked, jutting in before the conversation devolved too far.

“I am so glad you asked!” Mikey said. He slid in front of you with a chef’s coat that appeared out of absolutely nowhere, “The Hamato New Year’s cookie contest is graded on technique, creativity, and stickability, all judged by your one and only Michelangelo and Splinter! The father-son duo known to make bakers feel the pain .”

Mikey emphasized his statement with jazz hands, a movement starkly contrasting his tone.

You blinked at him, glancing at Donnie for further clarification.

“We don’t actually do anything to the loser,” Donnie said, “The pain is only metaphorical, sweetums.”

“The emotional trauma isn’t,” Raph muttered darkly. Mikey stuck his tongue out at him, flipping around to perch on the counter top to watch over everyone.

“After the murders you just committed? I’d say it’s fair game,” Leo said. He elbowed Raph and took a place at the table.

“I didn’t even win this year!” Raph defended, “Why don’t you pick on the actual champion?”

“Hey, don’t drag me into this,” Casey said. He sat next to Leo and started gathering different containers of sprinkles, “I’m innocent.”

“Yes you are and we love you for that,” Leo affirmed, “Raph, just start frosting your cookie.”

Raph grumbled, but sat down at the table. You and Donnie sidled up next to each other, taking one side of the table for yourselves.

Raph squeezed the white frosting bag too hard early on, the tip completely detaching from the bag and destroying your plans to craft out snowy skyscrapers on your cookie. He noticed the pained look you gave him while he wiped the frosting on the front of his shirt.

“I, uh, hope you didn’t need that one,” Raph said, giving you an apologetic look.

You shook your head, forcing a smile, “It’s all good, big man, I’m nothing but an improviser."

“And a future loser,” Donnie said, nudging you in the side. He nearly made you smudge the current line of frosting you were putting down.

“You’re a current loser, so I don’t want to hear shit from you,” you said, gesturing at him with the end of your frosting bag. You accidentally squirted a little frosting from the back, shooting it at Donnie.

Donnie stood still, looking at the end of the frosting bag and glancing down to his hoodie.

You didn’t have a second to defend yourself before Donnie smeared you across the forehead with the frosting spatula he had in hand.

“You did not just do that,” you said, wiping at your face with the back of your hand.

“It was payback,” Donnie shrugged. He went to lay down another layer of the 3D pyramid he was currently crafting onto his cookie. You picked up your spatula and smacked him across the chest with it.

“Whoops,” you said, shrugging. Donnie looked at you up and down, presumably contemplating the cost of ruining his own shirt.

“Something the matter, Dee-dee?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

Donnie blinked at you for a second and went full attack mode on you, hitting your sides with his spatula and doing his best to get frosting in your hair with his frosting bag. You screeched, grabbing your spatula and attempting to parry his strikes. You jumped away from him, quickly settling into your best attack stance.

“En garde, you nerd,” you said, wiggling your spatula at him.

Donnie smirked, twirling his spatula in his hand and making his attack. He lunged at you but just barely missed the side of your cheek, allowing you to slide past him and get at the back of his head with your frosting bag.

He snapped his head around and looked at you while he felt the back of his neck with his wrist.

“Cheap shot,” Donnie said. He lunged at you again but feinted this time, taking the chance to swipe at your legs with his foot. You nearly fell backwards but caught yourself, doing your best to shoot frosting at Donnie’s face.

“That’s not what your mom said last night,” you replied, getting a laugh out of Leo.

He ducked under the shot, but you still managed to get a bit of frosting on his shoulder. The two of you started to sword fight the best you could with the spatulas, getting each other with frosting with just the slightest opening.

“I see that the kitchen has become a warzone yet another year,” a new voice said from the doorway. You paused where you were standing, your hand still raised and ready to smack Donnie with the spatula. You slowly turned your head to the door and saw a small rat man in a robe standing there.

You dropped your arm, feeling yourself go red.

This was not how you wanted to meet Donnie’s dad.

Splinter tip-toed his way through the mess, moving to stand near you, “You are a new one. Which of my boys invited you?”

Donnie looked at you with wide eyes and shook his head behind Splinter. You were a dick, so you ratted him out anyways. 

“Donnie did,” you said, nodding your head up at him. Donnie smacked his forehead with his hand, looking pained.

Splinter looked at you up and down, taking you in in your frosting covered mess… and Donnie’s shirt.

(You were mentally smacking yourself for that one.)

“Are you also a brainiac like Purple?” Splinter asked.

“Not as bad, but I am studying to be one,” you said. 

Splinter nodded at you approvingly. You quirked a smile when you noticed Raph mirroring his body language.

“This will do,” Splinter said. He tugged Donnie down to his level and whispered into the side of his head. Donnie turned bright red after five seconds.

“Dad, it’s not—“

Splinter whispered harshly and then let Donnie go. He rubbed his hands together and walked over to the cookies, “Orange, join me. It is time for judging.”

You covered your mouth with your hand, remembering your half finished cookie. You looked towards Donnie, who was just staring off into space in a daze.

You were taking the L this year, it seemed.

—

Leo, surprisingly, had won in all three categories. You had to clutch at your stomach from laughing so hard at Leo’s face when Splinter flung his creation at the designated wall. Yours had crumpled on impact, Raph’s and Casey’s slid down within the first five seconds, and Donnie’s was unceremoniously dropped on the floor and disqualified by default.

“I think that's enough excitement for the night,” Raph said, eating one of the unfrosted cookies, “Donnie? The time?”

“Approximately 11:35,” Donnie said, licking frosting off of his fingers before tapping at his tech gauntlet, “I would suggest a speedy clean up and then moving to the living room to watch the ball drop.”

“That still hasn’t happened, Dontron?” Leo asked, leaning his arm on Donnie’s shoulder, “We were so sure after last ye-”

Donnie cut him off with a harsh elbow to the gut and an unimpressed look on his face, “You use that joke every year, Nardo.”

“And every year it’s funny,” Leo wheezed, clutching at his stomach, “Guys? Help me out?”

“Nope.”

“Not happening.”

“No comment.”

“You all,” Leo said, pointing a finger at Casey and his brothers, “have betrayed me.”

“Damn, that’s crazy,” you said, walking past him, “Last one to the living room is a rotten egg!”

You took off into a run, listening to Leo screech behind you.

“But! Clean up?”

“Oh, just turn on the bots, Donnie!” Mikey yelled, chasing after you.

“Sigh.”

Mikey pulled ahead of you, taking a minute to run backwards and throw up a peace sign at you. Donnie wasn’t far behind. He zoomed overhead of you with his jetpack, so you grabbed at his foot and lifted up your legs.

“I’m fairly sure that’s cheating,” Donnie said, trying to shake you off.

“Like you aren’t?” you asked, holding on tighter.

“Fair.”

Donnie flew higher the moment the two of you passed through the doorway of the living room, pulling up just enough so you fell for a few seconds before landing on the couch beneath you.

“I did not care for that,” you said, feeling like a cat in a bathtub. Donnie softly landed next to you, giving you a smug look.

Leo burst into the room, his hands immediately going to his knees once he crossed the threshold. Casey wasn’t far behind Leo and was quick to hover over him while he caught his breath.

You looked up at Leo from your spot on the couch, tilting your head at him, “Do you not teleport?”

Leo blinked at you, pausing from his panting.

“Oh motherfu–”

Raph slapped a hand over Leo’s mouth while he passed by, “Nope! Go sit down.”

Leo groaned, waddling over to his seat and falling face first into the cushion.

Donnie turned on the projector with the remote he had stashed in the couch, clicking it a few times to pull up the broadcast of Times Square. You shivered when you saw all the people crowded into the streets, just thinking about how cold it must be outside. Donnie, like a psychic, pulled his blanket over your legs to share.

You smiled at him, tapping your foot against his in thanks.

Everyone stayed quiet as the broadcast played, weakly laughing when the reporters managed to land a half-hearted joke.

“They should let me do this show,” Leo said, throwing candy at the projector screen after a truly awful pun, “My jokes are way better than this.”

Everyone made various sounds of disagreement

“This is not how you’re supposed to treat a champion,” Leo grumbled, shoving more candy into his mouth and glaring around the room.

“Stop claiming Casey’s title, Nardo,” Mikey said, “You’re a loser cup winner.”

“And proud of it.”

“Shh, it’s almost time!” Raph scolded. The people at Times Square started counting down to midnight, their cheers getting louder as the new year grew closer.

“Five!” Mikey yelled, joining in with the broadcast.

“Four!”

Everyone followed Mikey’s lead, the familiar anxiousness around the turn of the year growing in the room.

“Three!”

You looked at Donnie, knowing exactly what you had to do.

“Two!”

You tugged his arm, getting him to turn towards you.

“One! Happy New Year everyone!”

You pulled Donnie down by the front of his shirt, giving him a giant raspberry right on his cheek. He screeched in protest, pushing you off of him and doing his best to knock you off of the couch. You fell backward, but not without dragging Donnie with you. The two of you started tussling on the ground.

“Uhh, should we stop them?” Casey asked.

“No, please,” Leo said, while cackling, “April is going to be so sad she missed this.”

“Ay! no biting, you dick!” you said, trying to shake Donnie off of your arm. Donnie narrowed his eyes at you and started shaking his head, still biting down on you. You tried to wedge your legs in between the two of you in order to push him off of you.

“Donnie sure picks the weird ones,” Raph said, watching you and Donnie struggle against each other with his arms crossed.

“Well I think they’re nice,” Mikey said as he leaned up against Raph, “Donnie hasn’t brought anyone else home before.”

Raph thought for a second and shrugged, “I guess that’s true. Still weird though.”

“Donnie’s weird.”

“Amen to that.”

Chapter Text

BootyShaker9000: Sweetums.

QuarkedUp: Dee-dee.

BootyShaker9000: Will you /please/ text Leo and tell him that 3D-printing tiny busts of Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson is a complete waste of my resources.

QuarkedUp: sure thing

—

QuarkedUp: you do know that you’re one of my faves, right?

BabyBlue: duhhh

QuarkedUp: Rock busts?? That’s fucking hilarious 

QuarkedUp: make me one too <3

BabyBlue: you got it boss

—

BootyShaker9000: I despise you.

QuarkedUp: I don’t know why you’re acting shocked

QuarkedUp: but I would like mine in green pretty please

BootyShaker9000: /Fine/.

QuarkedUp: <3

—

QuarkedUp: if you don't hop on this minecraft server with me right now i'm going to scream

QuarkedUp: (sent you the link to join on discord by the by)

BootyShaker9000: ???

QuarkedUp: MY BUILDS

QuarkedUp: LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL BUILDS

BootyShaker9000: I am currently working.

QuarkedUp: :,(

QuarkedUp: my heart? broken

QuarkedUp: my talent? squandered

QuarkedUp: hotel? a tent in the woods who can afford that shit in this economy

BootyShaker9000: ...

BootyShaker9000: Give me ten minutes.

QuarkedUp: :D

—

BootyShaker9000: I see you sending tiktoks.

BootyShaker9000: It’s 3 am, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: can’t sleep

BootyShaker9000: Mmm

BootyShaker9000; Would you like to watch a movie on Discord together?

QuarkedUp: p l e a s e

—

QuarkedUp: that was an underhanded and dirty tactic

BootyShaker9000: I see you have awoken.

QuarkedUp: purely against my consent

QuarkedUp: SLEEPING WAS ALSO AGAINST MY CONSENT YOU DICKHEAD

QuarkedUp: i was having a perfectly fine time with gremlin hours

BootyShaker9000: Don’t fall asleep during movies then. 

QuarkedUp: i hate you

BootyShaker9000: You don’t.

—

QuarkedUp: invite me over for dinner

BootyShaker9000: …Excuse me?

QuarkedUp: I said what I said, Donathan. 

BootyShaker9000: …..

BootyShaker9000: Would you like to come over for dinner?

QuarkedUp: wow gosh I thought you would never ask

QuarkedUp: im currently in your living room, I’m feeling Italian tonight?

BootyShaker9000: You are insufferable.

BootyShaker9000: I’ll be there in approximately five minutes.

QuarkedUp: Slay

QuarkedUp: I’ll start heating up the water.

—

QuarkedUp: do you ever think about how puss in boots canonically fucks

BootyShaker9000: …. Excuse me?

QuarkedUp: puss in boots from the shrek franchise

QuarkedUp: in his spin off movies

QuarkedUp: he fucks

BootyShaker9000: …

BootyShaker9000: No, that is not something I think about.

QuarkedUp: oh, just me then

BootyShaker9000: I

BootyShaker9000: You are the /strangest/ person I’ve ever met.

QuarkedUp: thank you, it’s the adderall

—

BootyShaker9000: Are you currently awake?

QuarkedUp: do you even know me

QuarkedUp: yes, hello

BootyShaker9000: Excellent, I will be at your dorm shortly.

QuarkedUp: wha

BootyShaker9000: Apologies, let me rephrase.

BootyShaker9000: Would you like to accompany me on an adventure tonight?

QuarkedUp: …

QuarkedUp: ………

QuarkedUp: sure, why not

BootyShaker9000: Cool cool cool.

BootyShaker9000: I'll text you when I pull up to the parking lot

QuarkedUp: yuh

—

“Remind me again what we’re doing here?” you asked Donnie. 

The two of you were walking outside of a large storage yard that was dimly lit with small lights surrounding the edge of the square units. When Donnie had texted you asking if you wanted to go on a little adventure, you had midnight Taco Bell in mind. Maybe even a late night stroll through Central Park if you were feeling daring. Hell, even sneaking into a nightclub to go dancing seemed more likely!

But no. You were wearing a ski mask and sneaking around the edge of East Manhattan with an insane mutant.

(Donnie really was your best friend.)

(You could never tell him, it would go straight to his head.)

“Shopping,” Donnie deadpanned. He stuck the end of his bō against the lock, a circle detaching from the end of it with whirring sounds coming from it.

“I’m pretty sure shopping happens during the day time… and doesn’t involve lockpicking,” you said, raising an eyebrow at him.

“The Purple Dragons won’t be needing anything from here,” Donnie said, “These losers have been locked up for years. I’m surprised they still have the money to keep this stuff in storage.”

“Everyday your alignment becomes more and more chaotic evil,” you sighed, leaning against the wall.

Donnie twisted his bō, successfully unlocking the door. He held it open for you to walk in first. The storage unit was well organized with multiple rows of shelves. You saw the remains for two-toed footprints almost obscured again by the dust, undoubtedly from Donnie’s previous trips.

“So may the outward shows be least themselves: The world is still deceived with ornament. In law, what plea so tainted and corrupt, But, being seasoned with a gracious voice, Obscures the show of evil?” Donnie recited as he made a bee-line to the third row of shelves.

You blinked at him as he disappeared from your line of sight.“...Okay, gamer, we’re going to be watching normal kid movies when we get back.”

“I am normal, thank you very much,” Donnie said, popping his head back out to stick his tongue at you, “I sent a list of parts we need to your gauntlet, start with the thermoplastic wiring on the bottom shelf over there.”

You spotted the roll of wire, crouching down to unzip your backpack and stick it in.

“I can’t believe you’re making me spend the last few days of my winter break robbing a…” you recognised the logo on the wire wrap from one of the local schools, ”a highschool tech club? Really Donnie?”

“Semantics, they’re still criminals.”

You shook your head at him, pulling up the list on your mini gauntlet to figure out what to grab next. Diodes, third row and second shelf.

(You fucking loved your gauntlet. Within a few days of using it, you understood Donnie’s insistence of perpetually keeping it on his person.)

“I don’t know if you can be that evil if you’re just a teenager,” you said. You walked past him to get to the diodes, nudging him with your foot as you did so, “How do I know these kids weren’t just, I don’t know, doing some light hacking into the FBI database for their true crime tumblr?”

“They’re serving upwards of 30 years for grand larceny, manslaughter, and false imprisonment,” Donnie deadpanned.

You froze from where you were reaching up to grab the small boxes at the very back of the shelf, “Huh.”

“Also attempted murder," Donnie added.

“I stand corrected,” you said. You had to jump up to snatch the boxes. The shelving started to lean back towards you when you grabbed onto the supports to bolster yourself. You let go immediately to keep the shelf from falling on top of you, but couldn’t find your footing before you fell backwards into Donnie walking behind you.

He must’ve been caught off guard as the two of you kept falling backwards into the other shelf, completely knocking down everything behind you like a row of dominoes. 

Shit.

You took a moment to take in the wreckage and broken glass before looking down at Donnie as you lay on top of him, “Uh… whoops?”

Donnie groaned as he hit the back of his head against a box, “This is my fault for assigning you parts on the top shelf.”

You let out an affronted gasp, pushing yourself off of him.

“Just because I’m not a six foot and change mutant–”

Because nothing could be easy in your life, an alarm started blaring in the room and cut off your rant before it could even begin. Large metal panels started to close around the room like the two of you were in some b-list action movie. 

Donnie sprung into action, slotting his bō against the door before the paneling could fully trap the two of you in. You ran after him, attempting to open the door.

“It’s locked!” you said, jiggling the handle harder.

“Battle shell, top compartment,” Donnie grunted out, his arms flexing as he engaged supports on the bottom of his staff, “Do you know how to pick locks?”

“Only in a theoretical sense!” you said, rummaging through the different tools and finally finding a tension wrench and a pick, “I’ve watched videos at like 2 am but I've never tried it in real life.”

“Then this will be a practicum,” Donnie said, “Insert the tension wrench and turn it to either side to see which way the lock opens.”

You followed his instructions, finding that the lock opened to the left.

“Good, good start,” he said, his voice sounding more strained. 

You looked up and saw that the panel was bending around his bō, creating a divot where it was pressed against it. You bit the inside of your cheek and began to panic a little more.

“Eyes on the lock, alright?” Donnie said, giving you a weak smile. You nodded, turning back to the handle, “Run your pick along the pins and try to find which one has the most resistance when you press against them.”

You inserted the pick and felt around with the end of it. You identified around six pins in the lock and started to press into them with a gentle pressure.

“I think it's the third pin from the front,” you said, turning to look at him. You didn’t miss the vein popping out on the side of his neck.

“It most likely sets front to back then,” Donnie said, furrowing his brow, “Go slow and try to push every pin behind it to the same height as the third pin.”

You let out a slow breath, doing your best to keep your hands steady. The alarms were incessant and driving away any complex thought you attempted to have.

“Everything feels… level?” you said, running your pick over the pins one last time to double check.

“Try turning the handle then,” Donnie said. The metal panel dropped about two inches above where you were kneeling, but Donnie was quick to catch it with his ninpo jutting out of his staff. 

You’ve only seen the purple tech once before during a particularly rough wrestling match between Leo and Donnie at the lair. Something about its presence didn’t make you feel... particularly assured.

“I got it, I got it!” Donnie grunted out, “You might want to hurry with that door, though.”

You about cried when the handle didn’t turn all the way. The tension wrench was practically bending in your hand with how much you were trying to force it.

 “Fuck," you said, pulling your tools out of the lock and putting a hand to your chest to calm yourself down.

You were not prepared to be stuck in that room without chance of escape. Your scholarships would be fucked if you were arrested. How would you finish your degree? Would your college put you on probation? Would-

“Breathe sweetums, you can start again,” Donnie said, pulling you out of your spiral with a gentle nudge of his foot to your thigh, “Try pushing the pins in from the back this time.”

You took a shaky breath in and shook off your hands. You pulled your ski mask off of your face so you could think without the fabric pressing against your skin, inserting your tools again after jiggling the handle to reset the lock. Donnie made a slight noise of concern, but left you to your own devices.

You started pushing the pins up again, going even slower this time. You held your breath as you tried the handle after finishing, your entire body slumping as the door finally opened.

“Oh my god,” you said, pushing the door open all the way. You crawled through as fast as you could. Donnie was quick to follow, shrinking down his tech bō and pulling it back as the metal wall snapped down behind him. There were indents through the metal from where Donnie’s ninpo was pressing against it.

“I think I died about five times in there,” you said, wheezing as you finally let yourself feel your panic, “My heart is palpitating.”

“Don’t die after escaping certain death, that’s a waste of an adventure,” Donnie said, patting your shoulder. He looked a little unsteady on his feet as well.

You tilted your head as you heard another noise over the alarms still emanating from the storage room.

“Are those sirens? Or did those alarms finally drive me insane?”

“Yes to both,” Donnie said. He engaged his jetpack and scooped you up in his arms, wobbling a little, “But we’re going to make a quick exit before the police get here.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and mentally prepared yourself for flight. You had gotten a little used to it over the past few months, but you were perpetually nervous while you were in the air.

“No seated jetpack today?” you asked. Donnie adjusted his hold on you and began to take off once you were secure.

“I wasn’t… expecting an abrupt exit today,“ Donnie casting his gaze to the side. The two of you shot above the storage facility and began to make your way back to where Donnie had parked the Turtle Tank. The rows of the outdoor units quickly became smaller and smaller behind you.

“I am so sorry for fucking that up,” you said, becoming anxious for an entirely different reason.

“You handled yourself exceptionally well, please don’t worry,” Donnie said, shrugging the best he could while holding you, “There have certainly been worse mishaps.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t even get close to grabbing everything on the list.”

“We only really needed the processor, which I retrieved first,” Donnie clarified, “Everything else on the list was just a cost saving measure.”

You blinked at him, grip tightening as he slowed down his jetpack and began to make his descent to the Turtle Tank, “You’re literally stacked with cash.”

“Act broke to stay rich, sweetums,” Donnie said. He set you down gently the moment that he touched solid ground again. You didn’t miss the way his eyes scanned over you, searching for any possible injury, “Why buy it when I can steal it from the well-off? I’m redistributing the wealth.”

You sighed, pushing your way past him to open the door to the Turtle Tank.

“I’m choosing the music as payment for emotional damages,” you said. You grabbed the hoodie you had left behind in your seat and pulled it on to chase away the chill you caught while flying.

“Please no 80’s glam rock, it’s 4 am,” Donnie said, climbing in after you, “Between you and Leo, I think I have Queen’s entire discography memorized.”

“I will only be playing 80’s glam rock, thank you very much,” you huffed, “I’ll switch it to ABBA if you drive us to go get some fast food.”

Donnie took you in for a moment and sighed, shaking his head. He sat down in the driver’s seat next to you and started up the tank.

“Whatever you want, sweetums.”

Chapter Text

QuarkedUp: donnie

QuarkedUp: doNNIE

BootyShaker9000: It is seven in the morning.

QuarkedUp: listen listen

QuarkedUp: you’re either a smart fella… or a fart smella

BootyShaker9000: …

QuarkedUp: :D 

BootyShaker9000: I am going back to bed.

QuarkedUp: D:

QuarkedUp: I am unappreciated in my time

—

QuarkedUp: am i experiencing caffeine shakes or the sensation of the heavenly father passing through my body?

QuarkedUp: the world may never know

BootyShaker9000: You’re really on a roll today, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: HOW DID YOU KNOW I WAS WEARING MY HEELYS

BootyShaker9000: ??

QuarkedUp sent a video

BootyShaker9000: … huh.

QuarkedUp: I am attracting all of the hoes with the sheer force of my /swagger/

BootyShaker9000: I’m sure you are.

—

QuarkedUp: there’s a girl in my chem lab with the fucking best purple hair I’ve ever seen

QuarkedUp: im going to make her my lab partner

BootyShaker9000: I don’t know if I should be jealous or not. /j

QuarkedUp: oh you know you’re the only one for me don xoxo

QuarkedUp: im just trying to not get saddled with another horse girl this year

QuarkedUp: the equine science majors are… interesting

BootyShaker9000: Perhaps she lives in/near your dorm and the two of you could walk home together.

QuarkedUp: subtle, babycakes

QuarkedUp: i pinky promise that no bad guys are going to get me

BootyShaker9000: Mmm.

BootyShaker9000: I will be tracking your location tonight.

QuarkedUp: resigned sigh, vomitello

QuarkedUp: also you for sure track my location more than that

QuarkedUp: i see you

BootyShaker9000: I am who I am.

—

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

QuarkedUp: STOP YOURE MAKING ME LAUGH IN MY LAB

BootyShaker9000: Don’t be on your phone then.

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

QuarkedUp: if i get kicked out i blame you

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000 sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: Skill issue.

BootyShaker9000: I bring you this bountiful harvest and this is how I’m treated?

BootyShaker9000: For shame.

QuarkedUp: ha, haha

QuarkedUp: I’m gonna infect your servers with malware later

BootyShaker9000: Looking forward to it.

—

QuarkedUp: spilled acid on myself

QuarkedUp: BUT

QuarkedUp: HANDLED IT LIKE A B O S S

BootyShaker9000: Raph charges royalties for use of his catchphrase.

QuarkedUp: tell him he can catch these hands

BootyShaker9000: Will do.

QuarkedUp: Wait dO NOT

QuarkedUp: THAT WAS A JOKE

BootyShaker9000: Oops.

—

Raphael: wat did you say about me

QuarkedUp: new phone who dis?

—

QuarkedUp: donnieeeeeeeeeeee

BootyShaker9000: ?

QuarkedUp: pls tell me you have some magical machine in that lab of yours that makes sore muscles go away

BootyShaker9000: Why?

BootyShaker9000: I have a steam shower and painkillers but that’s about it.

QuarkedUp: what if I passed away right now

BootyShaker9000: Dramatic much?

QuarkedUp: :,(

QuarkedUp: when i die, i blame you and may

QuarkedUp: that woman put me through HELL

BootyShaker9000: Exercise?

QuarkedUp: same thing

—

BootyShaker9000: Do you have some free time later today?

BootyShaker9000: I’ve sufficiently remodeled the Neural-Sweeper to include the more powerful processor.

BootyShaker9000: We should be able to map the areas of the hindbrain that our last scans were missing.

QuarkedUp: Yes but only if you send Leo to get me

QuarkedUp: leg hurty

BootyShaker9000: You are dramatic.

QuarkedUp: I HAVE SUFFICIENTLY ADDRESSED THE DRAMA

QuarkedUp: oh im also not at my dorm but i /am/ in a closed off study room

BootyShaker9000: That should be fine, I’ll send Leo your location

QuarkedUp: Bless

—

You and Leo walked through the lab doors together, wearing matching sunglasses and holding brightly colored drinks.

“Ah, I was wondering what was taking so long,” Donnie said, looking up from where he sat at his giant monitor,  “Did you get me anything?”

“Red Bull blender with green apple syrup for your weird ass,” you said, leaving Leo at the door to give Donnie his drink. Donnie snatched the drink out of your hand like a fucking gremlin and stuck his tongue out at you.

“Finally, someone sees what I see,” Leo snorted, “I’ll leave you nerds to it.”

You raised your drink to say goodbye as Leo went back out the door, taking your backpack off and setting it on the ground. You hopped up on Donnie’s desk to sit down while you finished off your drink.

“What’s weird is your insistence on joining forces with my brother to terrorize me,” Donnie said. He took a sip of his drink and hummed appreciatively.

“Jealous, Don?” you asked, pulling your sunglasses down to your nose and raising an eyebrow at him. (The sunglasses were, admittedly, a little gaudy, but anything for the bit.)

Donnie choked on his drink. You laughed, offering nothing to help but a tap of your foot to his knee while Donnie hit his chest with a fist.

“I assure you I am not,” he said, his voice sounding a little scratchy. You didn’t miss the slight tinge of pink crawling up his neck.

“I’m just saying, you have a streak,” you said, shrugging and taking a loud sip of your drink, “First my lab partner Kennedy, now your own brother? You’re turning our fake relationship into a soap opera.”

“You,” Donnie said, pushing at your knee so you would hop off of his desk, “are a whole production by yourself. Go grab the cart, I’ll start booting up the NS program.”

“Pushy,” you said. You begrudgingly got to your feet and made way for the storage area.

“I’m efficient, thank you.”

—

“Remind me why we needed a fancy processor for this whole thing to work?” you asked, moving your chair side to side while you waited for Donnie to hook everything up. You were almost accustomed to the feeling of the sensors all around your head and neck and the weight of the helmet against your scalp.

That, however, didn’t mean you weren’t incredibly ready to subject Donnie to the same treatment. It had been months, you wanted to be the guy in the chair, dammit.

“So the Neural-Sweeper works by tracking the exchange of calcium ions in the brain between neurons, yes?” Donnie asked, gesturing with the cord in his hand.

“Because of chemical signals and action potential and all that.”

“Correct,” Donnie said. He set his shoulders back in the way he always did when he got into lecture mode. He would’ve made a kickass professor in another life with his gusto for learning, Donnie's latent intelligence notwithstanding.

(It was… cute. No other way to describe it.)

(…Shut up.)

“The opening of the calcium channels within neurons occurs so quickly that the old processor simply didn’t have the facilities to catch all of the exchanges and give us a complete picture of the brain,” Donnie said. He plugged in the last cord and sat back down in his chair, “Our brain scanner couldn’t think fast enough, essentially.”

“There’s a joke to be made somewhere in there,” you said, “I’m glad my newfound life of crime was worth it in the long run.”

Donnie stilled, his brows furrowing just slightly. You backtracked immediately.

“So, when do we get to strap you into the Neural-Scanner?” you asked, “Or does that big head of yours need an even bigger processor to sort through it?”

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” Donnie said, haughtily sticking his chin out with a shake of his head. He scooted his chair closer to the desk and began typing at his keyboard, “We should be able to begin the process next time. I would like to see if the sensors need reconfiguring with the updates I made or if the adjustments I made to the code are sufficient.”

“So I’m the lab rat today,” you summarized.

“Aren’t you always?”

You snorted, “You say such nice things, Dee-Dee.”

You half-heartedly filled out a few syllabus quizzes while you waited for the scan to finish up. The first week of the semester was such a waste of time. Not that you yearned for the workload that usually occurred when the semester picked up, but you were a little tired of filling out the same academic honesty pledges for every class.

Academic integrity is for losers, anyways.

“Do you worry about the side effects from potentially disrupting the amount of neurotransmitters in our brains from using PKK too much?” you asked, breaking the silence.

“Seizures are for cowards,” Donnie deadpanned. His eyes were glued to the screen as he monitored the progress of the scan.

“Donnie.”

“Joking! Only joking,” he said, forcing tone in his voice to reassure you, “I have a few ideas to mitigate that.”

“If any of them involve experimental drugs that I’m gonna have to work out the synthesis of, I will tell Raph you’re making meth,” you threatened.

“I have… one idea,” Donnie amended, “Non-sequitur! We have our best scan yet!”

Donnie spun around his monitor to show you the scan. He started flipping through the different sections of your brain on the program. You could trace your finger over each delicate network of your neurons on the screen. That was just... your entire life presented on a computer program.

Science was really fucking cool sometimes.

“That was, like, half the time it usually takes,” you said

“And approximately 1.27 times more accurate!” Donnie exclaimed with a giant grin on his face, “Between this and the last scans we’ve compiled, I think we have enough data to start working on projecting images with the headpiece.”

“Don’t you have it constructed already?” 

“Yes, why?” Donnie asked, tilting his head at you.

“Numbers on us trying it right now?” you asked, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

Donnie’s grin grew impossibly bigger. He jetted off to another area of the lab, leaving his chair spinning behind him.

“This is why I keep you around,” He called out from behind a row of shelving, “Start removing your sensors!”

“Wow, don’t get too excited,” you called back. You started take off your sensors anyways, still cringing like usual when they pulled at your hair. 

“Me? Not get excited over scientific progress? Do you even know me?” Donnie asked as he walked back towards you. He had a hefty circlet in his hands with a substantial amount of wiring. Donnie set it to the side and took over removing the sensors, batting your hand away as you tried to help.

“Pushy again, I think that’s one of your five emotions,” you said, giving him the stink-eye. Donnie returned it full force.

You so badly wanted to point out the crinkle at the corner of his eyes that always betrayed his amusement, but remained quiet.

“You’re awfully mouthy for a test subject,” Donnie deadpanned. That got a laugh out of you, one that had Donnie moving your head to the side so he could remove the last sensor.

Donnie pushed your hair back and secured the headpiece onto your forehead, moving your head around with a hand to your chin to make sure it had the proper connections.

“Is that comfortable? I can loosen it slightly if not,” he asked.

You blinked at him for a moment, a little distracted by the way he was looking at you so intently. His hand was still on your chin to hold your head steady.

“I— uh, yeah. It’s fine,” you stuttered, pulling your face away from his hand. Your body felt a little warm, warmer than it usually was in the lair. Leo must’ve been messing with the thermostat again.

“Great!” Donnie said. He practically bounced over to his desktop, not even bothering to sit down again before typing rapidly. The monitor was still pointed towards you so you could see the program as it loaded up images from your brain.

“Think of a shape.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, willing your mind blank besides an image of a square in your head. Within a few minutes, nothing beyond a vaguely gray screen showed in the monitor.

“Alright…" Donnie started, sounding a little disheartened, "Think of a color.”

You looked down at your Donnie’s hoodie, filling your mind’s eye with that purple hue.

“Are you picturing purple?” Donnie asked after a few seconds. You nodded, looking up at the screen to see that it was a perfect match to the hoodie. You started to tap your feet on the ground in excitement. Donnie pulled the monitor away from you and started typing again, most likely zero-ing on that pathway, “Choose another color!”

You chose the dark green of your desk and held it intently in your head.

“What color are you thinking of?” Donnie asked.

“Dark green.”

Donnie turned the monitor back towards you, grinning widely, “We have successfully hacked into your brain! It needs fine-tuning, but—“

“Holy shit!” you said, interrupting him. You pictured the brightest yellow and watched with unimaginable excitement as the dark green of the screen melted away.

“Holy fucking shit, we’re geniuses!” You said, wriggling in your seat, “Donnie, get this thing off of me, I need to go run a lap about this.”

“On it,” Donnie said. He was just as happy about this as you were, it showed with the taps of his of his feet as he sat the headset back onto the desk and his tail going at Mach speeds above the low slung waistband of his pants.

The moment you were completely detached from the hardware you shot out of your seat, cranked the volume of your music, and immediately started bouncing up and down.

“You’re excited,” Donnie remarked in a way similar to you just a moment before. You shook your head at him and grabbed his hands to persuade him to move with you.

“I’m fucking elated, Dee-Dee. This puts us at, what, two months ahead of schedule? We might be in beta before the summer,” you said

“The timelines were only hypothetical—“

“Your mother is hypothetical,” you interrupted, “No more thinking today. We rock.”

Donnie looked at you with a strange glint in his eye and laughed, spinning you around, “Whatever you say, sweetums.”

—

QuarkedUp: why does god hate me

BootyShaker9000: Because you believe that static typing is better than dynamic typing.

QuarkedUp: AND I STAND BY THAT VOMITELLO

QuarkedUp: DO NOT @ ME WHEN YOUR PROGRAMS KEEP CRASHING

QuarkedUp: ugh

QuarkedUp: I knew that this 9 am was gonna kick my ass

BootyShaker9000: What class is this?

QuarkedUp: Differential Equations

BootyShaker9000: Oh! Fun!

QuarkedUp: no NOT fun you fucking sociopath

QuarkedUp: I can’t do numbers this early in the morning

BootyShaker9000: This appears to be a skill issue.

QuarkedUp: i swear to god i will hotwire the turtle tank launch it off the brooklyn bridge 

BootyShaker9000: I’d like to see you try.

—

QuarkedUp: berry smoothie my beloved

QuarkedUp: i am no longer in a mood

QuarkedUp: life is beautiful again

BootyShaker9000: Subject suffers from what is colloquially known as “hangery”, noted.

QuarkedUp: You cannot even BEGIN to touch my peace with your bullshit right now

BootyShaker9000: Subject is resistant to being observed.

QuarkedUp: i observed your mother last night

BootyShaker9000: Well that’s just crass.

__

BootyShaker9000: Opinions on coming over Friday night?

QuarkedUp: for science or for fun

BootyShaker9000: Science /is/ fun. :p

BootyShaker9000: However, this is a social calling. We're having a movie night at the lair.

QuarkedUp: oooo what movie

BootyShaker9000: We've been arguing about that for the past two hours.

BootyShaker9000: It's a toss-up between Megamind, The Princess Bride, and Die Hard.

QuarkedUp: i vote megamind

BootyShaker9000: You don't get a vote.

QuarkedUp: D:

BootyShaker9000: Read it and weep, sweetums.

QuarkedUp: why do you mistreat me so

BootyShaker9000: <3

--

QuarkedUp sent a photo

QuarkedUp sent a photo

BootyShaker9000: What happened to no phones in lab?

QuarkedUp: shhhhh

QuarkedUp: i am stealth

QuarkedUp: like a ninja

BootyShaker9000: I assure you that you are not.

__

BootyShaker9000: It is 9:46 pm.

BootyShaker9000: You are not in your dorm yet.

QuarkedUp: buddy

QuarkedUp: do we need to have a talk

BootyShaker9000: For clarification, I am not currently tracking you.

BootyShaker9000: I’m stealing hot cocoa from your room and hanging out with your roommate.

QuarkedUp: I

QuarkedUp: okay

QuarkedUp: pop off I guess

QuarkedUp: my lab went late, I’m heading back with Kennedy now

QuarkedUp: not dogging on the newbies but she may or may not have caused us to have to redo our entire experiment

BootyShaker9000: You? Not being outright facetious to someone?

BootyShaker9000: Who are you and what have you done with the short nerd?

BootyShaker9000: Follow up question, will you keep them forever?

QuarkedUp: I hate you

BootyShaker9000: You do not.

BootyShaker9000: Would you like me to make you something to drink?

QuarkedUp: oh yes pl

Kennedy bumped into your side, accidentally forcing you to hit send early.

“Sorry about that,” she said, giving you a sheepish smile, “That biker was just about to take me out.”

“Really? I didn’t even see,” you said. You rubbed at your arm where she slammed into you. 

“You seem pretty wrapped up in whoever you’re texting,” Kennedy said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. You feel yourself flush and stick your phone in your back pocket out of embarrassment. 

“Oh that’s just Donnie, my resident stalker,” you said, rolling your eyes and trying to play it off, “He’s a little freaked out about this late lab.”

“Sounds like a good boyfriend,” Kennedy said.

You waved your hand at her, “It’s not like that, we’re just friends.”

“How’d you meet him?” Kennedy asked. Her stride slowed down as she turned to fully look at you, “Does he go here?”

“We were, uh… lab partners last semester,” you said, practically stopping in your tracks to come up with the half-truth. You held out your wrist to show off your mini gauntlet. You had noticed Kennedy trying to peek at it during the last two lab periods, you hoped that finally giving her a look would get her to stop asking questions, “He built this for me as a part of our biomed engineering class, actually.”

Kennedy took your wrist in her hand and twisted it around to look at the bottom of it. Her face formed into an almost unnerving grin as she looked back up at you.

“Genius Built tech, huh?”

“How did you…” you trailed off, snatching your hand back the moment your brain processed what she said. Was Kennedy one of the turtle’s villains? How did she know Donnie? Or Genius Built, for that matter?

“I think I have to…uh, get going! My friend is at my dorm and all that,” you said, turning to high tail it away from her. 

Kennedy knocked you off your feet before you could take off with a quick kick to your legs. Before you could even register yourself falling, you were hit with a fine white powder to your face. You coughed hard, feeling woozy and unable to get back up. You did your best to press the panic button on the gauntlet without Kennedy noticing.

Donnie was so close. Not even a five minute walk away from you. There was no way he wouldn't be right there to save you.

“You really are a bit too trusting, sweetums,” Kennedy said. She smiled down at you as your arms gave out beneath you, the edges of your vision going black, “Sweet dreams!”

Chapter Text

“Wake up.”

Your head was throbbing. Like, ten drinks in and no water hangover throbbing.

“Wake. Up.”

You groaned, attempting to roll over to escape from the noise but finding your ability to move incredibly restricted. Your wrists ached from where they were held in front of you. 

“Do you think we gave them too high a dosage?”

“Quiet, Jase. Jeremy, smack them.”

You felt a sharp sting to your cheek, the force of Jeremy’s hand sending your face to the side. Kennedy smirked at you as you blearily blinked sleep away, her form becoming less blurry with every passing second.

“Good morning, sweetums!” Kennedy drawled, “Are you awake or do you need Jeremy to hit you again?”

You took in your situation. Your wrists were tightly bound against the arms of your chair in what looked like to be built-in metal handcuffs. Your surroundings were dimly lit by dozens of different screens constantly cycling through long lines of code. Kennedy was shadowed by two different dudes in matching purple jackets. The pale, skinny one, who you assumed was Jase, was tapping at your stolen gauntlet behind her.

The motherfucker.

“Usually, I ask the folks who slap me to pay my tuition first,” you said, feeling the full extent of raspiness in your throat.

Kennedy snorted at you. She pulled out a remote and pressed a large red button in the middle of it. You felt the sharp sting of electricity coursing through your body that left your skin feeling fried and a metallic taste in your mouth.

Well, that explains the handcuffs.

“See, I told you guys they’re funny,” Kennedy said, casting a glance at Jase and Jeremy before approaching you, “I’m a little surprised Donnie ended up with someone with an actual personality.”

“I’m a little surprised he hasn’t come down here to kick your ass already,” you spat at her. Kennedy just raised an eyebrow and pressed the button again, sending your head slamming back against the wall as you gritted your teeth against the shocks. You were just praying that your prosthetics would be okay. If their circuitry got fried, you didn’t know what you would do.

That is, if the Purple Dragons didn’t kill you first.

…you really gotta work on your priorities.

“Should we be hurting them that much, Kendra?” Jase asked as he looked up from the gauntlet for the first time since you woke up, “Part of the deal was giving them back alive.”

“Kendra?” you asked before she could answer, “I thought you were Kennedy.”

“Oo! That was her undercover name,” Jeremy answered, “You know, for lulling you into a false sense of security so we could kidnap you and–”

“Idiots!” Kennedy Kendra shouted before smacking Jeremy. She reared up to hit Jase as well, but seemed satisfied when he flinched, “How many times have we talked about not revealing plans to our captive?”

“Don’t stop on my account,” you said. Kendra whipped her head around to glare at you, her thumb twitching against the remote.

God, when will you learn to shut your mouth?

“Donnie is at the front of the building!” Jase said, still holding himself in a defensive position away from Kendra. She pulled back and allowed Jase to pull up the camera feed on one of the monitors. You had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from crying when you saw him on the screen.

“Do you see the money?” Kendra asked.

“Isn’t it supposed to be in crypto?”

“You can scan him for a USB, you nimwit,” Kendra said, gripping the back of Jase's seat and crowding into his space from above, “Open the front garage and turn the lights on in the hallways. You know, if you’re not completely useless.”

“I’m a little concerned as to why you think Donnie is bringing cash and not his entire artillery,” you said, tilting your head at Kendra with faux confidence.

Not for a single minute can you stop, dear lord.

“If he didn’t agree to the deal, you would be dead already,” Kendra said coolly. She let go of Jase’s chair and turned back around to face you.

You whistled a low tone, “Damn Kennedy–”

“Kendra.”

“Kendra,” you corrected if only to not get shocked again, “there’s certainly no love lost between chemistry buddies.”

“Your boyfriend has been stealing from us for years and is loaded. It’s only business, sweetums,” Kendra said.

Again with the ‘sweetums.’ It was only okay when Donnie called you that. In Kendra's mouth, that name felt like venom.

“A fucking turtle is your target for a shake down, though?” you asked, “Not exactly my first thought when it comes to the big bucks.”

Kendra raised the remote and threatened to press the button just to make you flinch, laughing as you did so.

“The two of you destroyed an entire storage unit of delicate and irreplaceable electronic parts. And that's not even beginning to mention how you clued the city in on our location,” Jeremy said, gesturing with his hands before slotting one under his chin, “Is it wrong to make the offenders foot the bill?”

“That’s another really important question, thank you Jeremy,” you said. Jeremy seemed pleased with himself, but Kendra just growled at him, “Aren’t you guys supposed to be in jail?”

“Going to jail is for poor people,” Kendra shrugged. Jeremy and Jase nodded in agreement.

“Ah, how could I forget?” you muttered.

A loud, resounding knock was heard from the metal door that you had failed to notice earlier. To be frank, your vision was still swimming as you watched the door pull up into the roof. 

There Donnie stood in the doorway, his silhouette framed by the stark LED lights from the hallway. He had no staff in hand or battle shell, just his hoodie that was left unzipped and hanging open over his chest. 

You had never been so happy to see him. 

You about cried as he took you in, Donnie’s gaze growing crestfallen as it fell on your swollen cheek, your wrists bound to the chair and your prosthetics twitching pathetically. You gave him a weak smile and tried to steady your breathing.

You think you would rather die than cry in front of the Purple Dragons.

“Nice to see you again, Donatello,” Kendra said, making a point to twirl the remote in one hand while she stood with the other on her hip. Donnie, if you could tell anything by the set of his jaw, didn’t miss the meaning of the gesture.

“Spare the pleasantries, Kendra. Just take your money,” Donnie said, presenting a USB from his coat pocket and tossing it over to Jase. He scrambled over it, having to pick it up off of the ground as it fell out of his hands.

“Make sure he’s not trying to pull a fast one on us. Start the transfer,” Kendra ordered as she shoved Jase back into his chair.

Jase nodded, plugging in the USB and pulling up an unfamiliar program on the screen, “It’s clearing.”

“Kendra, really? You three are not worth my time,” Donnie said as he crossed his arms in front of him, “I would appreciate it if you would uncuff my partner and return their tech, please.”

“So the turtle admits that they’re partners,” Kendra said, striding over to you and running the back of her hand over your cheek, “That’s not the story you were telling me earlier.”

“Yeah, lab partner, that’s what I said,” Donnie said, sounding bored.

You really were gonna kill him. Bare hands, slight struggle, you were going to end it all.

“Mmm, but they’re just so cute,” Kendra said, squishing your face with both hands. You would’ve bitten her if you didn’t think she would shock you in retaliation. “And smart, too! Maybe I’d better keep them for myself.”

She leaned down and whispered into your ear, “What do you say, sweetums? I think you would look so good in purple.”

The room went completely dark just then, not even the light from the hallway stayed on. You attempted to headbutt Kendra, but she was off and running in the other direction before you had the chance.

“Jase, what did you do?” Kendra yelled.

“Nothing! I can’t control the building’s electricity from here.”

The sound of a desk toppling over with its many monitors had you flinching against the restraints of your seat.

“Hey, who did that?” Jeremy called out, his voice accompanied by the sounds of broken LCD screens breaking underneath his feet.

You felt your wrists get released from the chair. You attempted to get up but your body was still too weak to support yourself. Soft, gentle hands scooped you up and you found yourself being held against a broad chest.

Jeremy screamed not too far away from you, an action that had an unfamiliar hand reaching up to block your ears from the noise.

“Turn the lights back on!” Kendra ordered, her tone sounding frantic.

“I’m trying!”

You heard the electric chair go off and cringed, knowing that was meant to be for you.

“I said we would cut our losses, Donatello!” Kendra said smugly, “Boys, let’s get out of here!”

The lights flickered back on, showing one hell of a scene. Kendra was alone in the middle of the room, her spot the only one in the whole room not covered in tech wreckage.

“Boys?” Kendra asked, finally landing her gaze on Jase and Jeremy. They were tied up together, one arm each in the electric chair and both of them looking a little worse for wear. Raph and Mikey were standing behind them like guards. 

Donnie approached Kendra from out of the shadows of the room. He crowded her into a corner, his expression anything other than kind. Kendra made a sorry attempt to pull a knife on Donnie, but he just batted it away before slamming both hands on either side of her head.

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen me, Kendra,” Donnie growled, his eyes turning completely white, “My brothers and I? We’ve done things that your little mind can’t even begin to comprehend.”

Kendra squeaked and began to slide down in fear. Donnie grabbed her by the front of her jacket and pressed her against the wall, holding her up with just one hand.

“So here’s what’s going to happen. We’re gonna knock you and your little crew out, portal you into the closest prison, and if I ever –-” Donnie said, producing a bō out of thin air and pushing up Kendra’s chin with it, “ -–and I mean ever find you near my people, near my family again, I will make sure that you don’t live to see the next iPhone.”

Donnie dropped Kendra, stepping away just a second to swing around and knock her out with the bō. She was slumped against the wall in two seconds flat.

“Consider our mercy to be a housewarming gift for the happy cellmates,” Donnie spat.

“That’s a hell of a monologue, Dee,” Leo said, the timbre of his voice jarring you from just above your head.

Donnie looked back at Leo with scowling, all white eyes. His demeanor immediately softened when he finally made eye contact with you. Within a few blinks, his eyes were back to the familiar gold that you knew so well.  He took you from Leo’s arms, holding you just slightly away from him so he could keep his eyes on you.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly. 

You weakly lifted a hand and laughed.

“Great, why do you ask?” you said. Donnie just shook his head at you, bringing you close to his chest and pressing his forehead against yours.

“Oh, no reason,” Donnie murmured. He pulled his face away and looked to Leo, “I’m going to get them home, think you can handle it from here?”

“You got it, boss,” he said with a thumbs-up. He bounded over to Raph and Mikey and started giving them instructions.

Donnie let out a long breath and began to walk out of the room. You sighed and nuzzled your face a little into the fabric of his hoodie. The stress that had kept you fighting against the drugs in your system was slowly ebbing out of your body.

“Hey, Donnie?”

“Hmm?” Donnie asked, tip-toeing his way over some suspicious wiring that led to one of the panels in the hallway.

“If I said I was gonna pass out, would you freak?” 

Donnie stopped dead in his tracks, “Why doesn’t this seem hypo–?”

You were already fast asleep by the time Donnie opened his mouth. Donnie shook his head and tugged you just that much closer to his chest.

“How typical, sweetums.”

–

When you came to, you weren’t in your dorm. You were in a dark room and tucked in with a heated blanket on a squishy mattress. Your eyes slowly began to pick out different features of the room. The purple walls. The Atomic Lass poster. The titanium bust of a gloating face that you always threatened to draw a mustache on.

Damn turtle didn’t even sleep in his own bed.

You pulled yourself out from underneath the covers to find Donnie and… well, do something. He just saved your life.

In your state, you didn’t even register Donatello leaning on the foot of the bed. You managed to trip yourself on his legs and landed yourself face first on the floor. 

“Sweetums?” Donnie murmured as he roused from sleep. 

“Give me a second,” you wheezed from the ground. You just barely managed to pull yourself off the floor when you felt Donnie’s arms grabbing you. He hugged you tight to his chest, pressing his face into your shoulder. You brought your arms up to wrap around him, returning the tight squeeze, “Good morning to you too, Donnie.”

Donnie huffed out a laugh, giving you one final bone-crushing squeeze before releasing you from the hug. He had you situated halfway in his lap, halfway on the ground with your legs slung over him.

(You pointedly ignored how close the two of you were.)

Donnie brought a hand to your face and looked intently into your eyes, “How are you feeling? Are you experiencing signs of nausea, confusion, sensitivity to light and slash or noise, blurry vision, concentration–”

“I’m okay, Dee-dee,” you said. You pulled his hand away from his face and held it in your lap, “I have a small headache and I’m tired as shit, but otherwise okay.”

Donnie bit the inside of his cheek and looked sheepish under your gaze, “You will most likely be experiencing bouts of sleepiness until the drug clears your system. I tried to test the powder that Kendra used on you, but I wasn’t able to narrow down the compound.”

“Wow,” you said, a shit-eating grin forming on your face, “Maybe you need to stop dissing chemistry so you can do that next time.”

Donnie blinked at you for a few moments.

“Heartfelt moment, over,” Donnie said, picking you up against your will and preparing to throw you on the bed, “Time of death, 0506.”

You did your best to wriggle out of his grasp, but found your usual strength beyond you, “I yield! Mercy! Take pity on a kidnapping victim, would you?”

Donnie placed you gently back onto the bed. You flopped back against the mattress with your arm over your head with ten times the force that Donnie used against you.

“I am slain, I am deceased,” you said in a truly terrible English accent, “Lord have mercy, for my final foe was a Rosalina main.”

Donnie poked at your sides, forcing you to sit up off of the bed, “Primadonna.”

You snorted, batting at his arm as he sat down beside you. The two of you sat there for a moment in silence, just taking each other in.

Silences with Donnie… were never like this. They were never really that silent to begin with. You always had music playing and a textbook with pages to rustle. Donnie, on his part, was always typing at a keyboard or firing up the soldering iron for whatever project he was working on that week.

The two of you never had to sit with just each other and the enormity of, well, everything.

Donnie coughed into his hand, jarring you out of your thoughts, “I’d like to keep you at the lair for a day or two, just in case there’s some unanticipated side effects of whatever Kendra dosed you with.”

“Does that mean you’ll lay me gently against your purple satin sheets again?” you asked, nudging his shoulder with yours.

Donnie sputtered, almost flying to his feet as he tried to formulate real words.

You laughed, deciding to put him out of his misery by speaking again, “Teasing, only teasing, Dee-dee. I’ll have to email my prof’s, but I won’t say no to a bestie sleepover.”

“Alright,” Donnie said, crossing his arms in front of him.

“Perfect,” you said, mimicking his pose.

The two of you sat there for a moment, threatening to fall into that strange silence again. Something about it just made your heartbeat jump to your throat.

“Wanna help me to the kitchen so you can make me breakfast?” you asked, scrambling for anything else to say.

“Absolutely,” Donnie said. He helped you to your feet and kept an arm around your waist as he guided you out his bedroom door.

Unanticipated side effects, indeed.

Chapter Text

Donnie’s lab was… treacherous, on a good day. He was positively anal about his organization, yes, but that didn’t mean that things were particularly put away or simply placed in the approximate area for the sake of time. His cord organization, for example, was a mess.

You found that out first hand when you almost fell after tripping over a bundle of them. You attempted to grab onto Donnie as you tripped, but found your grip to be… lacking. The only reason you didn’t hit the floor face first was Donnie’s quick reflexes, his hands immediately going to catch you. 

You brought your left hand to your face to investigate, not even having the mind to thank Donnie for saving you.

“Uhh, Donnie?” you asked, feeling the panic rise up through your body, “Wanna tell me why I have half a hand right now?”

Donnie looked sheepish and gave you a weak smile, “Don’t freak out.”

“Of course, why would I freak out about missing irreplaceable prosthetics that are involved with almost every aspect of my daily life?” you asked, gesturing with your other hand. You examined the interface for a second, not loving how raised your skin was looking where it transitioned into the titanium.

“That tone is sarcastic, yes?” Donnie asked.

You rubbed at your forehead and let out a sigh.

“Yes, I’m sorry, just–” you took a deep breath in and out, “How bad is the damage?”

Donnie bit the inside of his lip, guiding you over to the electrical bay of the lab. He offered you one of the many lab chairs to sit in while he lifted up the hood over the countertop with a soft yellow light flickering on from above.

You really hated how relieved you were to sit down.

“Your prosthetics were fried, to put in layman’s terms,” Donnie explained, retrieving them from the counter and handing them to you. You turned them around in your hand and rubbed your thumb over the melted rubber that had leaked through the joints, “I almost electrocuted myself when I detached them from–”

Panic rose up inside of you again, “My interface–”

“It’s fine!” Donnie said, waving his hands in front of himself, “I already checked, no need to worry about going back under the knife. Your body managed to ground it a little better than your fingers.”

Worry left your body just as quick as it came. You rubbed at your hand and nodded at Donnie.

“Thank you, Dee-dee,” you said, “I appreciate that.”

“Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t even shown you what I’ve done,” Donnie said. He took the back of your chair and wheeled you over to the 3D printer. It was already running and printing a tray full of small pieces with a matte black filament.

“Forgive me for hacking, I pulled up the schematics from your drive while you were sleeping,” he explained. He projected the blueprints for your prosthetics with his tech gauntlet and gestured behind the screen, “The casings should be finished printing in a few hours, but I already had Shelldon laser cut the titanium skeleton so we can start on rebuilding them at any time."

“I’m a little surprised you didn’t start that already,” you teased. Well, attempted to tease. You were dangerously close to bawling your eyes out.

Just…

You were overwhelmed with how much Donnie cared. It hit you in the chest, the full brunt of what he was willing to do for you.

(You didn’t know what to do with that.)

“I had a feeling that you would want to do that yourself,” Donnie said. He clicked a button on his gauntlet to turn off the holo-screen, “Not that anything of yours would compare to Genius Built, but it’s cute when you try.”

You snorted, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand and resetting yourself, “Thanks Donnie, you’re a real altruist.”

“Ah yes, I am the greatest,” Donnie said with a hand on his chest and his chin held high, “Shall we continue on our journey for brekkie?”

“Please.”

Donnie helped you up out of the chair and followed close beside you as the two of you walked to the kitchen. A small part of you wanted to push back and reassure him that you could walk by yourself. The other part of you wasn’t one-hundred percent sure that was true in the first place.

You were surprised to see the rest of turtles already in the kitchen as you passed through the doorway. Mikey was whisking something in a bowl with bacon sizzling in a pan in front of him. Leo was buttering toast in between nursing a mug of coffee and Raph was already sitting at the table. You went to sit next to him with Donnie following suit not long after.

“Hey kiddo,” Raph said when he noticed you. He set his phone down and gave you a snaggle-tooth grin, “Glad to see you up and about.”

“Glad to be up and about,” you responded. 

“When did you guys get back?” Donnie asked. Leo had breezed by the table and set down two mugs and a pot of coffee in front of you. Donnie took a mug and immediately poured himself some, reaching over to Raph for the sugar bowl. 

“About a half hour ago,” Raph said. He passed the milk over to Donnie as well, “I sent Mikey to check up on y'all, but he said you two were busy.”

Leo snickered loudly on the other side of the kitchen. Donnie shook his head and sighed, stirring the milk into his coffee.

“Yep, real busy dreaming of Leo’s mom last night,” you deadpanned. Donnie cackled out a laugh, putting his hand up for a high five. You smacked his hand with yours without even looking.

Raph, without meaning too, stared a little too long at your hand. You tucked it under the table and ran your thumb over the raised skin again, clearing your throat as you looked away.

“To be clear, I do not endorse their juvenile humor,” Donnie said with a gentle blow over the top of his mug, “But any burn on Leo is one I support.”

“You wound me, compi,” Leo said dramatically. He set the plate of toast in the middle of the table alongside a few jars of homemade-looking jam before sitting down, “I execute a perfect rescue mission and this is how I’m treated?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough.”

“How’re you feeling, by the way?” Raph asked.

“Tired? Deeply distrusting of dark spaces?” you asked back, “Hungry, for sure.”

Raph barked a laugh and passed over a plate with two pieces of toast on it, grabbing another from the stack for himself with his other hand. You gave him a grateful smile and reached over for the blackberry jam, which Donnie scooted within your reach.

“Give me a second, I’ll have these eggs out soon,” Mikey said. He flipped them impressively into the air and caught them again in one fluid motion.

“Well for your first adventure, I would say you handled that splendidly,” Leo said, lifting his mug to his face.

“First?” you and Donnie asked at the same time, immediately realizing your mistake.

Leo put down his mug before it even could even reach his lips and looked between the two of you.

“Donnie…” Raph warned. Donnie could only gulp in response.

“Would it make you feel better if I told you that I’m statistically proven to kick ass?” you tried. You put up your fists in a faux attack stance.

“You have two data points and passed out during one of them,” Donnie said, nudging your foot with his.

You nudged him back with twice as much force, “That’s a point five batting average, baby! I’m fucking Babe Ruth over here.”

“Mmm, necrophilia,” Mikey said, finally sitting down at the table with a plate piled with scrambled eggs, “That’s not the development I expected out of my fiancé.”

You gave Mikey a devilish grin and reached for his hand across the table, “You know you’re the only one I’d wanna bone, Mikey-poo.”

Mikey snatched his hand away while he stuck out his tongue, clearly holding back a giggle, “And here I thought you just wanted me for my cooking.”

“It’s the first thing we’re advertising when we marry you off for money,” Leo said through a mouthful of toast.

Donnie cursed quietly beside you as he jumped up from the table. His paper cup was halfway crushed and steadily leaking flavorless juice onto the table. He flushed as you blinked at the display, pushing your own plate to the side to keep it away from the growing puddle.

(The whole lair ran off of paper plates and plastic forks. You didn’t think these boys had ever washed a dish in their whole life.)

(Except Mikey.)

(He was your beloved, after all.)

Donnie laughed awkwardly for a second, “These, uhhh… these aren’t mutant grade cups.”

“The paper towels, however, are rated E for everyone,” Mikey said, giving Donnie a look, “You know where they are.”

“Yes! Right,” Donnie said before heading for the cabinets. You scooped up some egg and deposited it on your plate, immediately putting a large forkful in your mouth.

You were not anticipating the huge wave of nausea that hit you right then.

You managed to choke down your food out of politeness, but not without a struggle. You had half a mind to steal Donnie’s coffee to wash it down if you didn’t think that it would make you feel a million times worse.

“The eggs okay?” Mikey asked, noticing your displeasure, “I went a little heavy with the paprika today.”

“Scrumptious,” you said. You did your best to give him a reassuring smile while you pushed your plate away, “Just feeling a little sick all of a sudden. You guys got any tea I can make?”

Donnie dropped the roll of paper towels directly onto the puddle, much to Mikey’s chagrin, “I got it! With honey?”

“You know me so well,” you said. You snorted a little as he practically ran to the pantry. Grabbing the paper towel roll, you started to mop up Donnie’s mess so Mikey wouldn’t lose his mind.

Siblings, man. No regard for sacred spaces.

Donnie ran back to the table with his arms full of tea boxes. He made a solid attempt at setting them down on the table next to you while he ran through the options, “Would you like green tea? Earl Grey? Lemon? Ginger? English–”

“Mint,” you said, plucking the box out of his arms and attempting to sneak past him to go make it yourself. Donnie pushed you back down into your seat by your shoulders. 

“Nope! Stay sitting,” Donnie said, grabbing the box from you, “We’re not having you pass out over a hot stove.”

“That seems extreme.”

“Your– your mother was extreme in bed last night!” Leo interrupted. He looked around at his brothers to garner the response, “Eh? Eh ?”

“Weak,” Mikey said.

“It’s barely tolerable when they do it, on you it’s just crass,” Donnie said. He pushed at Leo’s head as he walked by, garnering a scowl from Leo.

“I’m unappreciated in my time,” Leo said, crossing his arms.

“I thought it was good,” you tried, “Definitely solid.”

“I don’t need your pity laugh.”

You cackled at Leo and shook your head affectionately at him. Your eyes fell onto Donnie from across the room, watching him as he heated up the kettle. He was still wearing the hoodie from last night. You could’ve sworn that you had nabbed that one from him a few weeks ago.