Corruption (Fem!Reader) [long-shot] - you're injected with a suspicious liquid by Stone Gen. Aguila, and it turns you against everyone, including your boyfriend, Leonardo.
Caring S/O (imagines) [short-shot]
How he would react if you were almost hit (imagines) GN!Reader [short-shot]
Unrequited (GN! x reader) [long-shot] - progresses in a series of letters, Leonardo comes home from his training in hopes to confess his love to you, only to find out you're in a relationship with Raphael.
How he flirts/shows interest in you [short]
TMNT 2012
Dissociation (GN!Reader) [long-shot] - Leonardo gives you support while you experience dissociation.
~more coming soon~
ROTTMNT
Camera Shy (GN!Reader) [long-shot] - Leonardo makes you feel better after admitting to being insecure about taking photos.
❤️Raphael❤️
Rating all Raph’s [bc I can] (All versions) [short]
Red Flags & Toxic Traits (generalized) [short]
Green Flags and Positive Traits (generalized) [short]
TMNT 2007
Serendipity (chapter links included) - Moving to Manhattan to pursue college, you quickly notice strange things around the city. And when you encounter The Nightwacther one night, it seems your life has been turned upside down. [full fanfiction]
LINK TO THE SERENDIPITY PLAYLIST HERE
Reminiscent (GN!Reader) [long-shot] - you and Raphael reminisce about the old times while also spending some time together on the roof and soon your apartment.
Caring S/O (imagines) [short-shot]
The Confession (GN!Reader) [long-shot] - Because of Leo’s absence, Raphael is broken. He comes to you when he’s like this, and one night, it ends with confessing your feelings to him.
How he would react if you were almost hit (imagines) GN!Reader [short-shot]
Firsts [long-shot] - You and Raph seem to have a lot of close calls with one another. Donnie thinks one of these days your clumsiness will cause you both to accidentally share a kiss. Spoiler: he's right!
~more coming soon~
How he flirts/shows interest in you [short]
💜Donatello💜
Red Flags & Toxic Traits (generalized) [short]
TMNT 2007
Caring S/O (imagines) [short-shot]
~more coming soon~
🧡Michelangelo🧡
Red Flags & Toxic Traits (generalized) [short]
TMNT 2007
Caring S/O (imagines) [short-shot]
~more coming soon~
All Turtles !
TMNT Headcanons:
Speaking Japanese (All versions) [long]
Their Weaknesses (generalized) [short]
The Turtles being Touch-Starved (generalized) [short-shot]
What they’re Allergic to! (generalized) [short]
Zodiac Signs! (generalized) [short]
Toxic Traits (generalized) [short]
Toxic Traits Pt II (generalized) [short]
Special Traits/Talents *A.I GENERATED* (generalized) [short]
TMNT Characters: Bop or Flop (all versions) [long]
Rating Turtle Duos Because I Can [long]
What Piercing Would They Get? [short]
TMNT 2007
What Their (fem) Type is [short]
Baking Biscuits (Cat Mutant!S/O) [short]
Favorite Feature (plus-size friendly) [short]
Giving them a Positive Pregnancy Test as a Gift! (Fem!S/O) [short]
Wearing their color [short]
Seeing you, a (fem) Kunoichi, for the first time! [short]
Crimes the 2007 guys committed [short]
What it's like being their little sister [short]
Bayverse TMNT
What Music They Like [short]
Helping their S/O move into the Lair + A New APT! [short-shot]
The Turtles with a Touch-Starved S/O! [short-shot]
The Turtle's Fem!S/O Meeting Master Splinter [long-shot]
Gift-Giving (Fem!Reader) [short-shot]
TMNT 2012
Stressed Out S/O! [long-shot]
What Their (Fem) Type is [short]
TMNT Imagines:
Being Their Friend [A Guide] (All versions) [long]
Being Their S/O [A Guide] (All versions) [long]
Being Master Splinters adoptive daughter! (Generalized) [short]
S/O being Mugged/Stalked (2012) [long-shot]
Spilling your Feelings (Mixed versions) [long]
Embarrassing Photos (2007) [long]
Their reaction to you thanking them (2007) [short]
The poached egg on rye toast bled as you picked it up—not the cleanest breakfast, but it beat everything for flavor. Eyes glued to the TV, you watched as the troubling news of monsters gripped the city. These creatures, unlike your turtle friend, resembled nightmares from Greek mythology. For a week now, their presence dominated the headlines. Loose ends gave journalists easy fodder; blogs updated daily, gossip filled the streets, and businesses closed early—all because of these monsters; even some of your coworkers spoke about it in the group messaging. Long story short- people were scared, some were interested.
The “monster” of the day took over your TV screen. It looked 10ft tall. Even blurry, you could tell it wasn't from a science textbook. It resembled a silverback gorilla, but the blue fur and saber teeth didn't fit. It was huge, and the NYC police didn't have the tools to stop it.
However, they didn’t have to (lucky them). This beast seemingly vanished without a trace.
Finishing up your delicious yet messy breakfast, you wash your hands before shutting off the TV. The news still echoed in your mind as you left the kitchen, shifting focus to your own plans. It was still early in the day, but you decided to shoot Leo a quick text to see if he was busy tonight. After all, it was your day off. Maybe he would show up this time around.
You presumed your life was dull, always overwhelmed by work and with little time for yourself. Yet, Leonardo saw it differently. For a mutant turtle to call your life interesting made you reconsider—made you grateful. As the week went on, you realized Leonardo would never know a normal life—he hasn’t since mutating. When you started to pity him, you stopped. Leo didn’t like to be coddled; he didn’t want pity. He didn’t choose his mutation, but he chose to lead, to bear the burden. His choices deserved praise, not pity.
---
Leo's secret was his need for praise. It made him feel strong when things got tough. He craved Karai's rare compliments but would never admit it. Of course, he'd never confess his praise kink.
---
However, Leonardo hadn’t graced your window this whole week. Sure, you both exchanged text messages back and forth, but that wasn’t what you wanted.
You wanted Leonardo to visit in person, not just by text. After your first meeting, you stopped going to the rooftop—he already knew he was welcome. Yesterday, you even texted it, and Leo’s simple reply fit his style—no emojis, just plain words.
Truth be told, Leonardo didn’t like texting. He felt the emotions he had couldn’t be conveyed as clearly as he wanted.
Despite this, he didn’t call either.
He wasn’t sure if he should call. Responsibilities like training and mentoring kept him busy, and he avoided causing a commotion in the Lair. He mainly messaged April when he had time, and texting Casey was impossible because of the slang.
His device was simply for business, patrol, and the occasional YouTube video with whatever was currently piquing his interest.
Meanwhile, in the Lair, Leonardo's mind raced. What began as a decent morning (bruises and bandages aside) unraveled the moment Splinter switched on his soaps.
“Good morning, Sensei.” An out-of-tune chorus of brothers sang. Raphael muttered something to Leo, earning a scoff. Great. Just great. The events from last night didn’t exactly help mend their relationship. Sure, Leonardo and Raphael had a talk the night he returned, and Raph chose to forgive him at that time. Now? Raphael hated that they had bigger fish to fry, and Leonardo was indifferent to looking into it.
The truth? Raphael knew about these so-called monsters, and Leo did not. He didn’t know what they were up against, which is why he was so reserved last night in helping the Foot defeat the fuzzy beast. He didn’t want to deal with that, didn’t want to deal with Karai despite the truce between the two clans that came months after Shredder’s death.
“I’m sorry, Leo.”
The sincere look on her face as she apologized last night meant nothing to the leader. He was over her. For real this time.
“Don’t, Karai.” His voice remained at a low hum, not wanting anything to do with the kunoichi in front of him.
“I’m restoring honor to the Foot. Something that was blinded by jealousy. A vendetta.”
“We won’t be a part of that.”
Leonardo was firm with his words. Whatever the Foot was doing, he wanted nothing to do with it. He was fooled once, and it won’t happen again. \
“Whatever, Raph.” The leader sipped his oolong tea, wishing it were the hibiscus you gave him. He settled for his usual.
Before Leonardo could take a look at the message he received from his new human friend, Splinter’s voice rang throughout the living room.
“Boys!” Just perfect timing. The scowl on the rat’s face was a clear indicator that this meeting was going to be a lecture. Splinter was clear on Leonardo’s instruction for the team from day 1: Stay hidden- and don’t make it on the 9 o’clock news.
Splinter was disappointed; he expected better from his sons, especially Leonardo. They knew his rules.
“This is not what I asked for when I let you all go up to the surface.”
“We’re sorry, Sensei.” An ensemble of turtles said defeatedly. Leo’s head remained down, yet he snuck a peek at his red-banded brother, whose eyes shot daggers at him. Shifting uncomfortably, Leo’s focus went back to the hardwood floor. Why was Raphael shooting him like that? It’s not like he did anything wrong. In fact, this whole thing really was Mikey’s fault. But when you’re stuck in the sewers for a year with nothing to do on the surface except go to work, you’d get a little antsy.
Despite this being 100% Mikey’s fault, Leo must take the heat for the simple fact that he’s the leader.
“Next is a news special of you all in high definition.” That was Splinter’s biggest fear. His sons knew that, yet they continued to unironically play around with this fear every time they stepped out of the sewer.
“Any thoughts, Leonardo?” Splinter inquired, gazing at his eldest. Usually, Leonardo would have the corporate answer to this, yet the only thing on his mind from last night was the extremely obese fuzzy monster they encountered. Although a small part of his brain was thinking about what Karai’s version of rebuilding the Foot was.
“I don’t think this situation pertains to us, Sensei.” Leonardo’s sentence was immediately met with a scoff from his left side. Raph.
“You disagree, Raphael?”
“Hell, yeah, I-” “Language.” Splinter’s warning boomed throughout the dojo, to which Mikey stifled a laugh the best he could.
“Sorry, Sensei. Yeah, I disagree. I think we’d benefit from knowin’ what the Foot is up to even if Shreddah ain’t around anymore.” Leonardo opened his mouth to speak, yet nothing came out. His lips pursed together, unsure if he should put in his two cents. What would it matter, anyway? He surely didn’t want to sit here going back and forth with Raphael all day.
“Hmm. I will meditate on this. It appears Michelangelo agrees with you on this, Raphael. Of course he did. Any excuse to go topside, Mikey was on board for.
With that, the turtles’ scolding from their Master ended. Splinter, now older, found his sons were staying in line and following the rules, so he rarely had to lecture or put them in the Hashi. Still, sometimes he had to step out of retirement to do just that. Most days, though, he trained with his sons or watched soap operas in his spare time.
Later, after the meeting, leaving the dojo, the leader’s mind pulled itself in different directions. From the unknown identity of The Nightwatcher, to monsters running free. What exactly was going on in the city?
Going to his room, Leonardo glanced at the analog clock pinned up on the wall- 10:45AM. It was still morning, almost afternoon. With all the events and the team's rebuilding, you were placed on the back burner.
And although Leonardo was still getting to know you, he realized something: if he was going to be friends with you, he needed to open up more. Yet, that was something Leonardo was unsure if he was ready for. So, what does Leo do if he needs advice?
“Sorry to bother, Sensei.” Leo enters the serene, silent room. The door creaked as he closed it behind him. Despite the scolding he and the others received early this morning, he knew Master Splinter would be open to conversation. His father was never one to hold grudges; it simply wasn’t in his nature.
“Oh, don’t apologize, Leonardo. You are never a bother to me.” Despite Splinter’s back being turned to his son, Leo knew what he said was genuine. Besides, he was always just that.
“I have something I need to share with you.”
“You didn’t get recorded in high definition, did you!?” Splinter’s voice rose slightly with anxiousness and irritation, yet once Leo denied this hastily, a wave of relief blew over his sensei.
“No, it’s not that. I met someone a while back. A girl.” As Leo kneeled before his father, he watched his father's ears perk up in curiosity. One thing was sure for Splinter, despite his age; he LOVED gossip. Tea, if you will.
“Oh?” A faint smile appeared on the old mutant’s face, only for Leo to sigh, a tinge of embarrassment on his green cheeks. “No, not like that either, Sensei.”
Splinter stands up, although he’s still eye level with a kneeling mutant turtle, “Are you sure?” His small, beady eyes looked into his son’s chestnut ones as silence filled the room.
Leo clears his throat, “I’m sure, Splinter.”
“Hmm…” Leo watches his master walk around the meditation room, walking toward a large candle on the wooden table that simply needed to be lit. “A friend, then?” He strikes a single match, the small yet fiery flame illuminating the dim room before meeting the candle’s wick.
“A friend, yeah.” Leo’s low voice replied, although he wasn’t sure why his father automatically assumed he’d found himself a girlfriend. Raph, sure. Leo though? Leo had been single for basically his whole life- and he wasn’t counting Karai. However, (and we take this to the grave, everybody!) Leo had a tiny crush on April once he became comfortable around her. Yet, that feeling immediately left. He concluded that he had only liked April because she was the first female they’d actually met who wasn’t running for the hills as soon as she laid eyes on him and his brothers.
It was the first time Leonardo had spoken about you to anyone other than his younger brother. He talked with his sensei for a while, about 20 minutes. All about you. About your profession, your passion, and your acceptance. He talked about how he was wary of you at first, and yes, he mentioned the part where you snapped a photo of him (Splinter didn’t like that part much); however, he liked that you were understanding enough to let Leo delete it from your phone.
“How did she react?” Splinter asked. By this point, the conversation had moved to the empty kitchen table. Nobody was around, and Leo sipped his Oolong tea slowly, getting comfortable with the idea of describing what kind of person you were to his Sensei. Leonardo also knew that he couldn’t keep you a secret, especially from Master Splinter.
“She wasn’t scared,” Leo says, “She was taking it all in, but spoke enough to where I knew she wasn’t scared.” That was his biggest fear that night- fear. He didn’t want to hurt himself in his efforts to be accepted by society. And he didn’t- you accepted him for what he was- took time to understand, even.
“It’s not every day humans accept us for what we are, my son. You know this.” The rat’s soft smile doesn’t falter, especially when he puts a supportive paw on his son’s warm shoulder. Leonardo found himself thinking about you again, your smile with gleaming e/c eyes clouding his mind.
“I would like to meet her, Leonardo.” Leonardo didn’t really like the sound of that. He wasn’t completely turned off at the idea, per se; it was just that…well, Leo wasn’t sure how you would react to being brought down into the sewer to meet his family. Though his uncertainty about your acceptance so far has been mitigated. If you were able to talk and invite him into your home, you may enjoy him doing the same.
Still, he was wary of his master’s idea.
“No rush, my son.” Splinter saw the mental flips Leo was doing. Leo liked to ease into things, not move too fast. He wanted to get used to you. To see if you’d be comfortable meeting three more mutant turtles and a humanoid mutant rat. Leo could envision almost every single scenario his brain could come up with. How scenario one played with you being welcomed with open arms from his family, whilst scenario two played with you refusing to go down the manhole, even with Leo’s reassuring words and helping hand. The scenarios seemed to span from horribly bad to the best possible outcome.
“Thanks, Dad.” Leo’s subtle smile warmed his father’s heart. Although his sons were all grown up, he still reminisces at times about when they were much younger. He remembers Leo’s sloppy form when he first started training, Donnie’s fear of being hit, Raph’s pent-up anger, and Mikey's art of angering every single one of his brothers during training. Although their teenage years are behind them, Splinter still catches a glimpse of a 16-year-old Leonardo every now and then.
“Um…” Leo scratches the back of his neck awkwardly, “Can we keep this between us, Sensei?”
“You don’t want your brothers to know?” Splinter wondered out loud. He stroked his beard slowly, awaiting his son’s response.
“Donnie knows. But…” He sighs defeatedly- shameful even, “I don’t think I’m ready to get an earful from the other two.”
“I see,” The mutant rat takes his last sip of chamomile tea, only for Leo to do the same with his Oolong- truly like father like son, “I will not say a word, Leonardo.”
The blue-banded turtle was relieved to hear this, “But,” Oh. There was always a ‘but’ when it came to Splinter agreeing to something, “You will have to tell them eventually. Secrets are not exactly your strong suit.” Although Leo was a tad offended by his father’s words, he was right. When it came to Leo, he wasn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets. After all, almost every single one of his secrets came out in due time.
“Hai, Sensei.”
~
Once early evening came around, it was looking like a fend-for-yourself kind of night when it came to dinner in the Lair. Mikey was currently at a birthday gig, which meant it was either pizza night or compiling something from the fridge without Mikey’s guidance. Leonardo dreaded nights like these (for very obvious reasons.) Though not opposed to pizza, he knew it was the only option as he watched Donnie and Raph put on their coats and sweats to leave. He wasn’t in the mood for it.
Leo’s brown eyes began scanning around the empty living room, concluding that he’d pay his new friend a visit. Besides, Mikey would be back in a few hours; this gave him some leeway before patrol happens (depending on how beat up Mikey gets, he’ll either join or sulk on the couch in pain while the others are gone.)
“Off to the surface, my son?” An old voice inquired. Leonardo’s head whipped around in surprise, defeated by the idea that he could hear anyone sneaking up behind him but his own sensei. The turtle in blue wasn’t one to tell a lie, especially not to his master, “For a few hours, is that alright?” Leo was in the process of putting his kneepads on, his navy blue hoodie still hung up on the coat hook in front of the Lair’s entrance.
“Not hungry?” Splinter asked. The small rat walks up to his tall son, scanning the back of his shell for any imperfections or injuries. Although he had grown up, Splinter still felt obligated to do so.
“Not for pizza.”
“Going to April’s for dinner?” This was quite common for the leader in blue. In the process of expanding his palette and weaning off pizza before his training, he’d frequent April’s home for a warm home-cooked meal. Though the jig was up when Mikey realized he could take a day off from cooking if it meant April would be.
“No, just to pay Y/n a visit.”
“Ahh, I see.” Splinter’s subtle grin presented itself, wrinkles peeking in the corners of his eyes.
“Be safe out there, Leonardo.” Splinter was still aware of the many dangers the surface had to offer, even if the Shredder was gone. The world still turned, and criminals still walked the city’s streets. In short, the turtles will always have a job to do, no matter who they defeat.
“I will, Sensei.” Leo’s soft voice muffled as he put on his sweater, feeling the warmth it had to offer. Though silly for a mutant turtle to wear human clothes, it was vital for his health.
---
“AchOO!” A stuffy, 16-year-old Leo let out another sneeze. The slim, oral thermometer flew out, smacking the “doctor” square in the face.
“Ow!” The purple banded turtle winced in pain, his bedside manner running thin as this was the 4th time in the same month Leonardo had gotten sick.
“Sorry.” Despite the Hamato family thinking Mikey would be the one susceptible to colds and fevers, Leonardo was actually the winning contender.
“I told you to wear your sweater, Leo.” Donnie softly scolded, putting the back of his hand on the leader’s forehead, “It’s early January, we’re cold-blooded, we-” “I know, Don, I just…” Truth be told, Leonardo felt like his scarf and the thin sweater he'd found a while ago would be enough, despite Donnie's warning that it wouldn’t keep him from getting sick. Plus, he and Raphael got into an argument the other day, and a silent protest for Leo was not to wear Raph’s work. He explained this to Donatello.
“Wow. That’s…” Donnie couldn’t believe what he was hearing from his older brother right now. I mean, the level of- “That’s next level petty right there, dude!” Yeah, petty. Thanks, Mikey, for interrupting the author’s monologue.
“Mikey’s right. Leo, just wear the sweater Raph knitted you.” Donnie said, “It’s important that we stay warm.”
“I…fine.” Unfortunately, Don was right. Leonardo’s method of getting back at Raph really backfired, and did nothing but get him sick. Besides, that thin green sweater was a little itchy anyway.
“And please,” Donnie began to plead, “Try not to get sick again, at least for the next month or so, I’m gonna start to work on this anti-mutagen for April’s dad.”
“You think if you used it on me, I’d turn human?” Mikey wondered out loud as he touched anything and everything in Donnie’s lab, literally.
“Um…” Leo turned to Donnie, and Donnie to Leo, wondering what exactly got Mikey to this thought.
“You’d just be a regular turtle again, Mikey.” Leo weakly said, “Yeah, and I don’t think Raph wants to take care of another turtle, let alone it being you.” Donnatello added.
“I’d be a cool pet turtle, dude. I could eat pizza, and just chill out!” Exclaimed the youngest brother.
“You know you’d have to eat leaves and pellets, right? You wouldn’t be able to have pizza, ever.” Before the turtle in purple could begin to explain the standard turtle diet, Mikey’s face of absolute shock and horror at this news shut Donnie right up.
“Uhh… never mind. Please don’t use that goo on me, bro!” The two older brothers sigh, with Donnie beginning to jot down Leo’s health update on his chart.
“Wasn’t planning on it, Mikey. But, you eat my last Pop-Tart again, I might consider it.”
---
Leonardo was excited to get out of the sewer tonight. The cool air was blocked from hitting his body except for his face, and he enjoyed that feeling. The sunset truly captured the essence of Manhattan in all its beauty, and the leader in blue couldn’t help but stop on a rooftop to watch it unfold.
Leonardo had sent you a message earlier, asking if you’d be okay with him stopping by later. However, you didn’t respond. Leo wasn't sure what your texting habits were because you’ve only known each other for a short time. Coming to homes unannounced was more Mikey and Raph’s thing, but Leo (on some occasions) would visit April for tea to clear his mind. He seldom hoped he could do the same with you.
As he ran on the roofs of many buildings, sprinting like second nature, his mind wandered to you once more. He was asking questions, some of which he didn’t know the answer to. His first thought had been of your parents and what they were like; the second was your relationships. He didn’t see a ring on your finger, nor did the many photos on your wall indicate any idea that you were in a romantic relationship. If you were single, it meant Leo wouldn’t feel guilty showing up unannounced. Of course, you’ve both just become acquainted, but there were boundaries the turtle in blue wouldn’t cross. He wouldn’t want to constantly seek out your companionship just to come to the realization that he was taking up time away from your romantic one.
~
Lucky and unbeknownst to Leonardo, he couldn’t possibly do that.
The radio sitting atop the kitchen counter had turned to your favorite song, your phone buried in your unmade bed. You were totally ready to make something good to eat, and you were about to be in the zone.
However, before you could begin, a small idea popped into your head.
Leo.
His name graced your mind, and the image of the mutant turtle was one you smiled at. So much so that you moved to your room to grab your cellphone.
As you rummage through the bedsheets and plushies, your hand finally feels for the familiar device. However, as you pick it up, your screen flashes an unread message from your new friend.
LEO 6:45PM
Hey, Y/n. Are you busy tonight? I was wondering if I could come see you. I’ve been a little busy with some things, and wanted to see how you were doing.
It appeared that great minds think alike, as Leonardo asked if it was okay to see you. Though you didn’t want to overthink it, the phrase “come see you” made your cheeks flush. His message meant he wanted to come over and spend some time with you. Although you might be reading into things, it was a nice change of pace from what you’re used to.
Before you could dial his number, a light knock was heard at your window. It had a familiar sound, used only once before.
“Leo?” You asked, head tilted to the side as you peered into the window, your phone held up to your left ear by your shoulder.
The window provided a beautiful view of the city. Living on the top floor was truly a blessing. The sky was painted a deep orange on the horizon, flaring out in an ombre from pink to yellow, and then directly above, clouds engulfed in a blue-gray hue. The moon was sure to arrive soon, and the turtle on the opposite side of the window flashed a grin- though Leo was a little embarrassed to be showing up like this.
“I was just about to call you, actually.” It seemed these words caused a wave of relief in Leo’s mind.
“I hope it's okay I showed up like this.” Leo’s sheepish look continued before you waved a dismissive hand in the air. “Don’t worry about it,” you said. “I was hoping to see you anyway.”
Leonardo wondered why you wanted to see a 6’2 mutant turtle. It surely wasn’t to stare, he figured that much.
“How’ve you been the past few days?” Leo shut the window behind him, the night sky turning dark as the moon was finally on its way to take the sun’s place. “Good. I’ve been good; I finally have a day off, so I’ve been relaxing this whole time. How about you?”
Leonardo didn’t want to bombard you with how he was actually feeling with all the things going on in the city, yet he wanted to talk about it: “Pretty good, my brothers decided to eat pizza again for the millionth time this week, and I’m so over it.” Innocent conversation between you two came naturally ever since the first time you spoke to each other; it wasn’t awkward or forced.
“Oh?” You chuckle lightly, “You’re in luck tonight, I’m about to make dinner. Wanna help?”
“Help?” The turtle’s brown eyes scanned the ingredients sitting on the counter once you both moved to the living room. “Are you sure?” Leo shifts in the chair, the same one he sat in last time. Though small, it showed you he was beginning to get comfortable sitting in your space.
“More than sure,” You grab two medium-sized cutting boards from the drawer and two knives from the holster,
“Besides, I owe you a cooking lesson, right?”
~
“I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be nervous, Leo; it’s just some garlic cloves.” You were finally ready to teach your turtle friend how to cook. Your choice tonight was seared chicken with rice and broccoli. Simple enough, right?
Leo was shitting bricks right now. He grabbed the knife with such a wary hand, afraid he would mess something up. Your gentle voice guided him nicely, as your movements were to be mirrored. He watched you across the table in front of him, looking down at your own board with two cloves of garlic. “Hold the knife like so,” your guidance was seldom helpful, Leo’s brown eyes observed intently as you held the kitchen knife in your dominant hand, fingers gripped tightly along the handle, middle finger knuckle bent along the bolster.
Your eyes locked with Leonardo’s, then with how he was holding his kitchen utensil. It was going to be a little more difficult because of the whole three-fingered thing, plus his hands were significantly larger than your own. Yet, he soon relaxed and tried to hold it daintily, as he’s seen on those cooking shows on TV.
“Close,” You say, “Can I show you?” Your voice took Leo out of his own confused world. “Yes, please.” He didn’t plead, more like he was trying to play it cool. Before he knew it, you were standing right next to him, a guiding hand dancing along his fingers that sat on the knife.
“You’re going to lose a finger with the way you’re holding it,” Leo softly chuckled, a little embarrassed, “And we don’t have too many of those, right?” The turtle smiled, “We don’t, chef.”
“Chef?” You snickered, “I’ll take it. Anyway, you want to hold it like this,” Leo’s fingers adjusted with each of your movements. The feeling of your smooth hands was a stark contrast to his calloused ones. Despite this, Leo felt comfortable. Though only knowing the touch of a woman from Karai, Leonardo did not know how to react, or what to say. So, he stayed still and listened. He listened intuitively as you instructed him to tighten his grip and to always protect his fingers with his knuckles. You smiled and praised him once he got the hand placement down.
“Good job, now, you can slice them- but remember that your knuckles protect your fingertips from getting cut open.”
“Uhmm…I…” The clove of garlic was so small that it would be virtually impossible for Leonardo to cut it. Hell, he couldn’t even get a grip on it!
“Sorry, Leo.” You chuckled sheepishly as Leo’s pink cheeks flooded with mild embarrassment, which went undetected by you.
“How about we start with a larger vegetable, yeah?”
~
It was painfully obvious tonight: Leonardo had no clue how to cook. Yet, it didn’t seem to bother you at all. You took your time teaching the mutant, being patient with every cut, flip, boil, steam, and sear you both did together. Sure, this meal could’ve been done in under 30 minutes- but a long 2 hours later, and it was finally done.
“How was it?” You asked before cutting into the chicken on your plate. Leonardo swallowed his forkful of rice before answering.
“It was hard,” he admits, “but not too bad, you’re a great teacher.” Hearing Leonardo say that caused a smile to appear on your face.
“Aww! Thanks. You’re sweet, Leo.” It warmed Leonardo on the inside to hear you compliment him like that. Unfortunately, he wasn’t used to compliments like that from women, let alone learning a skill that was virtually impossible for him to do. Sure, for 65% of the time, learning, he stepped back and watched how you did a task before feeling comfortable enough to do it on his own. On your end, it was almost cute to see Leonardo so focused on mirroring your movements. Not only that, but it seemed the blue-banded turtle was very into what you were teaching. He asked hundreds of questions, and you answered each and every single one with enough detail for him to understand.
Unfortunately for Leonardo, a familiar feeling was beginning to brew in his midsection with every touch of your hand on his. Though he didn’t want to acknowledge it. He didn’t- no- couldn’t think that Donnie would be right about this friendship with you. As you both sat across from each other at the kitchen table, eating quietly, Leonardo snuck in quick glances while you were focused on your plate of food or the news on the television. His eyes seemed to trace your facial features, and any distinct marks you may have also were highlighted.
“Leo?” Your voice snapped Leo out of his funk; unbeknownst to the leader in blue, you had been softly saying his name to spark a conversation.
“Hmm?”
“I said, have you seen any of this on the news yet? This is like the second time I saw this headline today.” Leo turned his head to see what you were talking about. Lo and behold, it was the same news Splinter had seen earlier today. He wasn’t sure whether he should tell you the truth about it.
He chose not to.
“I saw it today, but I’m not sure where they came from.” His response didn’t satisfy you, though.
“Aren’t there other mutants out there?” You asked. Sure, there was.
“I’ve had my fair share, but never encountered something like that.” Leo gestures to the TV before turning back around to face you. “Who knows, maybe the Nightwatcher will take care of it.”
“I don’t think he could handle all that, Y/n.” You weren’t aware that the vigilante was a sore spot for the turtle, but with the way his face scrunched up just from the talk about him, you decided not to press the matter.
“What about you?”
“Me?” He asked, slightly amused, “You think I can take monsters ten times my size?”
“I think so.” You get up before walking toward the cabinet. “Want a drink?” Leonardo eyed his glass of water–half full. His eyes landed on the bottle of unopened Pinot Grigio in your hands, presenting it to him like an unwrapped present and gleaming as you did so.
“I don’t really drink like that…” His voice trailed off, remembering the numerous times where he’d end up supervising a drunk Casey on Thanksgiving day at April’s.
“Oh, no worries, Leo. I’ll keep it out in case you want some.” Once you popped the cork off and poured yourself a hefty glass, it enticed Leonardo to follow suit. Besides, it wasn’t like Leo couldn’t handle alcohol; he just preferred to save it for special occasions. Come to think of it, tonight would technically be considered a special occasion. He spent two hours learning how to cook a simple meal with arguably the best instructor, so…ah, to hell with it. Why not? It’s not like Leo hadn’t drunk before with Raph and Casey (cheers to cheap liquor and watching Casey get white girl wasted!) Although it was only one shot, Leo spent the majority of the night babysitting Casey with Raph, and watching Casey projectile on Raph’s plastron as he was helping him to bed. Sidenote: make sure Casey eats something before he drinks!
“Actually,” The brown-eyed turtle gently took the wine glass in his hand, bottle in the other, “I’ll have a little,” and he did just that. Barely half a glass was poured into his cup. As the glass touched his lips and the wine graced his tongue, he realized that white wine wasn’t so bad.
It was good.
“Next time we can use this for cooking,” You suggest. However, Leo shoots you a confusing look. “Like…infusing?”
“Not exactly,” taking a long sip, you grab the bottle to show Leo, “You can use it for making pan sauces and marinating- amongst other stuff. Red wine for red meat, white wine for fish and poultry. Cool, right?”
“Very. I definitely learn something new every time I see you.” Your small talk had continued, and you were slowly coming to the realization about one thing:
You admired Leo.
You didn’t tell him that, obviously. But maybe one day.
~
Once Leonardo left your home that night, it appeared that the more you spoke and got to know him, the more he was able to be himself around you.
As the weeks went on, Leonardo had graced your presence twice a week. With each visit came a new cooking lesson with your turtle friend, and it felt like you were getting closer. On days you went to work, Leonardo made it a habit to make sure you got home safe, and soon began escorting you home. Nightly walks (rooftop runs on his shell, actually) with Leo happened almost every night after your shift. Especially when things were heating up around the city.
---
“Leo, I’ll be okay. Scout’s honor.” You could’ve keeled over by now if it weren’t for the brown-eyed turtle standing in front of you. Your nightly walk had been compromised, as you knew it (according to Leo). Another monster sighting was reported around the Hudson Grille, and the Purple Dragons had recently been frequenting the area.
“I can’t let you walk out here at night like that, Y/n.” It was hard not to do just that, considering that’s all you’ve been doing for the entire time you’ve been working at the restaurant.
“What if I say ‘no?” You mused, unsure if Leo could see your slight smirk in the darkness of the alleyway behind your workplace.
“I never took you as someone stubborn, Y/n.” Leo’s arms were obviously crossed as he tapped an impatient foot in response to your deviance. You weren’t getting out of this that easily. “It’s for your safety, and my peace of mind.”
“Peace of mind?” Your eyes moved to the crescent moon in the sky; nothing but cars passing and honking filled the silence between you two. “Hmm…”
“What?” A confused voice asked, “I can’t be worried about a friend?”
“No, not that.” You corrected, “You don’t have to take time away from protecting the city to make sure I’m okay is all. I’d feel bad.” Sincerely said, Leonardo’s stance softened. Long gone was the motherly toe tap to make sure the little duckling followed him home. He had already informed you of his extracurricular activities regarding the city, yet you still thought about others’ safety before your own.
You didn’t have to, though. Not tonight.
“Y/n,” He starts, facing you. Finally, the street lights come on, illuminating somewhat of the dark alley, “I have three other brothers who can protect the city just as much as I can, don’t feel bad.”
Before you could protest or say anything else, he placed a calloused hand on your messy hair from the intense work shift you just had to smooth it out, “I just want to make sure you’re safe.”
His words were calm, reassuring. Leo’s brown eyes locked onto your e/c ones- dark circles under from being so tired painted on your face as they belonged there due to your profession.
“Well…” You were convinced. Leo was standing in front of you, and it didn’t look like he was going anywhere until you agreed.
“As long as I’m not taking time away from what you’re doing, I’ll go with you.”
“You sure?” Despite his glorified begging, he still had to ask. To make sure you really were okay with him accompanying you back home.
With a smile, of course, you nodded, “I’m sure.”
~
“The roof.” You deadpanned, neck practically breaking from looking up at the fire escape in front of you.
“It’s not so bad, promise.” That wasn’t so helpful for your internally panicked mind, yet, Leo (with a sly smile, ooh), with grace and ease, began climbing the first set of stairs.
Sighing, you tighten the straps on your bookbag so it sits snug on your shoulders and back. “It’s pretty high up, dontcha think?”
“Here,” A large green hand stuck out for you to take, a gentle turtle on the opposite end. “I’ll make sure you won’t fall, okay?” You took a moment, looking at Leo, then at his open palm, and then at the top of the escape before finally admitting defeat by placing your hand in his.
“I swear if I fall…-” “You won’t, scout’s honor.”
“Funny.” You chuckled, following behind the leader in blue as he guided you up the stairs. Once up onto the rooftop, your grasp from Leo’s now warm hand ceased before he walked toward the edge of the building- not before looking back at you to make sure you were okay.
His silent grin told you all you needed to know. Broad green-skinned shoulders seemed to shine with the help of the moon as his content eyes greeted your anxious ones.
“Ready to make like a banana and split?”
“Yeah, but ho-” “Whoa there, bud-!” Before you could ask how you’d be jumping (because let’s be honest, you weren’t about to be jumping from rooftop to rooftop like some thief in the night, regardless of your athletic ability), Leo hoists you up on the back of his shell within the blink of an eye.
“You’ll be safe, just hang on tight, okay?”
~
“A little too tight there, Y/n!” He coughed in between breaths. Whoops, who would’ve thought that you could actually cut off the circulation of a mutant turtle!? “Sorry!” You yelled over the wind and noise from down below. As you rode on his shell, you were able to see what Leo sees on his nightly patrol of the city. A clear night sky, no stars yet some could be seen, clear of all the air pollution. You could hear curses from down below, the city clearly living up to its expectation: It doesn’t sleep. Ever.
“This is…kinda cool!” Your head sat snuggled on the crook of Leo’s neck, his scent a strong white tea mixed with hints of jasmine and mint. Every breath, exhale, and cough you were able to feel rumble from his chest.
“Beats being down there?” He asks between breaths. You nodded in agreement with a loud “Mhhmm!”
“Ever climbed any buildings around here?” Leo could vividly remember at the ripe age of 16 when Mikey lost a bet to Raph and was dared to climb the Empire State Building. Don’t worry, he’s alive and well. But he learned a lesson that night: not all buildings are meant to be climbed by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.
“Help me down, bro!” Mikey’s pubescent voice echoed through the leader’s brain as he continued sprinting across buildings, making sure not to go too fast that you lost your balance.
“Empire State Building. But, not by choice.” Leo retells the story of having to help Mikey down from the top of the structure, and how his baby brother learned he was scared of heights. Real bad.
“Mutant turtles of heights?”
“Just buildings over 700 feet high, I know, I know- I was mad at him already for eating the last two pieces of pizza knowing me and Don only had one slice, so…a lesson was learned that night.”
“Petty, are we?” You smirked.
“Only when I have to be.” You could feel the smirk forming on his lips. But you liked it.
Once you finally got home and touched the sacred ground of your apartment building’s rooftop, you turned to Leo, gleaming.
“I liked this. Walking with you. Can we do this more often?”
That’s what started it. This confusing feeling was brewing inside the leader. What once was a girl whom he only needed to delete a photo from has now turned into a whole other situation. But it was one he enjoyed. Leonardo was an obvious protector, and he made it a point to protect you, too.
There were things out there that you couldn’t handle, but Leo could.
There were people out there you definitely couldn’t handle, but Leo could.
But…Leo didn’t know how he was supposed to feel about you. Sure, you were becoming very close to each other, and Leo anticipated nights to hang out with you. Yet, he was fighting with himself and his emotions. More so now than ever.
What started as an innocent friendship between a human and a mutant became something confusing for the leader in blue.
I know, right? Fearless leader, confident spirit, Splinter Jr, the list of aliases goes on.
Leonardo’s years of training didn’t prepare him for companionship with women.
So he trudged to April’s apartment the next night after the thought of you continued to cause that bubbly feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t ready for it.
“Leo?” April rubbed her tired eyes, confused as to why the leader, out of all the turtles, was on her fire escape.
“Yeah…hey, April.” Leo greeted sheepishly. He felt bad for bothering her so late into the night, but he had no one else to turn to who would understand from a woman’s perspective.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, no, everything’s fine. I just…” He sighs in defeat, “I just needed to talk to you about something.”
“Oh? What’s up?”
“There’s this girl.” April’s discerning face caused the mutant to quickly add onto his sentence,
“Not in the Foot Clan.” Her face softened, the sparkle immediately returning to her once-fatigued green eyes.
“Perfect!” The redhead was gleaming, “Music to my ears!” Sparkling, even, “Tell me everything!”
Leonardo didn’t expect to be at April’s window opening up like this. Curse U.S History documentaries. Yeah, all because of a film you both decided to watch the other night. One moment together. One…silly little moment had Leo’s mind all jumbled up, thinking about how Donatello just might be right. Might.
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A phrase Leonardo seldom knew. He kept many things to himself, never revealing them. Yet one man could break his walls: his sensei, Master Splinter. Splinter always understood the burden Leonardo carried as foreman of his team.
As a leader, he learned not to let his emotions rule him. Time and training helped him master this.
His brothers shared much, but couldn't truly understand Leo's burden or what it meant to be responsible for all.
They didn’t know what it was like for him in the jungle. A full year of isolation. Although communicating by letter to his friends and family wasn’t the same as talking face-to-face, it was better than nothing.
So yes, Leonardo found himself talking more, making up for lost time. The barrage of groan-worthy dad jokes in the Lair was endless. He craved the social part of life he’d missed for so long. Since returning, training with his brothers went smoothly. Sure, Raphael would offer a smart remark now and then. But Leonardo was wiser now. He wouldn’t give into ragebait—absolutely not. Raphael was a professional in that department. Raphael fed off of reactions, and the more you responded, the more satisfied he became.
He wasn’t the best at showing emotional vulnerability to others. Raphael wasn’t the best with words, Donatello used statistics rather than his heart, and Mikey was always glass-half-full, often neglecting the negatives of a situation.
Emotional vulnerability requires trust. To be open, trust must be built.
Trust.
Trust made Leo indifferent. He tried to give people the benefit of the doubt, but couldn’t in the clan, gang, or ninja world. Outside his family, he only trusted April and Casey. Karai earned some trust, but looking back, it would never have worked. She was the enemy.
And you cannot trust the enemy.
As Leonardo stepped forward, he wondered: What would happen after you saw him? Would you keep your word and not judge—prove you weren’t as shallow as he feared?
His final step is into the moonlight. You take your very first look at Leo.
You couldn't speak, your mind racing to process what stood before you.
Same broad shoulders, same muscles. He stood relaxed, but grew uncomfortable the longer you stared.
Olive green skin, rugged at the biceps and forearms. A wide snout, flat lips. Ace bandages on his joints. A brown belt held what looked like a phone at his waist.
A plastron and a large shell were attached to him.
Twin swords strapped to his shell: handles striped maroon and deep yellow, grips padded. The hilts showed wear, but the polished blades glowed—a sign of regular maintenance.
Three large fingers. His hands were significantly larger than yours—a difference that made him suddenly conscious of how different he was.
The same blue mask.
Anxious brown eyes behind it, searching your face for reassurance.
You took in his appearance, and it didn’t unsettle you. He wasn’t some hideous monster, as he feared; simply someone unusual.
His eyes scanned your face, trying to pick up a read on what you were feeling. How would you react once it all settled in?
You didn’t speak. But fear wasn’t an emotion he saw.
“You’re not scared,” he states, his voice tinged with surprise and a touch of vulnerability. He braced himself for the possibility of rejection, expecting you to be grossed out or laugh. But you didn’t. You simply stood there and stared, and a quiet relief began to settle over him.
“No, I’m not,” You say softly after a moment of silence, your body taking a step forward to the being in front of you. One step turned into two, then three. Then, finally, right up to Leo.
“What are you?” He appeared to be a turtle, yet possessed human qualities.
“A turtle. Mutant turtle, actually.” He didn’t look too bad for being a mutant. You knew mutants existed based on the blogs you’ve read about sightings, but you would’ve never imagined actually seeing one in the flesh.
You watched Leo’s chest finally level out- the deep breath he was holding with anxiousness turned into relief as you stuck out your hand, “It’s nice to meet you, Leo.”
He took your hand into his own, gripping it softly as he shook it. “Leonardo, Leo is the shorter version.”
“Like Da Vinci?” you asked, your hand still in his. His palm felt rough, calloused, and a little cold, yet warmed yours against the night air.
You didn’t pull away. Despite his hand being larger than your own, it felt secure in a way.
“Yeah, exactly like the artist.” He takes his hand back slowly, your fingers being introduced to the cool air.
“I told you I wouldn’t freak out.” You say, gleaming at the turtle. Leonardo purses his lips, and before he could say something, the device strapped to his waist began to ring.
Your expression then falters to a slight frown, head lowered. “You have to go?” You didn’t want him to; in fact, you were hoping he’d stay for a bit. Checking your own phone as he excuses himself to pick up his, the time flashes across the screen: 1:10AM.
“Yeah, I’ll be back home in a few. Just getting some fresh air. Okay. Yep. See you soon, Don.” He puts his phone back in its place, folding his arms to generate warmth.
Who was this ‘Don?’ You wondered. Could there be more mutants like Leo out there? Turtles, maybe?
“In a bit. But, I have some time.” He admitted. He notices how your eyes look up at him with content when he hints he could spend some more moments with you until he has to go back home.
“Would you like to come inside for a bit, Leo? I live alone, so you won’t have to worry about anyone seeing you.” After a pause and a look around your rooftop, he decides it’d be okay.
“I would, actually.”
~
“Welcome to mi casa!” You announce, walking toward the ivory extension cord on the floor to plug in the fairy lights. Immediately, a dim, warm orange light illuminates your room. It’s a subtle brightness that doesn’t hurt your eyes. You watched as Leo looked all around your room, and it didn’t feel real.
You felt like you were dreaming, but you weren’t. You had pinched yourself lightly just to make sure.
When nothing happens, you watch as Leonardo stops at your wall of photos and certificates. Little by little, he was finding out more about you based on where you slept. Your room wasn’t the largest, a simple 10 by 12-foot space. But it fit both you and Leo nicely despite his size.
Speaking of size, Leonardo’s biceps alone were probably larger than your head. Though not intimidating now that you’ve gotten accustomed to his physical body, it still puts into perspective how much taller Leo was. Your head barely reached his shoulder blades.
“You accomplished a lot, I see.” His eyes focused on your degree certificate that sat nicely in a rustic brown picture frame.
"Something like that. It was stressful at times, but worth it in the end." You say, reminiscing about your time in college. You remembered when math began to get involved with cooking in some of your courses. Your brain couldn’t comprehend it most of the time. Despite this, you pushed through.
“It’s impressive…” He gets comfortable in the computer chair you motioned for him to sit in. He sways side to side as his eyes are now focused on you.
“Thank you, Leo.” Leonardo liked the way you said his name. Listening to a new voice saying it was something he was in the process of getting used to.
“So…” Sitting at the edge of your bed, you sit straight up. Leonardo rolls the chair closer to you, your knees almost tapping each other.
“Since you know a lot about me, I think it’s only right that I know a little about you.” You smile softly, hoping Leo would be open to talking to you in this limited amount of time he has with you.
"Well," he accepts. His eyes move around in wonder as he tries to decide where to start. Leonardo never had to talk about himself with anyone other than April, Casey, and Raph’s ex-girlfriend. During introductions, he just went down the timeline of how they came to be what they are today. Rarely did Leo talk about his hobbies or what he liked versus what he didn’t. It was obvious only if you spent time around him.
So, this was pretty new to him.
“Um…” He trails off, unsure of what to say. He really did not know how to begin. More or less where. The more silence went on, the more you looked at Leo for him to speak.
“Am I making you nervous?” You asked, eyes darting to a random wall in your room.
“What? No, I just…” He sighs, “I just don’t know where to start. It’s a lot.”
“Start small,” You suggest, placing a gentle hand on his exposed quad muscle. It was hard to the touch, but the skin in this area was tight. Whatever CrossFit or Pilates this turtle did, he must have taken it seriously.
“How about this,” you stand up, stretching your limbs lightly in the process, “do you like tea?”
“I do.” He smiles, “I’m an avid tea drinker.” His answer opened a potential door for conversation, to which you were set for some tea on this cool evening.
“I’m going to make us a quick cup of tea, and it’ll come to you. I hope you don’t feel like I’m putting you on the spot or anything.” You’re already making your way to the doorway that leads to the living room and kitchen,
“Wanna come with?” You asked. Automatically, Leo stands up from his seat on your chair, standing behind so you can lead the way. “I’d like to.” He wanted to see more of your apartment. Maybe you both had some common interests.
~
You grab two ceramic mugs from the cabinet. One black and the other purple. You fill both with filtered water from the secondary faucet you installed in your kitchen sink. Leo sits in the swivel chair, watching you from the wooden countertop island. He notices the different number of kitchen machinery you have in the transparent 3-shelved gray cabinet next to the fridge. A stand mixer here, a pasta maker there, a blender, a juicer, and a few others that he didn’t recognize enough to name them.
“I have a small box of assorted teas on the counter over there,” you point to your right as your free hand grabs the bottle of clover honey on the shelf above your head. “There’s a decent variety.”
Leonardo gets up to bring it over, setting it down on the island facing you. The box's clear top reveals its contents, and one type of tea piques his interest.
“Honey?” You offer. His attention now on you, he tilts his head slightly as he looks before deciding on his answer.
“Just a drop, please,” He answers, “I don’t really like it too sweet.” His brows furrow slightly, remembering when he tried Donnie’s way of having coffee when they were younger. Spoiler: it was a sugar bomb. Donnie’s sugar intake drastically decreased since then, but it left a bad taste in the leader’s mouth. He did not like sweets.
You grin, “We have something in common, then.” As you put the same small amount of honey in both mugs, your back is turned to Leo, your eyes focused on the microwave buttons. Thanks to science, you’d have two hot mugs of tea within 45 seconds.
“I drink a lot of peppermint, clearly,” gesturing at the section of scarce mint blue Stash peppermint tea bags. It was always your go-to when you’re feeling under the weather.
“I usually drink chamomile or oolong,” He mentions, voice trailing off as his eyes look at the many bags in the box. When he finds a dusty pink tea bag labeled Rose Hibiscus that piqued his interest, he gently takes the pouch out of its place and tears the top open to expose the tea satchel.
Leo’s eyes watched as you began putting the honey and tea box back, immersed in how fluidly you moved despite a large mutant turtle in your apartment. It didn’t faze you, and your body language proved it. You were comfortable around Leo. Albeit his frame alone might intimidate another person, it didn’t intimidate you in the slightest. Once you hear the electronic noise from the microwave, you slowly take both mugs out, the steam hitting your face as you set the white mug down in front of Leo, his fingers holding the paper tag as he submerged the bag at the bottom of the cup. The once-clear water soon turned pale pink, while your own mug held a very distant amber from the honey and peppermint tea bag mixed in.
“Thanks, Y/n.” He blows on his mug softly and steadily, watching as the steam escapes from the top of the mug. The last thing Leo wanted to do was embarrass himself by burning his tongue.
He asked politely if you had any ice cubes he could drop into his tea, to which you nodded and grabbed one for him and one for yourself from the freezer.
Leonardo was very kind. He didn’t put his elbows on your island (though it wouldn’t have bothered you), paid attention to you whenever you spoke so far, and used “please” and “thank you.” To you, he was a gentleman- err- gentleturtle. He was slowly getting comfortable in a new environment, and a conversation over some tea was doing just the trick.
“Not trying to be nosy,” You say before taking a sip of tea, “But who’s Don? You said their name earlier on the roof.”
“My younger brother, Donnie, or Don. Whichever one he prefers.” Your head is tilted slightly as it rests in your palm, listening to Leo attentively.
“Is Donnie like you, too?”
“What do you mean?” He asks, though, he already knew what you meant.
“Is he a mutant turtle, Leo?” You repeat, voice plain. If it wasn’t already obvious what you were asking, am I right?
“He is.” That was all he said, before deciding to share a little more. “I’m the eldest…the leader, if you will.”
“Leader?” This piqued your interest, and Leo sat up tall when you repeated the word he associated with 24/7, his chest puffing slightly. He appeared to be confident in his “leader” role.
“I didn’t take a trip to South America to sip margaritas on the beach, exactly.” You remembered when he mentioned South America the first night you met. But he was vague about his reasons for traveling.
What had he been training for?
Before he could get into that rabbit hole, he noticed your bright eyes looking past him- studying the deadly weapons strapped on his shell.
“Interested?” He inquired, chuckling as your brows furrowed, trying to comprehend why he carried those around.
“It’s not every day you see someone with swords. What do you do with them?”
“Sometimes I throw an apple in the air and cut it up if I’m really bored.” A moment of silence passes before you both erupt in delicate laughter. Leonardo wasn’t used to people laughing at his jabs or terrible jokes, but here you were, giggling before clearing your throat.
You asked him if he used them to save you that night. He nodded before quickly saying he never actually caused permanent damage to anyone before any fear became introduced in that pretty head of yours.
Okay, a little white lie. You weren’t ready to hear about the Shredder. That was a story for if and when you became close and comfortable with one another. If you met his family, sure. Splinter might actually beat him to it- he loved speaking about the past and all their victories.
“What? You think I carry these to impress the ladies, Y/n?” He jokes, motioning toward the swords on his back.
“The swords impressed me, if that’s any consolation.” You grin, eyes focused on the dual pieces of sharp metal behind Leo, to which he chuckles as he shakes his head at your name for his weapon.
“Katanas, actually.” You weren’t used to seeing genuine ninja-looking equipment in the flesh. You were able to study it intensely once Leo unsheathed one for you, and you didn’t dare touch it. It looked old yet was in great condition. And you know how expensive old, yet mint-condition items can be.
“You’re not gonna poke me with that thing, are ya?”
“Well…” He smirks, only for you to gasp dramatically, an offended look on your face, “Kidding, kidding!” He puts his hands up in defense, “but I could make a nice fruit board if you wanted.”
Before beginning the small deep dive into Leo’s life, you could tell you would get along just nicely. By the way, his demeanor was relaxed shoulders, direct eye contact; there were multiple indicators that showed he was open to speaking to you.
~
20 minutes had gone by since the blue mask-wearing mutant terrapin sat down for tea. Leonardo was starting to open up about several things.
He revealed that his main “job” is fighting crime with the skills he learned from his father. His father- who remained unnamed and unidentified- trained his four brothers into the specially trained ninjas they are today. He spoke about when they first began fighting crime at 16.
“I guess we were teenagers who were mutant turtles that also were ninjas.”
“So…teenage mutant…ninja…turtles?” You say, giggling at how ridiculous it sounded. Yet, it could’ve been a pretty cool hero name.
“My youngest brother Mikey came up with that phrase, too, believe it or not…”
He revealed he was the oldest by a mere minute. But he took this minute seriously.
“If I were the first one to walk this Earth, it’s only right I got first dibs on the room I wanted at home.” He says, smirking.
You giggled at how ridiculous it sounded. “You were the first by 60 seconds, Leo.”
“My point still stands.”
He became fluent in Japanese after practicing for 10 years, starting at 15. Only a year ago, he began studying Spanish.
“Could you teach me to say ‘bitch’ in Japanese?”
Leo chuckles, “How about we teach you ‘hello’ first, Y/n.’
Leonardo had a cute laugh. It was light, a little restrained. His snout scrunched up slightly every time you made a joke.
He talked briefly about his training in South America. He revealed he was there to grow stronger and be a better version of himself. He was gone for a full year, longer than intended.
“It sounds lonely. Being isolated for so long.”
“It was,” Leo puts the mug up to his lips, “but I learned a lot about myself.”
“Obviously, I didn’t know you prior, but do you think it made you a better person?” He takes a quiet sip, pondering your question.
“My sensei thinks so.”
“But…” you trailed off, “what do you think, Leo?”
It took a moment for him to answer. Nobody had asked that question. Sure, Splinter said he could tell he had gotten stronger, but he didn’t stop to think about whether he felt that way.
“I think so… I feel different…more mature.” He thinks back to all those times in the jungle. Protecting the village in San Tuma from musty criminals.
“Would you ever want to go back?” You asked, hands lazily wrapped around the mug in front of you. He smirks.
“In a heartbeat.” He shifts in his seat to get more comfortable, “I loved it there. Though my time there was rough, it was such a different scenery compared to the city.” His eyes wandered to the window, where the skyline of Manhattan was visible.
“But, this is my home. I could never leave my family behind.”
You learned Leo was very family-oriented. He spoke highly of his siblings and of his father with the way he described their personalities.
Donnie was extremely bright, yet second-guessed himself at times.
“I wish he saw what I see, you know? He should give himself way more credit for his contributions.”
Mikey was bubbly, a socialite, but didn’t take training seriously most of the time.
“Mikey would’ve revealed himself to you like that,” He snaps his fingers, “But his high hopes sometimes lead to disappointment, and it saddens me.”
Raph- a rebellious spirit, but always had Leo’s back no matter what.
“We didn’t speak for a full three weeks at one point. He told me if I wanted to talk to him, I had to use Donnie or Mikey as the messenger.”
He seemed to have more to say about Raph than the others. Despite Raph’s impulsiveness, he was one of the strongest- if not the strongest member of the team. Their bond was repairing itself after a few conflicts he wouldn’t get into detail about, but he made it a point to mention that he still had respect for the second-eldest brother.
“I take it you’re the glue that holds them all together?” You pondered out loud, and Leonardo gave a gentle smile.
“Something like that.”
You grazed the topic of his hobbies, as you did with your own. Leonardo seemed to enjoy meditating, reading, and practicing kanji. He had a taste for indie music and loved history documentaries. You shared that common interest and suggested that when he had some free time, he would come over to watch one of your favorites.
“I’d like that, Y/n.”
He asks about your own hobbies, and you gladly begin listing them off. Cooking is mentioned last.
“Cooking, obviously. It’s pretty much my life.”
Leonardo frowned before mustering up the courage to tell you his biggest weakness.
“I can’t cook.” He says, admittedly. He couldn’t even look you in the eye when he said it. You- very talented in the one department he could never do anything right in.
“Anything?” You asked. There had to be something Leo knew how to cook!
“Nada.”
“Are you sure? Boiling water counts, too.” You pry, trying to see if Leo was just being dramatic.
He wasn’t. The man can’t cook. At all.
“I’m just a natural kitchen repellent. Everything I touch gets messed up.” You remember what he said earlier about making a nice array of fruits. Unbeknownst to Leo, he most likely possessed knife skills with his katanas. If he got used to using a smaller blade involving food, he’s a step closer to learning how to cook. Which, if you know anything about cooking, was a vital skill to have in the kitchen.
“Leonardo, if you’re good at cutting, you’re good at something cooking-related!” In an instant, Leo’s once saddened eyes became almost puppy-dog-like from hearing you say that (aww, Leo!).
He looks at you, hope-ridden in his gaze, “You think so?”
“I know so! It’s fundamental for cooking.” Suddenly, a lightbulb goes off in your head, “Actually, I have an idea…” Leo takes one final sip of his tea, now lukewarm.
“I could teach you some things I know. Think of it as another payment for saving me that night.” Your mind had wandered to all the things you learned in college, and seeing as Leo felt he wasn’t skilled, it felt only right that you helped him in your own way.
“You would do that for me?” His lips pursed, the ends curling upright into a surprised smile. He was really interested in trying all the food you had the skills to make, but to actually learn how to do it? He was hopeful, ecstatic on the inside. Sure, he’s tried to learn from Mikey in the past, but Mikey wasn’t the best teacher.
---
“Dude, just turn the dial on top until the screen reads three hundred degrees.” Mikey sighed, watching Leonardo dig through the kitchen drawers for the instruction guide for their oven. The orange light brightened the raw chicken sitting in the steel 5-by-5 pan, dripping with the marinade they made together. (Okay, Mikey did that part; Leo was banned after almost putting a quarter cup of salt before Mikey caught him.)
“Okay…” The manual was nowhere to be found, so haphazardly began slowly turning the dial to the temperature Mikey requested.
“What now?” Leo asked, walking over to the couch with Mikey. He was concerned that his orange-masked brother didn’t start a timer.
“We wait, man!” Mikey exclaims, flipping through the TV channels.
“How long? Is there a set time? Anything?”
“You’ll know when it’s done.” That was what Mikey responded with. But this caused Leo to worry. What did that even mean?!
“How will I know, Mikey?” Leo’s worried expression freaked Mikey out. There was nothing to be concerned about!
“You’ll just know, dude. The chicken gods will tell you, or sumthin’ like that.”
Leonardo didn’t learn how to make baked chicken that day. Hell, Mikey didn’t even use the meat thermometer Leo borrowed from April! Was there a magic trick he didn’t know about? Was Mikey pranking him or something?
Unfortunately, Mikey was just naturally a good cook (But shoutout to Martha Stewart and Rachel Ray for teaching him a thing or two back in the day!)
---
“Of course! We do demos all the time for new hires at work, so I know a thing or two about the teaching portion of learning how to cook.”
He accepts gracefully, thinking that this is all some vivid dream. But it’s not. You’re sitting in front of him, real as ever.
~
Once your mugs were almost empty, Leonardo took a peek at his phone. It was late, and he knew he had to get going. You yawned, and he quickly apologized for keeping you up so late.
“Don’t be sorry, Leo. I appreciate you telling me more about yourself.”
His heart flutters with that answer. Who would’ve thought somebody would thank him for yapping away about himself? You offer to take his mug to place in the sink, to which he complies with a grin. You had great hospitality- unlike Casey Jones. Ugh, Casey.
“Thanks for this.” He continues, “I think you’re the first person I've had this long a conversation with in a while.” Leo grins softly before thinking back to his circle of friends and family. Sure, he and Splinter always had deep talks, but that’s not who came to his mind.
For a short time, Karai was the perfect candidate for long talks. When he was stressed out and struggling to be the perfect leader he always tried to be, he vented to Karai. Karai, who was trying to be the perfect daughter and kunoichi Shredder needed her to be. However, some nights would be less talking and more fucking, while other nights were different.
The difference between you and Karai was clear as day, and Leo realized it the second time he stepped into your room, glancing around before he had to exit through the window.
Certificates, awards, photos, stuffed animals, and fairy lights all around the room. Lavender incense you’d started before going outside the roof was burning close to the windowsill, the aroma calming. Your bedroom space exuded a sense of comfort that Leo sought out in the enemy before his training. Funnily enough, your room reflected your aura. It wasn’t hard to talk to you, and you actually took the time to listen; something he appreciated greatly. As you begin opening your window- inviting the cool air to flood your room- Leonardo gets an idea of his own. His fingers reached for his phone, and ironically enough, you followed suit. A mutual understanding that you’d both exchange contact information.
He begins placing his number in. Despite the keyboard's size and his fingers, he pushes through. “If you find yourself in trouble again, you can call me.” He suggests. It warmed your heart that Leo was a sweetheart. He gave you his phone- though it wasn’t one you recognized before. It was a small phone in the shape of a turtle shell, its menu looking fully modded.
‘Donnie, ’ His name echoed in your head. After all, Leo did mention Donnie was always inventing and upgrading anything he could get his hands on.
“You can text or call anytime you like, Leo.” He likes the sound of that and replies with a confident “Same here.” He felt the need to say this, clarifying that you could talk to him for other reasons, not just if you were in danger.
“See you soon?” You honestly didn’t want Leo to go. He was a great conversationalist so far, and there were still so many layers you had to peel back to get to know him better. But, alas, he had to get home, and you definitely needed some sleep in order to be pumped for work tomorrow (err, today, you know what I mean)
“It was nice talking to you, Y/n. I’ll see you soon.” He waves goodbye, body halfway out the window. You couldn’t see it, but Leo hid his cheeky smile from you.
As quickly as Leo entered, he left your home. A familiar silence carried its way throughout your apartment. As tired as you were right now, you imagined how much longer you could’ve spoken to him if he didn’t have to head home. The possibilities of conversation topics appeared endless.
Peering outside, you see Leo’s figure going in the opposite direction. You watched in awe as his silhouette moved with ease, almost with grace, as he jumped from the tops of apartment buildings. You watched until he pretty much faded like a thief in the night.
You flop lazily onto the bed after closing the window, the immediate feeling of exhaustion possessing your body. Getting comfy under the covers, you settled in, snuggling and tightening the quilt around your frame.
Leonardo took his time jumping from rooftop to rooftop to get back home. For the first time since he returned from South America, he felt…refreshed. A new face was something he didn’t know he needed. He anticipated texting you that he got home safe, despite the fact that you’d be asleep by then. You radiated such a different energy from his family and current friends. One that didn’t concern him. You seemed carefree, going through the motions of life on your own terms. You weren’t worried about the next foot clan attack, the Purple Dragons making shady exchanges by the docks, Baxter Stockman cooking up the next weapon of mass destruction, or Karai. You were able to simply exist. And to exist joyfully in a world littered with hate was a difficult thing to achieve. Yet, you were able to do just that. It was a huge difference from how he had lived his life.
Leonardo constantly worried about his family’s safety. Since he became the leader, Leo has always been the responsible one. The one that his brothers relied on. But Leo never took the time to think about himself, which was a big part of why it was so easy for him and Karai to connect. He finally had someone who understood him; someone who would listen and care as she did. But…she was the wrong choice. He understands that now, looking back. He learned his lesson. It was over. And guess what? There was no way in hell he was going back to that- to her.
Besides, talking to you…he enjoyed it. You cared to listen, to understand. Hell, you wanted to see him again. Better yet, you offered to teach him to cook- and everybody knows Leo is royally screwed when it comes to anything kitchen-related.
He already made a mental list of things to ask you for when you begin his lessons. There were some silly questions, but he was going to ask you anyway. Clearly, you weren’t one to judge, and tonight’s events proved it. There was also a separate list for things he really wanted to learn how to make. He would share them with you at the
Jumping down from the fire escape, he eyes the familiar manhole cover before gracefully hopping in, leaving the surface without a trace. Quickly making it back home to an empty living room, he settles in. Not a rat or turtle was stirring.
“Leo?” A hushed voice questioned, startling the eldest brother.
Okay, maybe one turtle was stirring.
“You scared the shell out of me, Donnie!” Leonardo’s quiet voice exclaimed. The second-to-youngest brother chuckles, his magnifying goggles sitting on top of his head. Donnie looked as normal: a cup of coffee in one hand with blueprints for his latest invention in the other. Oh, and don’t forget the bags under his eyes!
“How’d it go?” The brown-eyed turtle asks, heading toward the Keurig machine in the kitchen. Leo’s brows furrowed in confusion, “How’d what go?”
“You know,” Donnie stated. “Know what?!” Leonardo hated when his younger brother was cryptic (how ironic, Leo)
“I can see where you’re at, Leo. Remember, if any of us stay in a location for longer than ten minutes, it’ll get pinged and sent to my computer.” Leonardo didn’t want to keep secrets. Honestly, how could he? There was hard evidence on Donnie’s end regarding his whereabouts tonight.
“Right, how could I forget?” Truth is, it didn’t even cross his mind. Besides, Donatello wasn’t about to go around telling Leo’s business to the rest of the family. He had bar mitzvahs to plan for Cowabunga Carl, for heaven’s sake!
“Since you asked…” Leonardo reminisces about the conversations you both shared tonight. So, he confides in Donnie a bit. He didn’t get too into detail, but the big picture was that you were okay with him being a mutant turtle, and even invited him in for tea!
“She offered to teach me how to cook.” Now in the lab, Donnie froze at his array of computer monitors. Dramatically whipping the chair around, he looks up at his brother with a shocked face. “She’s in for quite the ride with you in that department.” Before the tech whiz could begin chuckling, Leonardo rolled his eyes, arms crossed and defensive.
“I know I’m bad, Don.” Leo states, “But that is a little dramatic.”
“Leo, if I had a dollar for every time you broke a piece of kitchen equipment,” He begins rapidly counting on all six fingers before quickly giving up, “We’d all be on a yacht right now watching Raph and Casey shotgun beers together.”
“Anyway…” Changing the subject, Leo returns to how the overall evening went.
“It sounds like it went well. See? I remember when you used to scold us for talking to humans. Now look at you.” The blue-masked turtle remembers. He would go full-on mom mode anytime his brothers crossed the boundary he was conditioned never to cross. But as the years went on, he grew. He understood why his brothers sought out other humans to talk to. And, from the looks of it, they all had pretty good intuition when it came to which people they decided were trustworthy enough to reveal themselves to (though an extremely small amount.) It took Leonardo a while to realize that.
It warmed his heart to hear that from Donnie. It felt nice to know his younger brother was, in a way, proud of him for his viewpoints on interacting with the human world.
“Hey, since you’re here, I wanted to ask your opinion about something.” Letting out a yawn, Leo’s sleepy eyes stare at his brother’s dark, circled ones.
“What is it?” Leo knew it was rude to ask whether whatever Donnie had to ask could wait until tomorrow morning, but it appeared his brother needed to talk about it with a neutral party.
Donatello turns around, fingers clacking quickly on his primary keyboard until he gets to the news article he wanted to share with Leonardo.
“It’s about the Nightwatcher.”
“Again with him?” Leo asked, clearly annoyed. The first few days of Leo’s return, the Nightwatcher toned down his activity. But for the past week, he’s been regaining his traction. It was barely a hiatus- more like an unnecessarily long smoke break. One thing was for sure: The Nightwatcher was back, and Leonardo was certain where he stood with that guy.
“Hmm.” Leonardo- as tired as he was- indulged Donnie’s opinion. He looks at the photograph taken from the night before by an amateur cameraman (and I do stress amateur). Who was this guy trying to be anyway? Batman?
“He’s a vigilante. Nothing more, nothing less.” Leo stated flatly, “I would hope he minimizes his activity, you know? Since we’re back, we can do things the right way. With honor. Not with…anger.” Leo was an intuitive guy. When Donatello played the short clip and presented the array of photos of the Nightwatchers' work, something was off. Criminals were tied up, hung upside down from railings as a public display of shame before the police arrived. It was sloppy. Messy. That wasn’t Leo’s style of doing things. Sure, criminals should be publicly shamed for what they do, but not like this. This sent a message, for sure, but not one Leonardo could get behind.
The turtles fought crime for honor. For there to be peace in a city where vulnerable people walk about every day. Not to mention, they saved the world from the Triceraton invasion three years ago. They followed Bushido. They had standards. Morals.
Leonardo couldn’t imagine the Nightwatcher having that. Not with what he’s seen so far.
“Hmm. I suppose you’re right. I know you don’t like hearing it, but he did pick up a lot of work when you left. The crime rate significantly dropped, especially around Harlem.”
“Well, I’m back. The team is back.” That was final.
“We are back. And honestly, I’m happy you’re back, Leo. I know I was the unofficial leader while you were gone, but…” Donnie settles in his chair with a deep sigh, “I don’t know how you dealt with Raph before you left, but…if I had hair…I would’ve pulled it out by now.” He whispers quietly, though nobody is awake to hear him.
Leo laughs softly, “A lot of patience, little brother. Remember that term Mikey used? ‘Ragebaiter?’ he’s totally that. And you can never ever give in to that.”
“Regardless, I’m happy I don’t have to be his mom anymore. Still, I am curious to know what he does all night on some days.” Donnie wondered out loud, taking a long sip of coffee before placing it back down on his desk.
“Believe me, Don, I’m also curious,” Leonardo remembered last night. He heard movement coming from Raph’s room and the Lair entrance opening. He had assumed all his brothers were tired from patrol, yet Raph sounded awake. It was unknown what time Raphael returned, but Leonardo wondered if he was rendezvousing with Casey Jones.
Even if they were, why so late in the night?
“Well, I won’t keep you up any longer,” Don smiles, though exhaustion is prominent in his face, “I’ll see you at training in…” Looking at his wrist watch, he scoffs, “5 hours! Ha!” Leo shook his head in disagreement. Donnie’s sleeping habits were erratic, yet Donnie’s routines never changed. He got some naptime on most days, but on others (such as today), he was awake, tinkering away.
“G’night, Donnie. Get some sleep, will you?” Leo pleads, though Donnie brushes him off.
“I’ll think about it.” That was the best Leo was going to get out of his little brother right now.
Closing the door behind him quietly, the leader in blue makes his way toward the end of the hall- where his bedroom lies.
It was just as he left it before he went topside. Lights off, bed made, air purifier running (even strong mutant turtle leaders get stuffy noses). He tiredly takes his gear off, yet he puts it back in its rightful place. Leonardo was all about organization and cleanliness.
Getting under the covers, he places his mask, folded neatly, onto his nightstand. Rubbing his brown eyes, he lay on his right side, facing the door. All in all, Leonardo had a great experience talking to his first stranger. Though you weren’t really strangers anymore.
Y/n.
Your name seemed to echo in his head, along with your face, staring at him. He decided to pay you a visit in a few days. He needed time to search into this Nightwatcher character.
Unbeknownst to Leo, the Nightwatcher was right under his nose.
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It took Leonardo two weeks to finally get over himself and visit your window again.
A bit dramatic, perhaps. The reason why he took so long to do so was simple: he still didn’t know your personal life, just your work and address, which felt insufficient.
He didn’t want to admit it, but he wanted to visit you again. Yes, a majority of the reason was that he enjoyed what you gifted him the first time he graced his presence on your rooftop. Another one is to check up on you after the incident in the alley, just to make sure you weren’t being followed or watched.
However, a small reason (he’ll take this to the grave) was that he had become curious about you. He wanted to understand your life. What type of person were you? What made you…well, you; and let’s be very honest here, it wasn’t every day a human gave him free food (if you exclude Murakami).
Much like Donatello, Leonardo was intrigued with humans. Their ability to love, fight, and unionize when it was needed. In fact, he was infatuated with American history. The Civil Rights Movement, the American Revolution, you name it. Although times in the past were dark, humans from the beginning of time had one thing in common: they would stand for something they believed in, and that’s what he admired the most.
Anyway, back to Leo’s situation:
Leonardo is notorious among the team for being wary of humans. Being a leader meant he had to keep a guard up. To stick to the shadows. But he learned his lesson early on by taking this to the extreme.
Contrary to popular belief, he hadn't liked April or Casey at first. He often wondered what really kept them around. April owed the turtles her life after they saved her from the Purple Dragons, but Leonardo never understood why she insisted on befriending them all those years ago.
Donatello played a big part in getting to know April O’Neil. And, no, it’s (totally) not because he had a fat crush on her (who said that? Totally not true!) As stated earlier, Donnie and Leo liked to learn about what humans did in their lives. Not only that, but being a scientist's daughter (rest in peace, Mr. O’Neil, you were the coolest microbiologist New York City has ever known) meant that Donnie and April had a lot of common interests. After seeing how well the pair got along, Leonardo wondered what made April stay around them.
“Because, Leo, you all live such an interesting and exciting life.”
He remembered those words from the day they brought her down to meet Splinter. Leo was basically interrogating her as to why she was so eager to meet his father, and she finally told him (after being mildly offended that he was asking her so many questions). And after seeing how open Master Splinter was with April, he concluded that she was harmless. Leonardo gained a lot of respect for April that day; she was just so sweet and caring to him and his family that he felt like absolute garbage for the way he treated her in the beginning.
Casey Jones, though?
A horror story.
Teenage Casey was truly a hoot and a holler. He was a bad boy in high school, and April jokes that he peaked there as well (he 100% did by the way.) He was a fighter (never a bully, I guess you could compare him to the hot cheeto girls in high school. Really sweet, would punch a bitch in the face in a heartbeat if they saw any kind of bullying going on.) But, Casey Jones was not “sweet.” He and April became intertwined when she was forced to tutor him in trigonometry in his senior year, and she ultimately saved him from having to repeat a grade.
So how did Casey Jones become intertwined with the Hamato Family, you may ask?
Actually, it was because of Casey Jones himself. Long story short, he had followed (Raph likes to use the word “stalk” which earns him a shove from his BFFL) April to the Lair one day. After the tutoring was over and they graduated from high school, they had become friends by the end of it all. Yet, something was off about April, and he noticed the more they hung out. She didn’t have a lot of friends, had a weird-looking cell phone in the shape of a turtle shell, was always busy doing god knows what, and always preferred to walk home alone, no matter what.
With all this mystery surrounding April, Casey finally found April’s big secret on a chilly February night.
---
“M…m…mut…mutan-” “Jesus, spit it out already!” Raphael puts the black-haired intruder into a headlock, stopping him from running away.
“Casey! Did you freaking follow me?!” A young April screams, hitting him upside the head. She took all the precautions when she went into the sewer- she checked her surroundings, made sure nobody was around, and finally jumped inside. Though a little grossed out, Casey emerged from a nearby dumpster in the alleyway that April unknowingly led him to, and decided whatever she was hiding, he was going to find out tonight what it was.
He wasn’t expecting this.
“Ow! No!”
“He’s stalkin’ ya. April’s got a stalkah,” an 18-year-old Raphael mused, ceasing his laughing along with Mikey and Donnie when he received a glare from the ginger.
“I wasn’t stalking, now let me go!” Casey struggled, but Raphael’s grip was so tight that he wasn’t going anywhere until they all got some answers.
“Who’s this?” A new voice questioned. Emerging from the dojo, an 18-year-old Leonardo appeared. His brown eyes were shooting glares at the man currently holding Raphael’s leg so he could break free.
“This is my friend, Casey…” As April explained what was going on, Leonardo allowed Raphael to let the boy known as Casey be released.
“Casey.” Leo deadpanned.
“Casey Jones,” the new human corrects, “actually.”
“Did I ask?”
“Ooh, dude! Burn!” Mikey instigates, taking a seat on the couch to watch the show in front of him with Raph. It seemed they were making quite a ruckus, and in the middle of going back and forth, Casey Jones laid eyes on a large, human-sized rat brushing his beard in curiosity.
“Who is this, my sons?”
---
Casey passed out five times that day within one hour. He was scared of rats, and seeing Master Splinter really sparked this fear.
After he awoke the fifth time and Splinter made sure to stand 15 feet away at all times (Casey Jones did not play about his fear of rodents), the family concluded that much like April, he was harmless. Blunt, crude, reckless, but harmless.
With that description in mind, you could imagine how he and Raphael grew to be so close.
With promises to keep them a secret and threats from Leo if he broke that promise, the turtles gained their second friend.
With all of this reminiscing in mind, one thing was for certain: He had to be sure you were harmless.
So, he observed.
---
“Y/n, I need you to go across the street to the store.” You turn around, seemingly snapped out of your basil-cutting trance by Chef Nick. Your hands continue the task despite your focus no longer on the cutting board.
Yeah, you were just that good (pat yourself on the back, miss Y/n!)
“Oh? What am I getting?” You glided your finger on the blade of your knife, cleaning off the excess herb that stuck to it.
“About six bags of flour. I need them like yesterday.” That was your cue to abandon the S.S Basil and start hauling ass to the store.
Placing your apron under the prep table, you smiled as you got your coat. Although it had to be quick, you were finally getting some fresh air during a busy night. “Be right back, Chef!”
“Nice chiffonade, by the way.”
Unbeknownst to you, eyes were on you with each step you took to the store. Albeit late into the night, the moon and street lights help illuminate the area.
===
Leonardo watched as you ran out of the restaurant through the back door, black chef coat stained with small marks from the sauce. He wasn’t sure exactly what your job title was, but he knew that it was a major part of your life. For the past few days, up until today, he had watched you happily take the same walk from your apartment to work. Although far away, he noticed the prominent smile on your face every time you did so. He picked up on your punctuality; how, no matter what the circumstances, you always made it to work 10 minutes before you were supposed to start. It was something about your timeliness that Leonardo admired. You were a clear contrast to Casey’s “I’ll get there when I get there” persona and April’s “If I’m not at work an hour before my shift, I’m basically fired” one. You reminded him of himself in a way. Always on time, positive. Confident in your craft, he watched you through the window that looked into the kitchen. You were able to make everyone around you comfortable when it was time to get to work. He watched on many nights how you interacted with your coworkers outside, making them smile right after venting about the horrible service.
That was something he could respect about you.
In the present moment, despite being covered in sauce and your hair scrunched up into a hairnet that made you look like a lunch lady, Leonardo saw the subtle beauty you displayed effortlessly beyond your work appearance.
After that night, he would begin to properly observe once he got the hang of your schedule.
You left home at 2:30PM to make it to work at 2:50PM, noting the consistent 10-minute grace period you gave yourself, and didn’t leave until around 11-11:30PM.
This schedule ironically aligned perfectly with his patrol schedule. Group patrol began around 9PM.
Solo patrol started at 11PM and didn’t finish until 12:30AM.
Regrouping was at 1:30AM on the dot.
Leonardo made sure the schedule was packed, and there was always something to do during those time frames.
One thing that was prominent during his watchful eye on you was your tendency to linger on the rooftop of your apartment building consistently every night. It must’ve been a new habit, because he doesn’t recall someone ever sitting on the ledge of your building, let alone you. He watched from afar. He watched from three buildings away as you kicked your feet along the ledge, happily dangling. It appeared that you were simply people-watching at first. However, he quickly noticed that wasn’t the case. You sat idly, yet your eyes- hopeful as they could be- constantly moved and diverted toward your surroundings at eye level rather than down below. You were looking for something. Someone, maybe.
Was it him?
He always came toward the end of your time on the roof, watching as you took looks in all directions. The hopefulness leaving your eyes as you finally give up and head inside through your open window.
He felt a little guilty.
Something in him wanted to spark up a conversation with you. To wonder just why you were sitting out in the cold every night. You were bound to get sick that way. I know what you’re thinking- Leo should be thinking like that about himself. He’s cold-blooded, obviously. However, to combat this problem in the colder months, they all wore fuzzy sweatshirts to keep themselves warm.
Courtesy of Raphael’s knitting and Donatello’s constant nagging of medical facts about turtles.
Speaking of Donnie…
Donatello was the first of Leo’s brothers to know about your existence.
Much like the humans they’ve saved in the past who caught a glimpse of the brothers by pure chance or who they had spoken face to face, it was a rule that Donatello would complete a background check on them. It was purely for their safety as well as the Hamato family’s. To make sure they weren’t affiliated with a certain clan with a foot as the logo, and to make sure that in the days that followed, the human in question remained safe and sound.
Leonardo watched for a little longer than a few days. He was on week two now, bordering on week three.
When it came time to ask Donnie to do an internet check on you the next day, Leonardo found himself looking forward to asking. He was intrigued with you, your seemingly dull life so full of wondrous color.
---
“Donnie?” Leo called out into the Lair. Raphael was with Mikey in the living room, and Leo could overhear them arguing over who had to sit with Splinter for the next episode of Real Housewives of Orange County.
“Dude, I just watched Golden Girls with him yesterday morning. No way!!”
“Mikey, I’m beggin’ here.” The red-banded turtle groaned. He had plans of hanging with Casey later on today, and wanted to get a workout in before he left.
“No can do, brochacho.” Mikey stood his ground, smiling evilly as he heard soft hums coming from the dojo.
“Raphael! Will you be watching the newest episode of Real Housewives with me today?”
The second-eldest brother’s eyes narrowed at Mikey, but softened as he turned to Splinter with a half-smile.
“Y-yeah, I am Splintah.”
Don’t tell Mikey, but reality TV was Raph’s guilty pleasure. It was always the alternative if wrestling or CSI wasn’t airing at the time of watching.
‘You’re so dead,’ Raphael mouths to Mikey. However, watching Splinter sit down next to him with his beady eyes riddled with pure happiness to spend time with his son was something that made this whole thing worth it.
“I’m in here, Leo!” Another voice calls out, muffled from behind the closed door to the lab. Leonardo knew he’d be asking a big favor from his younger brother. But, knowing how quickly Donnie gets bored and constantly needs enrichment (Raph compares him to a hamster), he knew the tech-savvy turtle would be anything but upset at his request.
Opening up the door to the lab, Leo’s eyes land on the back of Donnie’s shell, his purple bandana tails lie on top, the knot in his mask holding it all together. Numerous in-progress and completed inventions littered around (give Donnie some credit, he likes to keep himself busy), along with a small surgical instrument table where four vials of mutagen sat in their holster. His two medical beds were made up nicely, the white sheets tucked in tightly with such uniformity.
“Hey, Don, whatcha doing?” Leo greets, grabbing the nearby black computer chair and wheeling his way to sit on Donnie’s left side.
“Hmm? Oh, just working on renewing my I.T certification.” The brother responds, his brown eyes not leaving the main screen in front of his face. His fingers clacked rapidly on his keyboard, logging into his account on DeVry.
“I know what you’re thinking, Leo. And no, I’m not looking for another job. Just a side hustle. Something-” “Let me guess, to keep you busy?” Leonardo mused, finishing his brother’s sentence.
“Yeah, between this and getting Mikey some more Cowabunga Carl gigs. We’re going to offer our services for bat mitzvah’s now in addition to birthdays.”
“Mazel tov. Just make sure not to overschedule Mikey too much,” Leo jokes, “those little kids show no mercy on him.”
“You got it.” After logging in, Donnie sees a list of pending tasks he must complete before his renewal. “So, what can I do for you, Leo?” Finally, he turns to face his older brother. Leonardo notes the slight dark circles under Donnie’s eyes, his aviator-style eyeglasses complementing his face.
“Remember a few days ago during patrol? We went solo, and I saved a girl from some guys?” Leo asks, jogging Donnie’s memory.
“Oh, yes,” He smiles. “What about it?”
“Can you keep this between us? It’s nothing bad.”
“Leo,” Donnie starts, “I’m all for secrets.”
~
After a few minutes explaining his situation, it ends in Donnie giggling.
“Just so we’re clear,” The younger brother stifles a laugh, “You want me to do a background check on her, right?”
“Right.” Leo deadpans, mildly offended that Donnie was getting a kick out of it.
“To make sure she’s safe, right?”
“Right.”
“And to learn a little about her, right?”
“Right.”
“And because she’s a good cook who gave you free food, right?”
“Right. Wait. No! Look, Donnie, wha-""And because you’re interested in her, right?” He muses.
“I wouldn’t say…” Before his brain fixed his mouth up to deny, his heart stopped him from doing so. He was interested in what you did with your life, but not in a creepy stalker way. He was so used to Casey and April’s lives, but they were vastly different from what your life appeared to be.
“Yeah. Interested.” He corrects himself, earning a smile from Donatello.
“I think it’s rather adorable. Admitting is the first step, you know,” His younger brother jokes. Leo rolls his eyes in response, nudging Donnie’s shoulder.
“Okay, do you know her first and last name?” Donatello opens up a new tab on his browser, one that was certainly not Google or Microsoft Edge. He uses his mouse to drag it onto his secondary computer monitor, which sat in front of Leo.
“Y/n L/n.”
“Do you remember anything from her I.D card? Date of birth, address maybe?” Donnie continues typing away, filling in the blanks on the government database that Leo has no idea how he got access to.
“I remember her address and only the month of her birthday. It was…237 Henry Street, apartment fifteen B. The month is B/M.” The purple-masked turtle continues filling out the information, staring at the screen as he does so. After a few more moments of typing away, his mouse hovers over the submit button before letting the database search for anything in relation to you.
“Huh, look. Is this her?” A number of files came up, one being a lease agreement you signed for your apartment, and one for your completed passport form.
Once Donatello clicks the passport file, your photo and passport information fill up the screen.
“Yeah, that’s her.” He instantly recognizes your face, a stark contrast from what you looked like in your work attire when he saw you last night.
“If you give me a moment here, I can do some detective work and give you a description. How thorough?”
“Not borderline FBI agent thorough,” Leo suggests, your digital photo looking back at him, “just a simple biography.”
“So you don’t want to know her blood type? If she got her tuberculosis vaccine?” Donnie asks. He was now opening up a number of tabs as he searched for your name on the Google search engine. Leo sighs at his brother. How would he even get that information, anyway?
“No, Donnie,” the eldest sighs, “I don’t want to know if she’s up to date on her shots. Jesus, she’s not a pet.”
“Bark.”
“Did…” Leo shoots a puzzled look at Donatello, “Did you just bark at me?”
“Moving right along…” Ignoring his brother’s question, Donatello continues scavenging the internet. To make it go by faster, Donatello suggested Leo come back in about 10 minutes so he can focus. In those 10 minutes, Leonardo searched the cabinet to find a thank-you treat for Donnie- blueberry Pop-Tarts.
He didn’t dare put them in the toaster. That would be another project for his brother to fix.
He spent a few minutes on the couch, watching as Raph and Splinter gossiped about the Real Housewives, but he didn’t understand a single word regarding the show in conversation without any context.
Once the purple-banded turtle finished and he was able to type out his findings in his notes extension, he called Leonardo back to his lab to go over them.
~
“Y/n L/n. She seems to work full-time at Hudson Grille as a lead chef after a recent promotion. She lives alone. Her parents are still alive and live in Pennsylvania. She graduated magna cum laude from the Bethlehem Culinary Academy with a bachelor's in culinary arts and a minor in hospitality.”
Donnie fixes his posture, facing Leo, “For reference, Bethlehem’s is similar to the Culinary Institute we have in New York.”
“Interesting.” Leo compliments, shifting in his chair.
“If you ask me, it’s a pretty impressive background. She must’ve worked very hard to maintain a high grade point average.” Donnie compliments, making sure to emphasize to Leo that you were smart and your credentials highlighted this.
“Her ethnic background is e/t. And…it looks like she’s never traveled anywhere outside of the country, according to her passport.” Leonardo frowns at this. Sure, he only left the country once for a year, but it was the best year of his life. He wondered what was holding you back.
“I grabbed a few photos from the college website in case you wanted to make sure it was legit. Here’s a few of her on her graduation day, standing next to what looks like her parents and some of her classmates.” Leonardo scrolls through your graduation photos, the one of you and your parents visibly proud put a smile on his face. Your parents were smushing you in a group hug, your graduation cap on the verge of falling and the tassel in your face. Despite this, you flashed a toothy smile at the camera, obviously happy for this major life event.
“Here are some off-guard photos on the Hudson Grille website in their staff directory. There are also small bios for each staff member. See? Here’s her headshot and description.” He saw your profile photo, your e/c, and your smile gleaming back at the camera. Your written description was bubbly, your personality shining through as you spoke of your education and things you enjoyed to do in your spare time (though a limited amount), your obvious love for your culinary background shining through. It appeared that you were passionate about what you did every day at work, despite how visibly stressed Leo remembers you looking the first night he saw you.
“You’d be perfect for each other.” Donatello imagines out loud, “I mean, she’s obviously a great cook. You, on the other hand, can’t cook to save your li-“ “Okay, Donnie! Thanks for your help.” Leo loudly cuts his brother off, choosing not to get berated for his lack of skills in the kitchen.
“She seems nice. Hey, if you ever go back to talk to her, I’d like to try some of this food she makes.”
Leonardo gave a half-smile to his brother before bidding him a good day. He whistles at Donnie from the doorway, tossing him an aluminum package once he gets his attention.
“Eat it before Mikey does.” He suggested. His little brother smirks in response.
“Over my dead body.” Mikey wasn’t getting a taste of artificial flavors and high fructose corn syrup today.
As mentioned earlier, a relationship with you didn’t cross Leo’s mind, yet Donnie seemed to be a self-proclaimed fortune teller when he mentioned you’d be perfect for one another. But who was he kidding? Leonardo was a giant 6”3’ mutant turtle. He knew you wouldn’t exactly jump for joy if you ever saw what he really looked like.
He wondered how lucky Donatello got with April all those years ago. That component alone paved the way for Donatello to steal April’s heart.
That component was vital: It began with understanding the unfamiliar.
---
After a decent amount of searching from Donnie’s end, Leo concluded you were harmless. You worked long hours in the evening, had normal friends and coworkers, and nothing about your life struck Leonardo as alarming or out of the ordinary.
So, when he decided to go over and leave a letter at your window the next night, he was expecting you to be there. Waiting.
Waiting for him, it seemed.
===
~
“Y/n.” Leo’s voice was low, almost vibrating your core the closer he got to you. Your name appeared to roll off his tongue with such ease, as if it was something he was more than comfortable saying; something familiar.
“Yes?” You smiled, yet smiled back at nothing. A muscular silhouette of a man.
“I…I wanted to show you something,” His voice rumbled back. You could feel his arms ghosting around you, engulfing you in an embrace to which you gladly relaxed into. You were secure, comfortable, and so willing. His broad shoulders, although unable to be seen and only felt, gave you a sense of shelter. Something you’d want to go home to every night.
“What’s that?” Your head perked up in interest, wondering what exactly Leo was referring to.
It always ended the same way.
“Me. If…if that’s what you’d like.” He sounded so sincere, yet nervous all the same. Despite this, his embrace never faltered. His breathing was steady, although deep from anxiousness. His silhouette is outlined with a subtle baby blue hue. Yesterday’s dream had been royal blue; the other night was cerulean.
The outline of something on his back brought you to the very first night you saw him. Yet, it was unidentifiable. It’s feeling nostalgic; something that you knew you’d recognize, but couldn’t put your finger on it.
Once you looked up, he immediately disappeared without a trace. The only thing engulfing you is the New York City air, with nothing but hums from the steady traffic down below.
It always ended this way.
~
“Ugh, my head.” You groan, rolling in your bed with annoyance as you look at the digital clock on your nightstand. 12:55AM. Curse your circadian rhythm and evening naps! You had been taking naps late in the evening before. But now? You were waking up from the same dream you had on some days. Sometimes you dreamt about work (more like nightmares), sometimes about Leo, sometimes about fairies. Clearly, there was a variety. For the past week and change, Leo’s mysteriousness had barged in and taken over your mind as you slept. He had just left you with so many questions the last time you spoke to him that you were curious for more. Only, he hasn’t shown up for about two weeks. You wondered if you’d be able to seek him out; catch a glimpse of him just to remind yourself he’s real.
It was probably too far of a gamble, but you decided that you were going to spend 30 minutes on the rooftop every night. However, this time limit really wasn’t followed. Five days out of the week, you spent an hour, and the others around 45 minutes. When you first moved in, you were consistent with spending time reading, using your laptop, or doodling during the summer outside your window. You’d spend a couple of hours in the evening doing so when you had an evening off from work.
Now, however, you simply sat outside on the ledge. Not to do anything, just people watch for the most part. You also had a sliver of hope that you would catch a glimpse of Leo again. Though, since you started doing this rooftop thing, and the results did not make you satisfied… Still, you persisted. You waited for a miracle.
Maybe, just maybe, Leo would actually talk to you instead of observing you from afar.
How dumb did Leo think you were? It only takes natural human instinct to know when you’re being watched. Although he remained dormant and kept his distance, you noticed the same silhouette remaining still with idleness; you saw the first night begin to observe you.
However, you didn’t want that. You wanted him to come and speak to you. You also wanted your Tupperware back. You didn’t outwardly confront him, for fear he’d turn from you because of it. But your patience and anticipation were both overlapping each other, both wearing thin as the nights went on.
You get up to stretch, immediately shuffling to your closet in search of a heavy sweater. You settled on your heather grey one. Though visibly worn, it still held true to what it promised when you first bought it: Insulating and moisture-wicking fabric. You grabbed the matching flare sweatpants that came in tandem with it. Taking the baby blue blanket from your computer chair, you open your window- the same way you did every night.
It was a chilly night. January was nearing an end, and soon February would take its place. In all honesty, a change in the temperature is just what you needed. Perhaps when you gather enough city sick hours, a short three-day vacation could ensue with your friends from college you kept in touch with.
As you made your way to sit on the ledge, you wrapped your fuzzy blanket around you for warmth. Your feet are protected by pink fuzzy socks and equally pink bunny slippers. Your feet always dangled the same: Contently. Hopeful. Anxious. A few minutes went by, and as you began looking from left to right above the rooftop, there was no sight of Leo. It worried you; did you somehow scare him away? Did you weird him out by sitting on the rooftop waiting for him? Did he even catch on to that it was because of him?
“You’re gonna catch a cold like that.” You whip your head around, loose strands of hair flowing in your face as you do so. The voice- all too familiar- was behind you on the rooftop. It was elevated in volume just enough for you to hear, and you automatically walked over to the source.
You stood your ground, arms folded passively in front of the AC unit. But this time, he presented himself differently. He stands half in shadow, half in the moon’s soft white glow. Broad shoulders. A large silhouette of muscles that appeared to be perfectly sculpted. A blue fabric flowed behind him whenever the wind decided to gust. Blue is a prominent color in your dreams.
And some kind of mask hiding everything but his eyes.
Brown. Brown eyes.
Soft yet captivating chestnut eyes. Eyes that looked back at your own, studying you.
Getting comfortable with his eyes exploring e/c ones for the first time.
“You’re not slick, you know.” You remark, glancing at the crescent moon in the sky, “I know you’ve been watching.”
“Observing.” He corrects, voice at a simmer. He noticed he kept your distance from where he stood, as if you already knew he would say something if you got too close.
“Tomato, tomato.”
Silence was now the contender between the two of you. The subtle wind brushes past your face. Despite the temperature being 45 degrees, it felt like 50 with all the pollution from the city activity.
“You’re risking a cold for me.” He states.
“See how I’m dressed?” You motion to your body, “I’m bundled up.”
Leo sighs and tries again, “It’s dangerous to be up here alone.” You see him shift in posture, “You never know what could be around.”
“I’m never here alone,” you comment, “am I?”
“No.” He mutters, “You’re not.” You knew he was there. Always. You take a seat on the concrete, the blanket providing some cushion for your bottom. Leo’s silhouette remains still, as if he’s still trying to get comfortable with talking to you in such close proximity. His eyes never left your form. You’d manage to give a response for all his worries regarding you being outside. You didn’t care about the cold, it was nothing but a state of mind for you. If it meant you’d be able to see even a flash of Leo again, you were more than willing to stay outside for a while.
“I don’t typically do this,” He says, tall stance still the same. He’d decided. You were persistent. And he knew what happens when he encounters persistent people of yours and April’s caliber.
There was nothing but an ache to know about the unfamiliar. The extraordinary. Unique. But, you didn’t truly know what made Leo unique.
“Watch people?” You remark. Leo chuckles, eyelids creasing as he does so.
“Observe. And, no. Not as prolonged as with you.” The last part of his sentence struck your core. What was it about you that caused Leo to watch over you? He wasn’t some guardian angel.
To your knowledge, he was just a guy who saved you, sticking to the shadows like gorilla glue for unknown reasons.
“Why me?” You question, eyes going back to Leo. “Why observe me?”
“To make sure whether you’re safe.” It seemed like a valid answer to your question, but he also mentioned he never watched anyone this long. What about you made you different from the rest? It made you feel special, yes. But it left you with an uncertainty that made you put your guard up a little.
“And?” You remark, “There has to be something else, Leo.” His name rolled off your tongue with such ease. You didn’t forget what his name was. He pauses, unsure of how to answer without crossing a boundary he tried to never cross.
Don’t get close.
They won’t understand.
Casey and April are exceptions, not normalcy.
Leonardo always tried to follow this. His brothers, on the other hand, did not. For God’s sake, Raphael even managed to have a girlfriend for a while before her parents decided to move out of the country about 5 years ago. She had to go; she had no choice.
Long distance wasn’t going to work, and they both knew this. Physical touch is Raphael’s love language.
He won’t admit it, but he still thinks about her from time to time.
Leonardo wondered. How could a human love and care for a mutant? The way Raphael’s girlfriend at the time was so accepting, and loved every part of him. Adding on that Donnie and April are now together, it gave Leonardo a sliver of hope for his brothers.
Growing up, Master Splinter was strict about contact with humans. His sons were still sloppy in the stealth department at age 16. They were bound to make mistakes. However, as time went on, his ideology shifted.
“Take a chance, my sons. A safe one. But most importantly, make sure they accept you for what you are.”
Acceptance.
A word that was thrown around for years in the Hamato household. Back in the day, he felt in his heart that Karai accepted him. But, despite the intimacy they shared, a vendetta meant more to Karai than whatever relationship she had with him. Perhaps Leo was blinded by lust, a feeling so foreign to him that as soon as it was in his grasp, he held tightly.
Acceptance.
Mikey was so easy-going and was a people person. He did most of the talking when it came to calming people down if they had no choice but to reveal themselves. Leonardo set the expectations, Raphael was there just in case they refused, and Donatello made sure they were keeping up with the agreement in the days that followed.
It slightly envied the others how easily Mikey got along with humans. A social butterfly, if you will.
Leo wasn’t truly envious, just a little jealous. He always expected the worst when interacting with humans, yet you didn’t appear to be scared.
You seemed to be…understanding.
Maybe even accepting.
After a long pause, Leo swallows, “I was interested in what your life was like.”
“Mine? It’s not exactly a party every day.” You joke, and you were right. At least, from your perspective.
You rarely went out to have fun. Once in a blue your friends would all be available to hang out together, and those moments were eventful. Other than that, you went to work, ran errands, took yourself on dates when you had the time, and went home.
“It’s different from mine.” He admits.
“How so?”
“It just…is.” Leo sees the look of slight irritation in your eyes.
“Are you always this cryptic?” You ask. He shakes his head.
“No,” He reveals, “Just when I need to be.”
You didn’t like that response so much. And, since you finally had him up here, it was only right that you got some answers.
“Hmm,” You place a confident hand on your hip and tilt your head, “Why do you hide yourself from me, then?”
“You wouldn’t like what you see.” Suddenly, your stance falters, solace plastered on your face. What made Leo think this way, exactly? Was he concerned with his appearance? Did he think you were shallow, or something?
“What makes you think that?” You question, slightly hurt. “You didn’t even give me a chance.”
You were right, and Leo knew that.
“I just…don’t think you’d understand…but…I don’t know.” He sighs defeatedly. You wanted to be mad at him. He didn’t even know you but yet, made all these assumptions. Whatever he had to hide, it must’ve been dire.
“You don’t know me as a person,” You mumble, loud enough for Leo to hear.
“You don’t know me, either, Y/n.” He says softly. It was the first time he said your name throughout this conversation, yet your name in his mouth was welcomed with a smile.
You liked the way it sounded when he said it.
“And yet, I’m up here talking to you.” Your lips form into a small smile. “I want to get to know you.”
“Persistent, are you?” He implies an unseen smirk towards you on his face.
“You got me.” You admit defeat jokingly. “Is there something wrong with that?”
“No. You remind me of a friend.” Leo’s voice is at a normal volume, “she’s persistent, too.”
“Does she understand you, Leo?” A pause from Leo’s end follows before he forms his next sentence.
“She does.”
“You might not know me, but know this: what you look like doesn’t make or break how I might feel about you.”
“Feel about me?” Leo questions, “How do you feel about me?”
“I…I don’t know, Leo.” You declare, standing and looking him into his soft eyes. “I want to get to know you. You pique my interest.”
Leo’s eyes finally divert from your own, his attention going to his left side. “I was going to leave a letter for you at your window,” You hear the sound of paper shuffling about in his hands as he digs in his pocket, “In case I didn’t see you tonight.” He felt silly for admitting this, yet did anyway.
“How Romeo of you,” You smiled at him.
You hoped he did the same.
“So, what’s it say?” Leonardo didn’t write much, just that he liked what you cooked, and how he hoped you were doing okay. He also wrote a little request about getting another taste of your food if you were willing.
“I even put a smiley face at the bottom,” He shakes his head at his past self. Yet, he couldn’t help but think that was the nicest way to end his letter to you.
“I would’ve written one back, you know.” Admitting this wasn’t hard. He saw that. You didn’t stop to think, didn’t second-guess your choice to tell him this.
“But, I don’t give food to shadows.” You meant it in a lighthearted way, yet your true intention of the comment is prominent, and Leo picked up on that.
“You did once.” Well, he’s not wrong. But he knew what you meant. You wanted to see him. You wanted him to step into the subtle night light. He wasn’t getting any food until he did so.
“I’d like to see you, Leo. Not just some silhouette or mystery man.”
When he didn’t say anything, you were close to giving up.
“Take a chance on me, will you?” Now pleading, your eyes glimmered with faith as Leonardo looked straight into them. He saw nothing else but faith. Desire. A desire to know the unknown.
A chance, huh?
He knew about those. It’s what Splinter told them. But acceptance followed right behind chance.
After a long wave of silence, he finishes contemplating in his head. Battling both his mind and heart at the same time.
Things were different since he came back from his prolonged training. His beliefs are different, his views are different.
He was different.
He…changed. Isolation could do a lot to a person, let alone someone meant to lead a pack. He craved human interaction at times. Longing for someone to talk to, someone who could understand him. Someone to open up to.
In time, he felt himself become more open.
Maybe he could be more open with you.
Standing up tall, he sighs deeply. His brother’s voices echoing through his head as he made up his mind to give you what you asked for in real time.
‘Dude, the worst they can do is scream! And we got Raph to knock 'em out!’
Leonardo did not have Raph right now, Mikey. And putting his hands on you didn’t even cross his mind.
‘Six in every ten humans we’ve encountered have passed out. Which seems like a lot, but it’s a normal flight reaction.’
Not the time for statistics, Donnie.
‘The worst they can do is call ya ugly. We know Mikey’s ugly, so we’re all just ugly by association.’
That last memory from Raph made Leo chuckle mentally. Raph was always a “Too bad so sad” kind of guy. Despite the differences both brothers had for one another, Leo admired that trait Raph possessed. Though it took a lot of growth and maturity, Raphael learned not to hold grudges against his family and two close friends.
He learned to give people a second chance.
Leonardo wondered if Raphael would give you a chance.
When a definitive “most likely” came to his mind, he thought about his other two brothers.
They would give you a chance, Mikey especially.
The last of his brothers he thought about was himself.
Would he give you a chance?
His answer becomes solidified after moments of mental backflips. His breathing- deep and measured-mirrors his physical body. You were more than willing to understand him.
And if you were willing to do that, he’d give you a chance.
But as he begins to take a step forward, he hesitates.
“I don’t want to freak you out or anything like that.” He thinks he can’t do it. Second-guessing himself in real time. Your gaze, soft as ever, becomes one he can’t ignore.
One of optimism. Of yearning for the unknown.
“You won’t,” You reassure, rewrapping your blanket around your body.
“I would be wrong if I freaked out over your appearance, Leo.” Your eyes look directly into Leo’s brown ones, trying to tell him through your eyes that you were genuine. He didn’t have to make this reveal so grand, let alone keep you antsy while you waited to see what he looks like.
He takes another step, only this time, your kind words fuel him to continue on.
//
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hiiii sorry if this may seem weird but do you think you can do TMNT 2007 x sister reader but not as a love thing I thought it will be what it’s like for the ninja turtles Leo raph donnie and mikey to have a little sister who’s also a ninja as well and how would they treat her^^
Not weird at all! Let me know what you think!
TMNT 2007 Headcanons: Being their little sister!
They would all adore having a sister btw
Even though you're human, you're still like family to them
knowing them prior makes the moving in thing a lot easier, too. You weren't a stranger, you were a friend
Splinter makes the executive decision to open their home up to you with the option of staying as long as you needed. If college wasn't already bad enough, you had seen some...things you weren't supposed to see and got caught up with the wrong group of people
The wrong group just so happened to be the Foot Clan.
You had been coming home from class one evening and ended up witnessing a business deal by the docs near the river by your campus
which by the way you had no business seeing
god forbid a girl wants to see the polluted river view
Yeah, you REALLY were in some deep shit
Of course, Leonardo was the most concerned for your safety. Sure, each of his brothers was worried when you mentioned ninjas that looked to be part of the Foot Clan patrolling around your apartment
and what really got him like a worried mother hen was when he noticed Karai a part of that group watching your apartment
He proposes the idea to Splinter that you should stay, and being backed up by his brothers convinces Splinter
He didn't want to see you in danger, none of the family did.
"Stay as long as you need be, Y/n." bless that rat's heart!
Yes you'll stay
And by the way, it's really like an episode of Jessie in the lair, it's truly a party everyday down there! especially with Mikey
The only thing missing in the Hamato household was a confessional room
You honestly loved it so much, and so did the rest of the family, that Splinter offered you live with them- but it was up to you
OF COURSE you'll live there!
As time goes on, Splinter officially welcomes you into the family- and the Clan. You had been working intensively on becoming a kunoichi, and although you weren't at the caliber your new brothers were, Splinter recognized your drive, progression, and potential
"Aw, yeah sis! Now it's time to whoop some Foot Clan behind!"
Mikey is always hyping you up, too
the longer you live with the guys, you start to realize the differences in the sibling relationships you share with each of them
Leonardo
Mother Hen
I mean Leonardo
He's very protective over you, but it comes from a good place
he doesn't want to see you hurt, and that results in some missions having you as a getaway driver or a lookout
but he knows in order for you to grow and learn, he has to let you leave the nest (oh, mother hen Leo!)
Once he gets over that protective streak of his and realizes you can take care and handle yourself, he admires your strength and progress
And he lets you know every time
"I'm proud of you, sis."
It's nice to hear Leo saying he's proud of you. It's like showing your parents your perfect attendence certificate or something
You do show him your awards from college, by the way.
"Look, Leo! I made the dean's list!"
"I got an A+ on my organic chemistry final!"
"i benched 150 pounds with Raph today!"
He's so proud
As time went on since you moved in with the guys, Leo always makes it a point to include you in things he keeps to himself from his brothers
plus, they don't share the same interests as him for a lot of his hobbies
One of these hobbies is watching Space Heroes
Yes, watching Space Heroes is a hobby, debate him if you want to
He feels like the angels answered his prayer when he finds out you also love Space Heroes
On special occasions (or because you found something that made you think about him,) you'll buy him Space Heroes comics, posters, or action figures for his room and collection
Yes, Leonardo has a collection of Space Hero funko pops, and he's damn proud about it
On top of this shared interest of Space Heroes, you also take a liking to meditation (and Leo didn't even have to bother you about it! double points!)
You take time out of your day to meditate with him- up to two hours if you have the time!
what Leo likes about you as a little sister is that not only do you share common interests with him, but you share common interests with all of his brothers as well
And he appreciates that a lot
He appreciates that his brothers finally have someone who likes what they like, and someone who spends time with them doing what they like
While Raph takes it upon himself to train and coach you to become a better kunoichi, Leonardo does the same when you have the time
they actually had to make a physical schedule on the whiteboard in the dojo on who would be training you because it overlapped one day
which resulted in a petty argument between the two brothers
aside from that little issue in the beginning, Leonardo and Raphael are great teachers for you! Leonardo will teach you things Raph doesn't, and vice versa. Though theyre on the same skill level, they have vast differences in their fighting style
nonetheless, being Leo's little sister is very rewarding on both sides
Raphael
Although skeptical at first, Raphael warms up to you being his new sister
He never considered the idea of having a sister to be possible, but when you first moved in a few years back, he accepts it
When Splinter offered the kunoichi training to you, Raphael took it upon himself to show you everything he knew
He's seeking you out any free moment you have to train you, he WANTS you to be able to fend for yourself and kick some ass
Plus, the thought of you being able to win against Karai is what motivates him.
"My lil' sis just kicked your ass!"
Raphael is your #1 hype man too
during training as a group, he's always giving you pointers
you could compare it to a wrestler and his mentor/coach during a match
during a spar, Raph's pulling you to a corner so he can give you advice, give you a little motivation, and a head pat before you get back in the "ring" with whichever turtle you're sparring against
and when you officially become a kunoichi, Raph is such a proud older brother
Raphael considers you and him to be pretty close- you both seem to get along well, except for the times you and Mikey pull a prank on him
In those moments, you don't get along so much. But, it's still funny to see Raph chasing you and Mikey around the Lair to give you both a piece of his mind
during patrols, Raph likes to be paired up with you
it's literally batman and robin
you're robin btw
"you're tha sidekick,"
And you become his actual sidekick along with Casey when he becomes the Nightwatcher
It's hard keeping that a secret from Mikey
If you read Leonardo's section on how he would be as your big brother, you know that they teach you different things during training
You look up to Raph a lot, and would like to be as good as a fighter as he is someday
You tell him that while training one day
"Aw, thanks sis, that warmed up my cold heart"
You find that you and Raph share the same music taste
and of course you're having listening parties in his room!
Overall, Raph really enjoys having you as a little sister! He really feels like an older brother and a #1 hype man when it comes to you!
Donatello
Donatello absolutely adores having a little sister, although he doesn't take on a concerned parent role like Leo, a coach like Raph, or a disaster twin like Mikey, he has his own brotherly love for you
Donnie enjoys having long, interesting conversations about anything that piques yours or his interest
his brothers aren't really interested in his nerdy science stuff (as Raph calls it,) but they'll tolerate it and let him ramble on
However, with you in the home, he's able to come to you with anything he wants to talk about- a recent finding, a conspiracy theory, a science fact- literally anything
Donnie is also excited when you become a kunoichi, he actually (with the help of a sewing Raphael,) made your kunoichi outfit. He mod it with all kinds of technological stuff, including a moisture wicking fabric that completely stops you from sweating! you go Donnie!
If you're a night owl like Donnie, expect to spend time with him in the middle of the night.
Whether you're being his lab assistant, talking to him so he can stay awake, or refilling his coffee mug, he's very appreciative of having his little sister around for company
if you like coffee, also expect to make and drink some with him
Donnie also gives you full access to his secret snack stash he keeps in his lab- away from everyone (specifically Mikey.)
Because he's not as skilled as the rest of his brothers and relies on his inventions and smarts, he sometimes feels like he can't protect you
he sulks around for a while when he has this feeling, and when he brings it up to you, you can't help but frown and give him a hug.
"You do protect me, Don. You might not realize it, but you do."
And he does protect you! Donnie does a lot for you, without realizing it. I mean, he helped make your ninja outfit and helped you mod your kama when you had the idea one day.
You also look up to him, and of course you tell him that
He needs that reassurance that he's doing a good job as a big brother
"I wish I was as smart as you Donnie, you make such cool stuff! you're cool!"
2007 Donnie needs more love idc
Michelangelo
you think ROTTMNT donnie and leo are disaster twins???
I'm here to let you know that you and Mikey are the real disaster twins
Mikey and you will always plan a prank on one of your brothers at least twice in the same day, nobody is off limits
not even Mother He- I mean Leo
He's actually the easiest to prank if you count a sleep-deprived Donnie out the equation
Mikey always wanted a sister. Sure, he had siblings, but having a sister he could care for and do non manly stuff with was always something he wanted
Yes, Mikey will help you blow dry your hair
Yes, Mikey will dance with you in your room like an idiot
and YES, you and Mikey will have cooking competitions and gaming competitions no matter what
Be prepared to pull a lot of all nighters with him, too! When you're not with Donnie all night, the other turtles can find you and Mikey together
Some might joke that you're conjoined to the hip
Not only that, but if Mikey wants to do something, of course you'll join in!
"Sis...hear me out, right?"
"Hearing,"
"What if, like...we put prune juice in Raph's protein shake,"
"Hmm, he did put you in a headlock this morning and took the last slice of pizza from you..."
"exactly!"
"Sounds like I'm going to the store. huh?"
"OOOOh! Can I come with????"
"Of course you can! Go get your trench coat and hat. How about we get some celebratory boba too?"
Unfortunately for Mikey, his extreme bubbly personality doesn't sort of mix with his brothers (the exception being Raph, but even his social battery runs out eventually.)
So when you're living in the Lair and he has access to you 24/7, he'll seek you out to hang and spend time together!
Not that his brothers don't do this, but he finally has someone he can share his feelings with. Serious conversations never come easy to Mikey, despite being the most outspoken of the group. He's just used to being so happy-go-lucky, that he never stops to deal with some emotions he might have
But, that's what you're here for!
Inner thoughts turning into talk doesn't come easy to Mikey, but with his sister's help, he'll learn!
//
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No but seriously i'm very sorry for a really long absence, I was so caught up with work (even though at the end i got promoted haha) every single day and i was working 6 days a week 12 hour shifts, i'm so back :p. I have two months or so before work starts up and becomes hectic again, but within that time i'll be here updating my 2007 Leo fic as much as I can and answering my inbox reqs!
Wanderlust [TMNT 2007!Leo x Fem!Reader] Ch. III: Compromise
A/N: It's been an awfully long while- I apologize for taking so long. Life has been lifing, and work has been working :( 14 hour shifts baby!!!!!! I will try my best to be more consistent and at least leave updates when I can! I got some inspiration to write again after so long. I'd also love to become active again on tumblr! I really miss interacting with you guys and writing, so i will be answering any asks in my inbox. The format for asks is still the same- refer to my ask rules and steps HERE.
WANDERLUST PLAYLIST
Key:
--- = a flashback is beginning or ending
=== = perspective change (POV changes may occur, but will be explicitly stated when they come up)
~ = small time skip
You try to get a new I.D while also thinking about what occurred the previous night. Leonardo returns to you with a proposal that you realistically can't turn down. The DMV sucks.
Leonardo composed himself as he jumped from roof to roof around the city. After regrouping with the rest of the team, they all take turns talking about their solo patrol. There wasn’t anything exciting to report, really. A few bad guys here and there. Though it seemed like Leo’s experience had been the most eventful.
“Did she see you, dude?” Asked an intrigued Michelangelo. He hears a scoff come from both Raph and Donnie.
“This is Leo we’re talkin’ about. Fuckin’ up n’ revealing yourself is more your thing, Mikey.” Donnie nods in agreement at the red-banded turtle’s comment. Leonardo confirms this by smiling; it was best that he didn’t raise anyone’s hopes for a friendship that wouldn’t actually happen. Mainly Mikey, he didn’t want to disappoint his baby brother.
“How about we train as a team, yeah?” Leo proposes. Not wanting to go back home, the other three brothers agree. Hoping that something, anything would happen so they could spring into action.
As the night went on, the four brothers encountered only small events. A mugging here, gang activity there, hell, they even returned a missing cat to the owner’s window (they had no idea how the black cat even got up to the roof in the first place) Raphael was the one who brought back the ball of fur to the apartment fire escape, she had taken a liking for him, and he tried his best to keep his composure while Mikey and Donnie teased him for being a softy while the cat perched on his shoulder.
After these events, Leonardo decided to call it a night. Tomorrow, they’ll take a break from nighttime activities and spend the day training with Master Splinter.
~
As the leader in blue lay in his bed after his shower, his mind wandered to you. Despite not knowing you at all, he was relieved that you were safe. You were extremely lucky he had gotten there when he did. Leonardo’s brows furrowed, scowling at his negative thoughts; he didn’t want to imagine what would have happened to you if he hadn’t been there. In fact, he wondered just why you were on his mind. He’s saved plenty of pretty women before, so you were no different, right?
Unlike the women in the past, you put up one hell of a fight. From Leonardo’s experience, he didn’t expect you to be so prepared. You weren’t expecting anyone to save you.
Shaking his head in annoyance, the blue-banded turtle rolled over, hoping his mind could clear up so he could get a good night’s sleep.
====
The next morning seemed to roll around rather slowly. You were in a deep slumber, the curtains blocking any sunlight from coming through into your room. Sleeping Beauty had nothing on you right now. Your face nuzzled into a pillow, cuddling a green dinosaur plushie while the birds singing had only faintly entered your bedroom and filled the air. A large blanket covered you, and you were wrapped like the perfect warm burrito. Chipotle had nothing on you, either.
Your mind had been blank. Perhaps you were too tired from last night’s event that your mind just needed a complete shutdown. Nonetheless, there was nothing that could wake you up.
Rrring!
Okay, maybe one thing.
You groan as your arm pokes out from under the covers, and you feel all over the nightstand beside you, trying to find your phone. You feel for your device, your fingers dancing around the trinkets on the piece of furniture. The constant ringing becomes annoying, and once you finally feel your phone case, you quickly retreat your arm back into your humble abode under the covers.
“Hello?” You ask rather groggily. You didn’t bother to see who the caller was, but when you heard the sound of plates and utensils clattering in the background, you knew it was your job.
“Hey, Y/n. It’s Nick.” Your executive sous greeted you from the other line. “I just wanted to check up on you, see if you were doing okay.”
“Oh, yeah. I just need a day to myself.” Unwrapping yourself from the covers, you open the curtains from your bed. The sunlight immediately pools into your room as you do so, temporarily blinding you from how bright it is. Squinting, you open the window a crack for some fresh air.
“I lost my ID last night, so I need to go to the DMV.” You admitted rather defeatedly. You were dreading the day ahead of you.
“I see…damn, we’ll miss you tonight.” There’s a moment of silence between you two until you hear a voice in the background. “I don’t wanna keep you any longer. Be safe.” You were anything but safe last night.
“Yeah, you too. Thanks for…checking up on me.” You say the last part sheepishly. You weren’t expecting a call from him at all this morning.
“Anytime, see ya.” Once he hangs up, your lock screen displays the time. 10:30 AM. You sigh and place the phone down on your nightstand, stretching out your arms. You were already awake, so you might as well eat something before going out and running some errands.
You settled on scrambled eggs with toasted sourdough, which will hold you over until later.
Once you had cleaned up and dressed, you grabbed your jacket and earmuffs, mentally preparing to sit for hours at the Department of Motor Vehicles.
~
“What do you mean you can’t replace it?” You whine in disappointment to the teller behind the glass. The old woman sighs, running a hand through her silver locks. “You’re going to have to give me some sort of government identification for me to do so. Birth certificate, passport, or proof of residence.” She responds, almost as if you’re being difficult. You were just a girl trying to get a new ID!
“So I would have to go back home to get my birth certificate, then come back?” You whine.
“You would also have to repeat the process of getting a number from the ticket machine and wait in line.” Groaning in frustration, you glance at the clock on the wall. 3:00 pm. By the time you came back, it would be time for the DMV to close. You most certainly are not coming close to getting your new identification card.
You contemplate your next move for a few moments and end it by thanking the lady for her help. You decide to try tomorrow, only this time, you’ll bring your birth certificate. It was somewhere stacked in a secret filing cabinet in your closet, which contained all your important documents. As you walk out of the government building, you feel your stomach begging for food as it aches. You were there for quite a while, and you could use good comfort food right now.
You take your usual route to the grocery store near your apartment, imagining everything you could make today. Your taste buds seemed to crave something Spanish, and your mind then wandered to all the possibilities for Spanish cuisine. You grab a small basket and make your way down the aisles. You browsed all the foods for a while before finally deciding on something you knew would satisfy both your sweet and savory tooth. No recipes, no measurements, just a passion for cooking and the techniques to pair with it. That’s what makes a great chef.
Going to the register to pay, you soon leave with all the required items in a plastic bag. You couldn’t wait to get home, for your toes to be engulfed in a pair of fuzzy socks with the heater on blast. You walk through the streets of New York City once again, the cold air blowing onto your red cheeks. Luckily, this time, you wore a scarf to cover your neck. It wasn’t cold enough for frost to appear, but it was cold enough for your skin and lips to become severely dry.
It was almost sunset, and it would soon become dark. The moon, always so bright, comes into the sky to replace the sun while it naps. You knew to get home before this happened, just to avoid any conflict similar to the one you encountered the other evening. You make your way soon to your apartment building; a few bags are carried in one hand while the other one holds your keys.
“Finally,” You say as you press the silver button to call for the elevator. You watch as the numbers creep down, stopping every now and then to pick up people from the floors. One elevator had been out of service for a few weeks, and you hoped it would be repaired soon. For now, you only had one elevator display to look at while you waited.
Once you made it to your level and unlocked the apartment door, your mind instantly became zen. Your apartment, as small as it may seem, is your own little woman's cave. It was quiet, away from all the craziness at ground level out on the streets, and was only occupied by you. Perhaps a pet would be considered in the future, but you weren’t really thinking about one right now. Besides, you were trying to keep yourself afloat as much as possible.
The bags were placed on the kitchen counter, and the powerful JBL speaker pill was turned on, its startup pings echoing through the silent apartment. Who cooks in silence? Everything was better with some background music. You grab a large pot from the lower cabinet near the stove, fishing out some vegetable oil from the adjacent drawer to fill it with. The pot gets placed on the back burner and will be heating up as you work, ready to be used when you are ready to fry.
===
“You broke WHAT?!” Turning his attention away from the monitor, the purple terrapin groans at his elder brother. Leonardo stands looking guilty as ever, a smile of shame plastered on his face.
“Don, I swear, I didn’t mean to.” As usual, Leonardo was copping pleas. He was sure he had been cursed since birth when it came to kitchen appliances. He tried to calmly explain himself as to why the microwave in his hands had short-circuited and was engulfed in a layer of steam. “If I had a dollar for every time you broke the microwave alone, I’d have…” Donnie counts his six fingers quickly, his facial expressions aligning with the different instances of Leo’s tomfoolery.
“A lot. A lot of dollars.” Six fingers weren’t enough to count on. Leonardo was notorious for causing mishaps in the kitchen. As a result, unless supervised by a trusted adult (mainly a judgmental Raph or disappointed Mikey), he was banned from using all kitchen appliances. “I just wanted to warm my tea up, heh…” Leo’s voice trails off sheepishly, watching as Donnie’s face goes into his hands from both bafflement and fatigue.
“I’ll have it fixed,” The turtle gives in. “Don’t worry.”
As Leonardo closed Donnie’s lab door behind him, he was soon hit with the realization of his pending task regarding a photo and an important government card. Luckily, Splinter’s training today was intense enough to put Mikey to bed early, but just enough for Raph to be fired up for some additional exercise in the dojo. Leaving without an explanation would be easier than Leo thought. He exited the Lair swiftly after leaving Don to fix what he had fucked up.
Navigating his way through the sewers and up to the surface, a sense of nostalgia barraged his head. Since coming back, seeing the city and going on patrol was enough for him to reflect on the days before his training. It seemed as though Leonardo had left the city and come back as a new turtle, yet his surroundings remained the same. A year and change away from New York City changed nothing but an increase in the MTA subway fare.
‘Home sweet home,’ Despite the loud, rash, and crude New Yorkers who couldn’t drive for shit, he was happy to be back. Protecting the city was his duty, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
Leonardo reaches into his side belt, fishing out your I.D. card. Luckily, all of the info needed to find you was right at his fingertips.
Looking at it longer, he analyzes your photo and basic information.
L/n, Y/n
237 Henry St Apt 15B
New York, NY 10002
DOB: //____
Issued: 04/07/2007
Expires: 12/15/2014
Sex: F Height: ___ Eyes: E/c
Henry Street, he knew where that was. Somewhere in Manhattan County. Finding a ladder that leads up to a roof, he begins to stretch his limbs when he reaches the top in preparation for the upcoming parkour.
-===
‘Almost finished!’ You cheered in your head. Oh, the suspense! These pastries were bound to be delicious. You decided on empanadas. Maria had made them for Family Meal* at work once before, and they were the best you’ve ever had. An assembly line was created on your kitchen counters and stove.
After cooking your chicken, you diced up a block of guava paste and queso blanco (a little tedious, guava paste is very sticky). Next, you took a spoonful of each to place in separate empanada discs, making sure not to overfill or underfill. After, you fold both ends of the disc together, pressing down with the ends of a fork to secure it shut.
With a pot of fresh hot canola oil, the filled raw empanada dough went quickly bubbled and rested at the top. They each came out a beautiful golden brown, with some impurities from air bubbles and small tears atop the empanada, causing a small amount of filling to seep out and fry, crusting over the disc. Though no empanada was perfect, it was all about taste.
After impatiently waiting for them to cool down on a paper towel, you poked each one to test its temperature for human consumption. You valued your taste buds; burning them was not an option here.
But, it was going to be a few before the dozen empanadas completely cooled down. With some time to spare, you began cleaning up, music from your speaker playing faintly in the background as you did so.
Suddenly, a low knock was heard at your window; however, you deduced it was the wind. The wind speed had been pretty high given the month, so debris hitting your window or the occasional pigeon was nothing to be concerned about.
It wasn’t until the knock persisted, gradually getting louder with each and every hit on your window. Pausing the music, you dry your hands before tiptoeing across your apartment into your clothing closet, fishing out an old wooden baseball bat for “protection.” Though a little heavy, if you swung it with enough force, it was sure to do some damage.
“…” As you got closer to the window, there were a couple of pitter-patters. It sounded like…pebbles being thrown?
“…” It persisted, and you snuck around your bedroom, making sure to be completely silent before peering outside your window. Looking both ways before deciding what to do, your guard stayed up, keeping a consistent batter's up stance. You opened your window, feeling the cool night air seep into your apartment with every gust of wind that followed.
“Psst!” A hushed voice called. Though unfamiliar, they didn’t appear to be an immediate threat. Besides, if they were such, they would’ve attacked by now, considering throwing pebbles was not enough to damage your window.
Pondering about it a few moments more, a lightbulb turned on in your head.
Maybe, just maybe, it was Mystery Man.
This thought alone had caused you to willingly open your window, grabbing the sweater on your bed left from earlier in the day, and fully step out onto your rooftop. You weren’t used to coming up here at all. In fact, you couldn’t remember the last time you did so. Sure, the rooftop was a good place in the summer to get a nice tan with minimal distractions, but there wasn’t any rhyme or reason why you would be up here other than that.
Who knows? You might be one step closer to seeing just who he is.
“Hello?” You say to nobody in particular. It was a little difficult to see on the rooftop, with it being nighttime. The moon provided little aid in being able to observe your surroundings. HVAC units scattered around your roof and neighboring ones, along with the many satellite dishes (go green, am I right?) There wasn’t any sign of someone being on the rooftop with you, although the tiny debris used to get your attention was scattered around your now open window.
“Hello.” You jump a little, startled. Your eyes began darting around the area, trying to look for who responded to you. It was like a game of Marco Polo, only your eyes weren’t closed. The clear-cut voice was a few feet away from you, almost halfway across the surface area to your left.
As if you were taking too long to find out the source of the noise, you heard someone clear their throat. This was enough to deduce where the voice was coming from- it had been the large air unit ten meters away from you.
“Hey!” You exclaimed, “That was you last night, wasn’t it?” You asked the air unit. By the slim chance it was your savior, you prepared a mini thank you speech in a matter of a few seconds before the voice responded.
“Yes.” A clear male voice replied.
“Thank you, " you begin. “You really saved me back there. I don’t even want to think about what would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up.” After your statement, there’s a moment of silence between you.
“You’re welcome. Although it’s best not to think about it.” His voice was smooth like honey; his tone dripping with sincerity. He seemed to pose no threat to you. Only, how did he know you lived here?
“Um…” You start fiddling with your thumbs, “How did you find me, anyway?”
“Well,” he says, “I had picked up something after you were able to escape.” You tilt your head in curiosity, “You’re missing your I.D., correct?” You watch as a floating card emerges from the side of the air unit. He made sure to conceal his hands to avoid any issues with revealing something about himself to you. As you squint, you notice that it is, in fact, your missing I.D.
“Well, I got your address from that. I came to return it to its rightful owner.” You cheered internally, smiling with both relief and excitement. You wouldn’t have to sit at the DMV for hours on end! In addition, it wasn’t in the hands of some stranger off the street.
“Oh my gosh, thank you!” You smiled at what you declared to be your hero, although his face was still unknown. You thought for a brief moment- a complete stranger doing a good deed, huh? Either this guy was trying to get his daily dose of good karma, or he wanted something in return. That final thought caused you to become slightly skeptical. “There's a catch or somethin'?”
“Not a catch. A proposal.” The man’s voice enlightened you. A proposal? What could there be to propose to you, anyway?
This was the perfect moment for Leo to get down to the reason for his visit. Rather than beat around the bush, he decides to be blunt about the reason he’s here. It felt as if he expected you to respond, as the silence between you two stood for a brief moment. The only thing heard were the cars below and chatter from folks as well. “Well,” You started, unsure of what this alleged ‘proposal’ could be.
“Well, you see, miss,” The voice had suddenly become stern, almost like he was trying to establish a ground he wasn’t going to back down from, “There is a certain photo- or photos- that are of me on your device.” It seemed he noticed the look of slight guilt on your face and body language. “Unfortunately, I cannot leave until I know that it’s been deleted.”
“Could you…give me your phone so I can delete what you took a few nights ago of me? Please.” Leo paused before adding ‘please’ at the end of his request. Unlike Raph’s threatening ways towards people who took unwanted photos of them, Leonardo was the more reasonable one when it came to compromise. When he doesn’t hear an answer from you, he voices his request once again.
“You delete the photo, I’ll give you back your I.D. Sounds good?” Leo asks. He was still not emerging from behind the air unit, and he intended to stay there until this interaction was over.
“Oh, that? Yeah. But, just that?” You ask.
You thought he was going to have some crazy request from you, but it was simpler than you’d anticipated. Leonardo also thought this was going rather well. Who was he kidding? He saved your life. You owed him so much that you deleted a picture from your phone.
“Just that.” He answered.
“Could I ask why? It’s not really a good photo to begin with, I mean, I still can’t even tell what exactly you are.” You seemed to have answered your own question, because you heard a deep sigh from the opposite end.
“You seem smart, yeah?” Leonardo had to reason with you.
“I would hope so,” you replied, a little put off by his question.
“Let me guess, you went searching for an answer? Maybe browsed the web? Couldn’t find anything?” His voice remained calm, though if you continued to go back and forth, unbeknownst to you, he would have to resort to other measures. Even if it meant destroying your phone.
“Yeah, but how-” "Ma’am, I’ve been doing what I do for a long time. You are not the first, and probably not the last, of the very few who’ve photographed me. It’s my job to stay hidden and protect. However, that also means making sure any evidence of my existence, whether a good photo or not, will not and can not reach the general public.”
Despite Leonardo not knowing much about you, he figured that he owed you an explanation. You had just been so calm about the entire thing, and asking the ‘why’ is completely normal. Donatello had always said that humans are extremely curious beings, and ask questions about…literally everything they might not understand. He takes this way of thinking from Master Splinter. He still says that humans fear what they do not understand. However, April and Casey were an exception to this statement. They were different. They listened. They accepted.
Not everyone in the world would be the same.
“Please, ma’am?” Leonardo asks again. Only this time, his tone was slightly more demanding than the last time he had asked.
“It’s Y/n, calling me ma’am makes it seem like I’m an old lady. But yeah, let me go get it. Don’t go anywhere.”
“My apologies, Y/n.” You wondered what his name was.
You head toward the window to return to your apartment. Once inside, you unplug your phone from the charger and ensure it’s unlocked so the man can delete it without a password.
You hesitate to go back out, not without giving him at least something. Getting an idea, you quickly head to the kitchen. The empanadas are still hot. You open the cabinet and look through the many Tupperware containers you have. Once you find one suitable for at least three empanadas, put them inside with a napkin, close it up, and bring it along. Nobody could turn down good food.
You learned a valuable lesson while working in food service that school didn’t teach you. No matter what conflicts folks may have, food will bring everyone together. People can gather and enjoy a good meal together. Food is something that universally brings happiness. In addition, giving someone food is a sign of gratitude. It was the least you could do for him. Plus, from the low stomach growling coming from the shadows the man was in, you could tell he was hungry.
“Got it! Here.” You begin to walk over to the air unit, only for the man to yell an anxious “Wait!”
You stop halfway, wondering what you did wrong.
“Could you just…slide it over to me? Sorry but…I can’t let you see me.” His response caused your eyes to narrow at the large object he was behind. He wants to remain hidden. The thought of why struck your mind, but you wanted to keep the good morale up instead of asking him things that might make him uncomfortable talking about.
Whatever the case was, you complied, respecting his boundaries. After all, it was the least you could do after he saved your life.
“Oh…yeah. Um, here.” You bend down on the concrete, angling your phone before sliding it successfully over to the unit, just enough for him to reach it. Then, you slide over the Tupperware as well. You watch as a stick drags the phone into the shadow and hovers over the container.
“What’s this?” He asks.
“Food. I figured you might be hungry.” You reply, “Plus, I wanted to show my gratitude.” You say that last part with a half smile, hoping he won’t turn it down.
“…Yeah. I um, haven’t had dinner yet.” The stick continues hovering over your offering, almost as if he’s inspecting it. He’s wary of you.
“What is it?” He pokes the top with the stick, unsure if he should accept it.
“Empanadas. One has guava and cheese, the other two are chicken.” You explain. The man is silent for a bit until he chuckles.
“Empanadas? I haven’t had one since…” His silvery voice trails off.
“Since…?”
“Since I…visited South America.” He says, almost as if he’s reminiscing about his time on the continent.
“Wait, you traveled there?! How was it? What country did you visit? How were the people?” You bombarded him with questions, wondering just what his experience was. Something you longed to do, he’s done.
“It was…refreshing. I lived about a mile outside the San Tuma village within the Guapiles. But I didn’t really have a conversation with any of the people there. Just there to protect and stay hidden. I’m sure you can see the pattern.” He answers all your questions, and you watch as his stick slides the phone back to you.
Although a cryptic one, you did see the pattern. Stay hidden, yet protect the unprotected. But why remain unknown? It seemed to be an odd system. I mean, police weren’t hidden; they were everywhere. Faces revealed, being a protector for the city you resided in. Although some weren’t the best at their jobs, they all had one thing in common: they were out in the open. The concept of vigilantism clouded your mind, and you wondered what exactly this man’s purpose was.
“Costa Rica, huh?” You sigh in awe, wondering what the country looks like.
You sit down on the edge of your window, zipping up your jacket for warmth. “Do you travel often?” you chirp in curiosity.
“No, that was my first time.” You can hear movement from behind the air unit, and soon enough, the man speaks up again. “This is really good.” He muses in between bites. It must’ve passed whatever test he was doing on it for him to eat it, right?
“Oh, thank you…um…” Your voice seemed to trail off, hoping the man would fill in the blank and reveal his name.
“It’s…Leo.” What a cute name, wouldn’t you say?
“Is that a nickname, Leo?” Leo’s lips curled into a smile, and he seemed to like the way your voice said his name so smoothly.
“No, it’s just Leo.” Leonardo didn’t trust you fully enough to reveal too much about himself. You didn’t know what he looked like, nor his full name.
“I’m not a good cook at all,” Closing the container to save the rest for later, Leo begins planning his exit to get back home. “Compliments to the chef.”
“Thank you again, Y/n. I appreciate it, really.” You smile, a slight blush forming on your cheeks. It felt like it was getting colder by the minute, and you needed to go inside for warmth. Leo probably needed to do the same.
So when he bids you a good night and suggests you go inside so you won’t catch a cold, you wonder just where Leo goes. Where does he live? What’s his life like compared to yours?
Going inside and rubbing your hands together to generate heat, your mind wanders to Leo. His name pretty much matched his voice. Leo was a calm and collected name, and his smooth, non-threatening voice was a perfect fit. So, you knew his name, but what about his face? What color were his eyes? Which borough did he live in?
You made up your mind before speaking to Leo that you weren’t going to pry into his personal life too much. Of course, you were curious. Who wouldn’t be? But you also didn’t want to scare him away from all the questions and interrogations.
Perhaps you could see him again, too. You weren’t exactly the most sociable, nor did you have a lot of friends to hang out with.
‘Who am I kidding?’ You shake your head at the thought of being friends with Leo. For all you knew, he could be dangerous. Although he didn’t appear to pose any danger to you. He also didn’t seem like the type to make friends so easily, either. He wasn’t too trusting of strangers. Especially ones named Y/n who took blurry pictures of him.
Instead of overthinking, you take a deep breath, forcing your mind to stop going a thousand miles per hour on the man you’ve met on the rooftop of your apartment building. Maybe fate would have something up its sleeve, and your path would cross with Leo’s once again.
====
As Leo leaped from rooftop to rooftop, he held the container of food tightly, making sure it wouldn’t fall out of his grasp. He decided to save the rest for later when he returned home. Plus, he didn’t want to geek out on how good it tasted in front of you. One thing nobody knew about Leo was that he loved food. He loved trying new things, and he was the most adventurous when it came to trying different cuisines compared to the rest of his brothers.
Going back to the food in his hand, Leo was appreciative of it, truly. He had to get used to what he ate prior to his training. During that time overseas, Leo had been living off nuts and berries; anything he could find in the jungle. However, when he started making a name for himself as the Ghost of the Jungle, San Tuma villagers left out offerings of different foods as a sign of respect and gratitude for having someone watching over them from their homes. As a result, ever since Leo returned to New York City, he had been craving Spanish food. He couldn’t exactly hop on a plane and knock on Abuelita’s door begging for arepas con queso or asado in the middle of the night. He was stuck in New York City, and he knew he wasn’t going back anytime soon.
Probably never again. Though it was for the best, he was needed here now. The city needed him, his family needed him, Raphael needed him.
Leonardo couldn’t wait to eat something other than pizza when he got home. Not that he didn’t like pizza, but he went through phases where he despised it. Sure, Mikey was the designated cook for the family, but sometimes he just didn’t feel like cooking. As Leonardo taps in the passcode to the Lair, it opens. The leader walks in haphazardly, looking around the dark living room for anyone who might be awake. However, it was as quiet as the Lair could be. Not even a mouse was stirring (no offense, Splinter.)
“Hey, dude!” Jumping in surprise, Leonardo’s face gets hit with a water balloon. The water exploded everywhere, spraying onto his plastron and wetting his bandana.
“Hi, Mikey,” Leonardo responded darkly to his baby brother, whose shadowy figure is brought to the light in front of the Lair’s entrance. “And why are you awake?” Mikey follows his brother like he was part of a conga line, walking behind him as he heads upstairs to the bathroom to grab a fresh towel to dry himself with. “I’m a night owl, man!” Mikey’s face had a permanent smile ever since his big brother came back home.
“You were drooling just the other night,” Leo chuckled, “the only thing missing was your thumb in your mouth like a baby.”
“Dude,” Mikey snickers before patting his brother on the shell, “Didn’t you sleep with that one-eyed turtle plushie thing ‘til we were, like, twelve?” Suddenly, the blue-banded terrapin snapped his neck to look at his brother, with an offended expression that followed.
Okay, unnecessary!
---
Leonardo remembered all too well. Despite being the appointed leader from Splinter at age fifteen, he was still sleeping with his stuffed sea turtle every night. Raphael would sometimes take it and put it somewhere in the Lair for Leonardo to find if they were mad at each other. Squishy was his comfort animal, and his only toy he ever owned.
One day, when they were around six, Master Splinter spent a whole day in alleys around the city with the turtles when they were tots, looking for new additions to the Lair. As the day went on, they were finding more and more items to bring home. Raphael, Donatello, and even Michelangelo all found toys they liked. However, Leonardo wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t want a toy; he wanted something he could cuddle and hold while he slept. It seemed all hope was lost, and Leonardo’s melancholy expression pulled on Splinter’s heartstrings as the day came to an end.
And there he was- Squishy. Sitting on top of some rubble by the dumpster. He was a little beaten and used, but his bright turquoise skin was still prominent. The plushie was missing a button eye, but that didn’t stop the eldest turtle from falling in love with it. Leonardo was drawn to him immediately. It wasn’t every day the turtles got lucky with toys, especially ones that were turtles like themselves.
“Can I take it?!” Leonardo’s pre-pubescent voice spoke with excitement, and Master Splinter felt relieved that his eldest son finally found something he wanted.
“Of course you can, Leonardo.”
“Squishy.” The small brown-eyed turtle repeated happily to himself all the way home. The sea turtle was so soft in his hands, despite its many imperfections. Leonardo was so grateful, and in that moment, he realized the value of even the smallest things.
---
“You leave Squishy out of this.” Mildly offended, Leo’s expression turned stoic, his voice slightly raised to defend Squishy as if he were his appointed attorney.
“Whatever. Hey, whatcha got there?” Mikey’s attention immediately went from trash-talking Leo’s childhood comfort toy to the container in his hands. But before Mikey could grab it to see, the turtle in blue quickly retracted his hand to place it behind his back. “Some food, I wasn’t feeling pizza tonight.” That was half-true. It wasn’t just any food. It was food from a complete stranger.
“Oh! Is it from Murakami’s?” Mikey’s mind flew to the asian restaurant the turtles were regulars at after hours. Murakami-san was blind, though he could sense that Leo and his brothers weren’t human. However, he was forever in debt after they stopped the Purple Dragons from trashing and robbing his small restaurant. To beat on an innocent blind man like that? You’d have to be sick.
Leonardo was quick to say no; however, Murakami’s would be a plausible excuse. Saying ‘no’ would mean Leo was hiding something he didn’t want the others knowing about.
“Yeah, I stopped by to say ‘Hello,’ and I left with a plate of food.” Mikey ponders for a bit, but accepts this as an answer. Of course, Murakami was always giving the turtles food. It was the least he could do after they saved his life and his business. Since that day, the turtles checked on Murakami numerous times throughout the week to make sure he was okay; that the restaurant was afloat.
“Gimme a taste, brah!” As Mikey tried reaching for Leo’s hands containing the tastiest food Murakami possibly made, each failed attempt caused the next one to be more difficult than the last. Mikey’s efforts were in vain.
“No.” Leo’s tone didn’t change. Though a hint of annoyance shone through. His poker face said all Mikey needed to know. He wasn’t getting a taste.
“But why!?” A child-like voice whined. “I wanna go to Flavortown too!” With that, Leonardo walked past his little brother to put his food in the back of the fridge. To the naked eye, it was nowhere to be found. It was strategically placed behind a carton of milk, face down. Then, he made his way upstairs. Uninterrupted, of course. Mikey wasn’t going to get a bite, and he knew it. So, he accepted his defeat, settling for the last slice of stale pepperoni pizza in the black and white checkered Antonio’s box on the kitchen counter. Cold slice or hot slice, it was good either way.
~
Leonardo’s room was his sanctuary. It was exactly the way he left it before he left for South America. Clean, organized, and zen. His room was the first one down the hall, adjacent to Raphael’s and next door to Donatello’s. Michelangelo was the last one. Leo’s room consisted of not many things; he preferred not spending so much time cooped up in it. The popcorn ceiling remained white, and the concrete walls were painted cerulean. His bed hugged the wall, leaving open space in the middle for a beautiful traditional Japanese rug. His katanas sat in a holster near the entrance, with his gear hung up neatly on an old mannequin exoskeleton he found a while back. The lamp on the birch nightstand at his bedside illuminated the room with a warm yellow light as soon as he turned it on.
Home. Home sweet home.
Leo’s katanas returned to their holster, his belts and harness on the hanger. Getting ready for a good night’s sleep, his mind was filled with nothing but how Y/n’s food tasted. It was immaculate, something he could only dream of recreating. There’s no doubt about it, Y/n was a talented cook. Her empanadas reminded him of his second home in Argentina.
It made sense. Y/n’s food was good. She was seen outside one of the tastiest restaurants in the area. The turtles had had Hudson Grille before; it wasn’t foreign to them. Leonardo remembers April bringing down food from there as a thank you for helping her move into her new apartment with Casey. It wasn’t a fancy place, just food made from the soul.
A rather…absurd thought ran through his head: Perhaps a plate of food from Miss Y/n was in the foreseeable future. Better yet, a written recipe that maybe Mikey could recreate at home? No, Mikey’s cooking was incomparable to the woman he ate from today. Speaking of Y/n, this had been the third time he conversed with another human girl. Sure, he’s saved women in the past, but dialogue never went past “thank yous” and “be safe.” He was simply there to get the job done and move on. These stoic talking points from the leader were a direct cause of intertwining with the enemy. Letting someone- an enemy, out of anyone- get his emotions in a bunch was something he wasn’t proud of. Lust over loyalty was something Leonardo fell victim to and knew all too well.
Karai’s perfectly sculpted body entered Leo’s clouded mind, his scowl and furrowed eyebrows from disgust causing them to disappear. He didn’t want to think about her anymore. He didn’t want to think about his mistakes and what they led to. That he, for the first time, was thinking with his dick and not his brain.
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Can you do a 2007 Raph x collage psychology student reader
After Leo leaves, Reader just moved from Florida to New York for college to become a therapist, but still keeps in touch with her family by calling every few days. She meets Raph by accident a week moving into her dorm, and after spending some time together, they eventually start dating (her roommate knows about him, but they just don't really care, lol).
Two months into the relationship, Reader gets a call from her parents that a family member she doesn't know died, and even though she doesn't really care, she still wants to be there to support them, and when Reader tells Raph about the situation he pretends to take it well but is worried she's not going to come back even though she says she will. So when she does come back a few days later, she spends the next couple days with him to make him feel better.
A/N: This ended up a bit longer than I originally intended, but I really wanted to properly set up Raph and the reader’s relationship and display his insecurities regarding Leo leaving and how that affected him.
I hope you enjoy! 💖
I’m Not Going Anywhere (angst)
❤️ 2007 Raphael/Female Reader ❤️
CWs: Angst, some brief violence, blood and injury, hurt/comfort, and abandonment issues. All characters are aged-up.
The move from Florida to New York was jarring. The skyline swallows the stars, the cold air bites harder than you expected, and the city never stops buzzing. You traded palm trees and predictability for subway maps and a cramped dorm room. But although it’s only been a week, it already feels more like home than Florida ever did.
You moved away for college to study psychology, finally pursuing your dream of helping people untangle the knots in their heads. You miss your family, and you had promised to call at least every couple of days. Your mom always sounds a little too cheerful, your dad distracted in the background. They mean well.
They just don’t quite understand why psychology, why New York, why now. And you try not to feel the weight of their confusion pressing behind every “we’re proud of you.”
Then one night, on the way back from a late study group, it happens. You’re still memorizing the streets and directions, and you end up taking a wrong turn trying to find the quickest route back to your dorm, earbuds in and your thoughts drifting. You almost don’t notice the guy in the alley—until a sharp, desperate cry cuts through your music.
You yank your earbuds out. You hear heavy breathing, the scuff of shoes on asphalt, and a low, threatening voice: “Just give us the wallet, old man. And the watch. Don’t make this difficult.” Peeking around the dumpster that marks the alley’s entrance, your blood runs cold.
Two large, brutish men have a third, much older man pinned against the brick wall. His face is pale with terror, his hands raised in surrender. Your own hands begin to tremble. This is it. The New York horror story every out-of-towner is warned about. Your first instinct, a primal scream in your gut, is to run. To turn and sprint back to the well-lit street, dial 911, and forget you ever saw anything.
The man’s fearful eyes meet yours for a fleeting second over the shoulder of one of his assailants, a silent plea that roots you to the spot. The future therapist in you, the part that wants to help, wars with the terrified Florida girl who is way out of her depth. Before you can settle on a choice, it’s made for you.
There’s a metallic clang from above, like a dropped wrench on a fire escape. The two thugs look up, annoyed. “What the hell was that?” one of them growls.
Someone drops from the darkness above, landing in a low crouch, clad in armor. “You heard him,” a voice rumbles, low and gravelly, distorted by the helmet. “Don’t make this difficult.”
The thugs are momentarily stunned. Then one of them scoffs, pulling out a knife. “And who are you supposed to be? Some kinda bargain-bin Batman?”
The armored figure doesn’t answer with words; he moves. An elbow connects with the first thug’s jaw with a sickening crack. A metal-gauntleted fist slams into the second one’s stomach, doubling him over with a gasp. In less than ten seconds, both men are groaning on the ground, disarmed and incapacitated, the fight over before it truly began.
The armored vigilante turns to the old man, who is staring, slack-jawed. “Go. Get out of here.” The command is rough, impatient. The old man doesn’t need to be told twice. He scrambles away, disappearing into the night.
Then, the helmeted head turns to you.
You’re still frozen at the alley’s edge, your bag held to your chest like a shield. The heavy helmet tilts down, and you feel the weight of an unseen gaze sweep over you, assessing. You see your own wide-eyed, terrified reflection warped in the visor. For a heart-stopping moment, you think he’s going to come for you next, another loose end to be dealt with.
“You shouldn’t be here,” the voice rumbles. It’s not a question; it’s a statement of fact, laced with annoyance.
Your brain, which had shut down completely, reboots with a jolt. “I … I took a wrong turn,” you stammer, the words barely a whisper. Your knuckles are white where you’re clutching your bag strap.
He takes a half-step towards you, and you flinch, pressing yourself back against the grimy brick of the building behind you. “Go home,” he grunts, gesturing dismissively towards the street. “And forget you saw anything.”
He grabs the bottom rung of a fire escape ladder, preparing to haul himself up. He’s leaving. Just like that. The encounter is over. All you have to do is turn around and walk away. Go back to your dorm, lock the door, and pretend this was a nightmare brought on by too much caffeine and stress.
But you don’t move.
“Wait,” you call out, your voice steadier than you expect.
He freezes, one boot on the first rung of the ladder. He doesn’t turn around, but you can feel his entire body tense.
“You’re hurt,” you add, your observational skills kicking in despite the shock. You can see a wound on his arm, something that must have happened in the brief scuffle.
“I’m fine,” he bites out, the words clipped.
“It’s bleeding,” you insist, taking a cautious step forward. You point toward the gash on his bicep, where blood is slowly seeping through a tear in the fabric under his armor. “You can’t just leave that. It’ll get infected.”
He takes a step down from the ladder, and then another, until he’s standing in the alley again, looming over you. “What part of ‘go home’ did you not understand? Are you deaf, or just stupid?”
The insult stings, a sharp jab to your already frayed nerves, but you force yourself to stand your ground. You meet the visor of his helmet, refusing to be cowed. “Neither,” you say, your voice remarkably even. You hold up your hands in a placating gesture, letting your bag slide down one arm. “I’m a student. I … I have a first-aid kit in my bag. For emergencies. It’ll take two minutes.”
You watch as the helmet tilts down to look at the gash on his bicep, then back up at you. Through the distorted reflection, you can just make out the hard set of your own jaw. He’s weighing his options: the risk of infection versus the risk of trusting a complete stranger.
Finally, he lets out a sound that’s halfway between a sigh and a growl. “Fine,” he rasps. He points a finger upward, toward the roof. “Up there where no one can see us.”
You nod, your heart hammering against your ribs, not with fear anymore, but with a strange, jittery adrenaline. He turns and begins to climb the fire escape with a fluid, powerful grace, even with his injury. He moves with a silence that seems impossible for someone his size, his armored boots making only the softest of metallic sounds on the rungs.
You follow. Your hands are slick with nervous sweat as you grip the cold metal. The climb feels treacherous, your bag bumping awkwardly against your back. You don’t look down. You focus only on the rung in front of you and the broad, armored back of the strange vigilante above you.
When you finally heave yourself over the ledge onto the flat, gravel-strewn roof, you pause, hands on your knees as you catch your breath. He’s already standing by a low ventilation unit, his back to the sprawling cityscape. He watches you, his posture rigid. The helmet is still on, hiding everything.
“Well?” he prompts impatiently. “You wanted to play doctor. Get on with it.”
You slide your bag off your shoulders and kneel on the gritty rooftop, unzipping it with trembling fingers. You pull out the small, red nylon case of your first-aid kit. Your hands are shaking as you open it, revealing antiseptic wipes, gauze pads, and rolls of tape.
“You’re going to have to take that part of the armor off,” you state, looking at the pauldron covering his bicep. “And you’ll have to take off the helmet if—”
“No,” the voice rumbles, the single word sharp and final, cutting through the quiet. He takes a step back, putting distance between you. “The helmet stays on.”
You bite your lip, feeling a fresh wave of trepidation; you’ve pushed too far. But your logic, the student-in-training part of you, won’t let it go. “What if you have a head injury, and—”
“I don’t have a head injury,” he snaps, gesturing to his bleeding arm. “The problem’s here. Now are you gonna help or are you just gonna stand there making stupid demands?”
The insult lands, but it’s laced with something else. Like a frantic, cornered energy. He’s not just being difficult; he’s scared.
You don’t know of what.
“Okay,” you concede softly. “The helmet stays on. But the pauldron has to come off. I can’t get to the wound otherwise.”
He hesitates for another long moment. Then, with a grunt of resignation, he reaches up with his good hand. There’s a series of soft clicks and snaps as he unfastens the piece of armor covering his bicep, pulling it free before dropping it. He then works at the torn sleeve of the garment underneath, ripping it further to expose the gash properly.
And you stop breathing.
Your brain simply cannot process what you’re seeing. Under the dim glow of the distant city lights, the skin of his arm is not any of the tones you were expecting: it’s green.
For a second, you think it’s a full-body suit, some kind of advanced costume. But you see the texture of the skin itself, which has a smooth, almost leathery quality, with faint, subtle patterns like a reptile. And he’s massive, his bicep thick with a dense, powerful muscle unlike any you’ve ever seen on a human.
He notices your hesitation, your frozen posture. “What?” he growls, his voice low. “Gonna run screaming now?”
His question snaps you out of your stupor. He’s waiting for you to recoil, to confirm whatever fears he has about being seen. The part of you that wants to help—the part that is your entire reason for being in this city—overrides the part that is struggling with reality.
“No,” you say, your voice a little shaky. You clear your throat and force yourself to move. “No, I’m not.” You reach into your kit and pull out an antiseptic wipe. Your fingers tremble as you tear the packet open. “This is probably going to sting.”
He just grunts in response, watching your every move.
You take a deep breath to steady your hands and gently press the wipe to the edges of the cut. He flinches, a sharp intake of breath, but he doesn’t pull away. You work with a focused silence, cleaning the wound as best you can.
“Why?” he asks suddenly.
You pause, looking up at the helmet. “Why what?”
“Why are you doing this? You don’t even know me.”
You grab a sterile gauze pad and press it firmly against the gash to staunch the bleeding. “You saved that man. You got hurt doing it. Seems like a fair trade.”
He’s silent for a long time as you work, taping the gauze into place. Your hands are steady now, your purpose clear. When you’re done, you gently pat the bandage.
“There,” you say. “You should get that looked at by an actual doctor, but it’s clean and covered for now.”
He looks down at his bandaged arm. He seems … surprised. As if he didn’t actually expect you to go through with it.
“What’s your name?” you ask, the question popping out before you can stop it.
He tenses again. “Why?”
“Because I can’t keep calling you ‘the armored vigilante’ in my head forever,” you say, trying to lighten the mood.
A strange sound comes from the helmet; you take a second to identify it as a rough, choked-off chuckle. “Raph,” he says.
You offer a small smile and tell him your name.
“Right,” Raph says, standing up abruptly. He picks up his discarded pauldron, looking at it for a moment before deciding to just carry it. “Remember, you never saw me. Don’t come looking for trouble.”
He turns and stalks to the edge of the roof without a backward glance. With the same impossible grace as before, he swings over the side and disappears down the fire escape, his movements swift and silent.
You’re left alone on the roof, the cool night air raising goosebumps on your arms. Your mind is a whirlwind of green skin, a gravelly voice, and a single, reluctantly given name. You look down at your hands. A small smear of drying blood is on one of your fingers. His blood—the only proof that any of this was real.
After cleaning your hands, you slowly pack up your first-aid kit, moving on autopilot. Then you tuck it carefully into your bag before making your own, much slower, descent back to the world you thought you knew.
The memory of that night replays in your mind for days. You do your coursework; you attend lectures on behavioral theory; you text your family that yes, you’re eating enough vegetables. But a part of your brain is always on that rooftop.
A week later, you climb the fire escape again. It’s a foolish impulse, one that the logical part of your brain screams against. He told you to stay away. But the therapist-in-training part, the part that saw a flicker of profound loneliness behind that helmet, is stronger.
Your heart beats a nervous drum against your ribs as you reach the roof—but you find it empty. You sit for a while, watching the traffic as you work on some essays or read, and then you go home. You do this for three nights.
On the fourth, he’s there.
He’s not in his armor, just dark pants and a hoodie, the hood pulled low. He’s leaning against the same ventilation unit. As you approach, he doesn’t turn, but you know he heard you.
“Thought I told you to forget you saw anything,” he rumbles.
“You also told me your name,” you counter softly, stopping a respectful distance away. “Kind of a mixed message.”
He’s silent for a long moment. Then he turns his head just enough for you to see the strong line of his jaw in the shadows. “You’re stubborn.”
“I’m told it’s one of my defining traits,” you reply, a small smile touching your lips.
And that’s how it begins.
You meet on that rooftop, maybe once or twice a week. The conversations are stilted at first. You talk about your classes, the culture shock of moving from Florida, the pressure you feel from your family. He listens, though he rarely talks about himself.
About a month into your strange rooftop rendezvous, he finally trusts you enough. You’re talking about a frustrating professor when he reaches up and pulls his hood back. You’d prepared yourself, but it’s still a shock. His skin is green, his head bald and reptilian, his eyes a startlingly intense amber. You even see the peek of a plastron and—is that a shell?!
He’s a turtle. A giant humanoid turtle!
He’s waiting for you to scream, to run, to do anything but what you do—which is meeting his gaze and giving him a small, genuine smile. “Hi, Raph,” you say, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.
The tension drains out of his shoulders in a visible wave. He gives a short, disbelieving huff of air through his nostrils. From that night on, the hood and armor stay off when you’re together.
Your late-night disappearances don’t go unnoticed. Your roommate, Chloe, a born-and-bred New Yorker with zero patience for nonsense, corners you one evening as you’re trying to sneak out.
“Alright, spill,” she says, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re not in a cult, are you? Because my mom’s cousin joined a cult and the first sign was him sneaking out at all hours to ‘commune with the moon goddess’ in Central Park. So if you’re doing that, just tell me.”
You laugh, the sound a little shaky. “No, definitely not communing with any goddesses.” You hesitate, chewing on your lower lip. You’ve kept this part of your life entirely separate, a secret world on the rooftops. But Chloe is your friend, and the lying is getting exhausting. “Look,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “It’s a guy. But it’s … complicated.”
“Complicated how?” she asks, her gaze sharpening. “Is he married? In a gang? Both?”
“No! God, no.” You lean against the wall, trying to find the words. “He’s just really shy. And he prefers … nighttime.”
As if summoned by your words, a soft, distinct tap-tap-tap sounds on your dorm room window. Chloe’s eyes widen and she swivels her head towards the sound. You close your eyes, a groan escaping your lips. Of course.
She stalks over to the window, yanking back the curtain. On the fire escape, illuminated by the glow of a nearby streetlamp, is Raph. He’s in his hoodie, but there’s no hiding the massive, three-fingered hand resting on the windowpane, or the sheer bulk of his frame. He sees Chloe, his eyes going wide, and he immediately pulls back, ready to bolt.
You rush to the window, sliding it open a crack. “Raph, it’s okay! It’s okay, this is Chloe. My roommate.”
She just stares. She takes in the green skin, the edge of the shell visible under his hoodie, the general impossibility of him. Her expression is utterly blank. You brace yourself for the screaming, the fainting.
Instead, she lets the curtain fall, turns back to you, and crosses her arms again. She’s silent for a long, drawn-out moment. Then, she asks, in a perfectly level tone, “So, is he why we’re suddenly out of frozen pizzas?”
The sheer, anticlimactic normalcy of the question sends a wave of hysterical relief through you. “Um. Yes?”
She nods once, as if this explains everything. “Fine. Whatever. Just tell your giant turtle boyfriend to use the front door from now on.” She uncrosses her arms and walks back to her desk, picking up her textbook as if nothing has happened.
And just like that, the biggest secret of your life is out, met not with panic but the resigned sigh of a city girl who’s apparently seen too much to be fazed by mutant reptiles.
New York, you decide, is even weirder than you thought.
You glance back out the window, where Raph still lingers on the fire escape, clearly caught between fight, flight, and full-on identity crisis. “You good?” you whisper.
His eyes flick between you and the curtain Chloe just dropped, and he mutters, “Didn’t think I’d be meetin’ your roommate like that.”
You stifle a laugh. “Yeah, well, she’s more chill than she looks.”
“She just called me your boyfriend,” he says, and there’s something new in his voice—half teasing, half stunned. His gaze locks with yours, and for a second, all the noise of the city fades.
Your stomach does a little flip. The way he says boyfriend, like it’s foreign on his tongue, like he doesn’t quite know if he’s joking or serious, makes your heart thud hard against your ribs.
You meet his gaze, searching his expression. “Well,” you murmur, “you do keep showing up at my window like a lovesick raccoon.”
That gets a low chuckle out of him, gravelly and amused. “I’m way cooler than a raccoon.”
“Debatable,” you say, smiling now. “You eat all my food, lurk in the dark, and have mysterious night habits. Sounds pretty raccoon to me.”
His head dips slightly, maybe in defeat, maybe to hide a grin. “Fine. But a buff raccoon.”
You lean on the window frame, looking at him. “A terrifying, buff raccoon who apparently gets flustered when Chloe calls him her roommate’s boyfriend.”
That earns a dramatic groan as he lifts a hand to his face. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
That hangs in the air between you for a beat. Then Raph shifts his weight, shoulders squaring, eyes warmer now. “So … still up for a run across the rooftops?”
You grin and reach for your jacket. “Always.”
Now, you’re two months into a relationship with Raph.
And over these past months, the pieces of his life have slowly slotted into place for you. You’ve met his family: Splinter, his father, calm and commanding, with a quiet strength that fills every room. Donnie, his tech-genius brother, whose mind moves at lightning speed. And Mikey, the youngest, a whirlwind of bright energy who immediately declared you his new favorite human.
And then there’s the missing piece, the ghost that haunts their home: his older brother, Leo.
You’ve learned about him in fragments, pieced together from Raph’s late-night rants. Leo had left months ago for a training mission in Central America. His departure left a gaping wound in the family, a fracture in their dynamic. And for Raph, it’s a wound that festers with a unique blend of resentment, grief, and a profound sense of abandonment.
Raph feels the weight of leadership now and the sting of his brother—his rival, the family’s rock—choosing to leave them behind. You understand now that much of his anger is just a shield for that deep, aching hurt.
You’re curled up on the couch in the lair, a psychology textbook open in your lap. But your attention is fixed on the old sci-fi movie playing on the TV. Raph is on the floor, his head resting against your knees, completely relaxed for once. This is your new normal, and you love it.
Then your phone buzzes on the cushion beside you. You glance at the screen; it’s your mom.
“Hey, Mom,” you say, keeping your voice low as Raph’s gaze flits to you.
Her voice on the other end is strained, artificially bright in that way she gets when she’s delivering bad news. “Hi, sweetheart. So, um, I’m calling because … well, your Great-Aunt Carol passed away last night.”
You blink. Great-Aunt Carol? You vaguely remember a stooped, stern-faced woman from a family reunion when you were six, one who smelled like mothballs and gave you a piece of hard candy that tasted like soap. You haven’t seen or thought of her since.
“Oh,” you say, unsure of what else to offer. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“The funeral is on Friday,” your mom continues, her voice cracking slightly. “I know it’s a long way, honey, and with your studies … but your father and I would really love it if you could be here. For support.”
You don’t care about the funeral, not really. But you hear the wobble in your mom’s voice, the plea behind the words. She wants her daughter. “Of course, Mom,” you say without hesitation. “I’ll book a flight. I’ll be there.”
After you hang up, Raph pushes himself up into a sitting position, turning to face you. His relaxed posture is gone, replaced by a subtle tension in his shoulders. “Everything okay?”
You close your textbook and set it aside. “A great-aunt of mine died. The funeral’s in a few days back in Florida. My parents want me to come home.”
“Oh,” he says, the word flat. “Right. Family’s important. You should go.”
His response is perfect. It’s exactly what a supportive boyfriend should say. But you’re fluent in Raph, and you see the flicker of something else in his eyes. It’s the same look whenever the conversation turns to Leo.
“I’ll only be gone for a few days,” you say, reaching out to touch his arm. “Just for the weekend, really. I’ll be back Sunday night.”
“Yeah, I know,” he grunts, not quite meeting your eyes. He stands up, a sudden, restless energy about him. “It’s fine. Go. Do your thing.” He turns away from you and pretends to be interested in a rack of weapons against the wall.
You know he’s not fine—because you know that ‘leaving’ is a loaded word with him. You get up and walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck from behind and pressing your cheek against his shell. “Raph,” you say softly. “I promise I’m coming back.”
He lets out a shaky breath, placing one of his hands over yours. “I know,” he says again, his voice a low rumble. But he doesn’t sound convinced; he sounds like a little boy trying to be brave.
The next few days are a blur of travel and stilted social obligations.
The funeral is as awkward as you imagined. You stand beside your grieving parents, holding their hands, offering tissues, and accepting condolences from relatives whose names you can’t remember for a woman you barely knew. You feel like an actor in a play you haven’t rehearsed.
You text Raph sporadically. ‘Landed safely.’ ‘Funeral was today.’ ‘How are you?’
He gives clipped, monosyllabic replies. ‘Good.’ ‘K.’ ‘Fine.’
It’s like talking to a brick wall, and it makes your heart ache. He’s closing himself off, retreating behind his anger because it’s safer than admitting he’s scared.
On Sunday evening, true to your word, you’re back in New York. The cab ride from the airport feels impossibly long. You don’t even bother going back to your dorm. You pay the driver and head straight for the lair.
You slip inside, your overnight bag still slung over your shoulder. It’s quiet. The main living area is empty, save for Mikey’s scattered comic books. You find Raph in the dojo, sitting on the floor, his back to the door. He’s not meditating. He’s just … sitting. The stillness from him is more worrying than any of his rages.
“I told you I’d be back,” you say gently.
His head whips around. His eyes widen, a storm of disbelief, relief, and something incredibly vulnerable washing over his face. He’s on his feet in a second, closing the distance between you in three long strides. He doesn’t say a word, just cups your face in his hands, his thumbs tracing your cheekbones as if to confirm you’re real.
“You’re back,” he breathes, the words full of emotion.
“I’m back,” you confirm, leaning into his touch. “I promised, didn’t I?”
He finally lets himself pull you against his plastron, his arms wrapping around you securely, protectively. You can feel the tension bleed out of his shoulders as he rests his head against yours. “I was worried,” he admits, the confession a low, gravelly whisper. His eyes finally drop from yours to the floor. “Stupid, I know.”
“It’s not stupid,” you say, sliding your arms around his neck. “Not when you’ve lost people before. Not when you’re still scared it could happen again.”
His arms tighten just a little, holding you like you might still disappear if he lets go. “I kept thinking you’d get down there, see how simple things used to be, and realize you don’t need all this,” he mutters. “All the crap that comes with bein’ with me.”
Your heart aches at the rawness in his voice. You pull back just enough to look him in the eyes. “I don’t want ‘easy,’ Raph. I want you. This. All of it.”
His expression falters, the fierce mask slipping for a moment. There’s something wide and uncertain in his gaze, something wounded and desperate for reassurance. You cradle his jaw in your hand, thumb brushing over the curve of his cheek.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you whisper. “You don’t scare me. This life doesn’t scare me. But the idea of not being here with you? That does.”
He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut like he’s savoring the words, letting them sink in deep. When he opens them again, the storm has settled a little. Still there, but quieter.
“I missed you,” he finally says.
You smile softly. “I missed you too.”
He steps back and grabs your bag with one hand like it weighs nothing, gesturing toward the common room. “C’mon. You look dead on your feet. Let’s get you settled.”
“I’m not going to bed yet,” you reply, following him. “You’ve been sulking for three days. I think you owe me some quality time.”
That gets a grunt, but the corner of his mouth lifts just a little. “What, like a movie night?”
“You pick the cheesiest, most ridiculous movie you own,” you say, “and I get to use your shoulder as a pillow.”
“Deal,” he says, and the word is so immediate, so relieved, that you know you made the right choice.
You don’t go back to your dorm that night.
The next morning, you wake to the distant sounds of clattering and energetic yelling from the kitchen. You find Raph already there, leaning against a counter with a mug in his hands, watching Mikey attempt to flip a pancake the size of a manhole cover. Donnie is at the table, tinkering with some gadget and pointedly ignoring the culinary chaos.
“Morning,” Raph says, his eyes lighting up when he sees you.
Mikey, mid-flip, spots you and beams. “She’s alive! Dude, I thought you were gonna sleep forever. Want a pizza-sized pancake?” He gestures with his spatula to the monstrosity in the pan, which looks suspiciously lumpy.
“I think I’ll stick to coffee for now,” you say with a laugh, accepting the mug Raph offers you, and you lean against the counter next to him.
Later, you find him in the dojo, working out his remaining frustrations on a heavily worn punching bag. He moves with a brutal grace, every muscle in his powerful arms and shoulders coiled and released with explosive force. You don’t interrupt, just lean against the doorframe and watch until he finally stops, panting, his skin slick with a light sweat.
He turns, wiping his brow with the back of his hand, and finally says what’s been sitting between you. “Hey. I, uh … I was a jerk when you were gone.”
You push off the frame and walk over, picking up a water bottle from a nearby bench before holding it out to him. “You were scared,” you counter gently. “It’s okay to be scared, you know.”
He takes the bottle, his fingers brushing yours. He avoids your gaze, looking down at the scuffed floor mats. “Yeah, but I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”
“No, it wasn’t,” you agree softly. “But I understand why.” You reach up and place a hand on his cheek, turning his face toward you. “So I forgive you. On one condition.”
A hint of a smile touches his lips. “What’s that?”
“You let me win our next game of air hockey.”
He lets out a genuine laugh. “Not a chance.” He leans down and captures your lips. He pulls you flush against him, and you can feel the steady, reassuring beat of his heart against your own.
The next day feels lighter.
You spend the afternoon on the couch, your legs thrown over his lap as you try to explain the fundamentals of cognitive-behavioral therapy to him using his favorite movie characters as examples. By evening, you feel the last of Raph’s anxious energy finally dissipate. So you tell him you have to go back to your dorm for clean clothes and textbooks.
He doesn’t retreat or tense up. “I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to,” you say, but he’s already grabbing his hoodie.
“I know. I want to.”
When you reach your dorm, you pause and look at the glittering expanse of the city out of your kitchen window. “It’s weird,” you muse. “When I first moved here, this all felt so big and scary. It felt … lonely.”
Raph comes to stand beside you, following your gaze out to the city lights. “And now?” he asks, his voice low.
You turn your head to look at him. You think of the weight of his arm around you on the couch, the steady beat of his heart. The feel of his lips on yours. You smile and take his hand. “Now,” you say, lacing your fingers with his, “because of you, it feels like home.”
HOW AND WHERE all un/intentional crimes the TMNT 2007 guys committed happened, a thread:
Leonardo
justifiable homicide - killing the gang leader who was terrorizing the village in south america at the beginning of the film
assassination - killing a notorious gang member in South America
First-degree murder - killing a man with a deadly weapon in South America
Tampering with a consumer product via Aircraft - potentially touching carry-ons in cargo while on the plane back to NY
Possession of a deadly weapon on an Aircraft - owning and having twin katanas on the plane
Trespassing on an Aircraft - not paying for his ticket, not possessing a Passport for travel, and hiding in cargo on his trip back to New York
Property damage - damaging consumer goods and products within a government building (Winter's Corp)
Trespassing - Being in an unauthorized building (Winter's Corp)
Michelangelo
Reckless driving - not obeying traffic laws within the city of New York, speeding, tailgating while driving his Cowabunga Carl van
Attempted vehicular manslaughter (fully intentional) - this one was a joke lol
Reckless endangerment - holding nunchucks in his van out in public as Cowabunga Carl
Child endangerment (unintentional) - rough housing with party guests as Cowabunga Carl
Owning a business without a license - creating Cowabunga Carl without an LLC and official license
Employment under a false identity - using a fake name/social security in order to be employed as Cowabunga Carl
Property damage - damaging consumer goods and products within a government building (Winter's Corp)
Trespassing - Being in an unauthorized building (Winter's Corp), standing on an ice hockey rink during a game in the 2007 comic as Cowabunga Carl)
Donnie
Tax evasion - this one was a joke hehe
Employment under a false identity - using a fake name/social security in order to be employed as an I.T tech support
Fraud - falsifying credentials/licenses in order to get a job as an I.T tech support employee
Cyberbullying - also a joke but he's def done it before LMAO
Hacking - entering firewalls and government records via computer (also a joke)
Property damage - damaging consumer goods and products within a government building (Winter's Corp)
Possession of illegal explosives - using his homemade explosive in order to free Leo from the cage in Winter's Corp
Arson - carelessly using a homemade explosive in an unauthorized government building at Winter's Corp]
Trespassing - being in an unauthorized building (winter's corp)
Raphael
Impersonation - pretending to be a defender of justice within New York City as the Nightwatcher (taking over the old man's alias he was cool with in the comic)
Vigilantism - creating the Nightwatcher to fight crime the police don't get to
Obstruction of justice - taking the law into his own hands as the Nightwatcher
Possession of deadly weapons - owning twin sai and a spike ball...thing, in public
Destruction of property - throwing Leo against a pipe/air unit on the rooftop of Red Eye hotel
Trespassing - being in an unauthorized building (Winter's Corp), going toward the back kitchen in the Diner without authorization
Motor vehicle theft - a joke lol, he got it from an old man in the comic
Reckless driving - disobeying road signs and street lights, speeding on his motorcycle as the Nightwatcher
Street racing - a joke but he definitely would do this Lmao
Driving without a license - not possessing a license while driving his motorcycle around as the Nightwatcher
driving without a license plate - not having a license plate on his motorcycle while driving around as the Nightwatcher
//
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How does the 2003 turtles react to crushes - part 1
Just a little thing cuz I miss writing, i miss tmnt and I haven’t got the time to do a full one shot or mashup in MONTHS 😔, I’m still on season 1-2 so if anything is a bit too ooc, I apologize! I love reading about crushes, first kisses, first loves, so this is for my puppy love stage lovers out there!!
p.s: there's a poll for the next turtle by the end of the headcanon, make sure to vote your favorite! <3
(English is not my first language and I have dyslexia, I try to check everything before posting but sometimes grammar mistakes still happen, I apologize in advance if you find one!)
Leo
That’s some deeply repressed, effortless devotion energy right there, Leo is a pro at pretending that everything is fine, keeping it cool, but on the inside? so freaking nervous it’s not even funny
it's almost creepy how quiet he suddenly gets near you on your first visits, he acts in such a secluded but... odd way that everyone know something is up with him, but no one really knows what.
His younger brothers are all 🤨 over how he’s acting, at first, they noticed tiny shifts in his behaviors, they weren’t big enough to raise a red flag of such change, but when Leo shows how inpatient and careless he has become in training or meditating, then they KNOW something was really off . he has been careless for the silliest things as well, breaking the toaster more than once a week, forgetting to nag them about the open toothpaste, stuff he usually wouldn't miss it, but suddenly he doesn't mind it anymore.
None of them have the guts to ask him (Raph and Mikey might tease here and there, but you know, it’s Raph and Mikey) Don might find himself studying his brother from time to time, interested to why his older brother is being way more introspective than before, he wonders if maybe he’s going through a natural turtle process of some sort
April is the only one who truly leaves him be, but as your visits become more frequent, it all clicks when you randomly stop by to deliver some groceries by Master Splinter request.
The pure lovesick look he glances at you when you first enter... you caught him completely off guard as he was leaving the dojo with Master Splinter, his dementor shifted back rapidly to stoic, but April noticed it, her eyes widened slightly as it all made sense, softening right after.
Leo helps you with the groceries with agility, as Master Splinter excuses himself after he thanks you, he even dares to make small talk after an extremely long and awkward moment of silence (which he researched his possible lines in his head several times, made up several scenarios in which topic it could lead into, I might add)
We have seen how Leo reacts to Usagi in the series (he has a fat crush on each other and I’m right) so you know even if he is indeed nervous, Leo is so dedicated to your well-being, attentive to your needs and inputs to missions or even movie debates, it’s heartwarming to see how inclusive he can be of you.
He notices everything – Not in an obvious way, or a loud way, but in a way that means you’ll never have to ask him twice about something important to you. You mention offhand that you like a certain type of tea? He remembers. You’re shivering? He’s already handing you his jacket before you can say a word. The exact moment you get tired even before you admit it.
One day at training after sparring, you absentmindedly rubbed your wrist. You didn’t say anything, didn’t complain at the pain you might have felt, but later that night, you find a perfectly wrapped bandage roll left on top of your bag. No note. No explanation. You glance at Leo, and he’s just calmly cleaning his takana, pretending like he has no idea what you’re looking at.
He’s not the type to shower you with words, but his actions speak volumes. He makes sure you always walk on the safe path while coming back from a mission or scorting you back home, he picks whatever condiment out of your food because he remembers you don’t like them. He’ll “coincidentally” be around when you need help, even if he acts like it’s no big deal. He's gentle, kind, and a true gentleman, he makes sure his presence is there. He effortlessly puts so much thought into you, it’s just how his mind works.
He disliked how nervous he first got around you, but after a while, he didn’t even realize how he had grown used to thinking about you. He grabs an extra bottle of water without thinking because you might be thirsty later. His brothers joke that he’s got favorites, and he just denies it, but deep down? Yeah. It’s you.
Eventually, he has to talk to someone, and he chooses to confide in April about… well, everything? regarding feelings, about how to be sure, what does it feel like to love someone and how should he react to it? wait, did he say love? How can he stop his hands from getting so sweaty? this is ridiculous, should he feel anxious and at ease around you all at the same time?
From time to time, he tells himself he doesn’t like you like that, that he’s just looking out for you because you’re part of the team, part of the family. that's just him being a leader, That’s all it is.
his train of thought is broken as he hears Mikey chuckle “Dude, you’ve got it bad.”
Leo stiffens, cleaning his throat as he turns he page of his book a bit too slow “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, you SO do.” Mikey grins. “The ‘eyes-follow-them-every-time-they-leave-the-room’ thing? The ‘silent-knight-hovering’ thing? classic move, real smooth.”
Leo exhales through his nose, forcing himself to focus on back his book. It’s not like that. It can’t be.
"Maybe you should tell them, who knows, they might be looking back right at ya" Mikey winks at him, biting on this apple as he sits on the couch, turning on the tv.
Maybe he was looking at you too long, maybe he wasn't as subtle as he thought he was, or his brothers just, unfortunately, know him too well and finally caught up. He prided himself and his control, his calm exterior, carefully managed. but maybe you slip through the cracks.
He can't help but to continue notice how eyes shine brighter when you smile, remembering every little thing about you, doing things that only you get to see.
Deep down, he knows. He just doesn’t know what to do with it yet.
who do you wanna read it next?
Donnie
Raph
Mikey
Voting ended onFeb 17, 2025
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