delulu-julia

[delulu-julia]

WOY X READER IN THE BIG 25?? oh my goshh!! can i request hater x gn!reader hcs like them catching feelings/mutual pining (CAUSE I THINK I CAN FIX HIM I LOVE A BOY FAILURE 😭)

Lord Hater crush headcanons (+ mutual feelings)

(Romantic, GN!reader)

YESS I LOVE THIS LOVERBOY <333 he’s the one of my most favourite characters in the show 💔also sorry it took so long, I really enjoyed doing your request,, it was a little harder to write than i thought

It starts with you as an obstacle. Maybe a rival villain, a hero like Wander, or just a chaotic wildcard who keeps ruining Hater’s plans to conquer planets. He hates you at first, ranting to Peepers about you as an infuriating pest who dares upstage him

Hater’s admiration kicks off when you challenge him, in a way that’s both infuriating and intriguing. Maybe you interrupted his galactic takeover, or otherwise did something better than him

(Idk why I imagine it somewhere in big chaos like in “The Battle Royal” where you outwit him in front of Dominator. He’d roar “Nobody upstages LORD HATER!” but secretly replay your smirk or clever quip, thinking ‘They’re NOT that cool…’)

He starts obsessing over beating you, only to realise one day that it’s not just about winning anymore—it’s about you.

“They’re NOTHING compared to me! So why I can’t just destroy them?! UGHH, STUPID—“

His ego driven heart latches onto you as a rival he needs to impress at first, and soon he’s daydreaming about you cheering his conquests instead of fighting him

Outside you’re still rivals, but if you’re in danger during a galactic brawl, surprisingly he’d blast enemies away with a roar “I’m only saving you so I can destroy you MYSELF later!” Or “I just didn’t want it stealing my kill!” Hater has a soft spot for those he cares about (like Captain Tim or Peepers), so his first warm feelings shows in subtle, grumpy ways.

Hater’s real, still raw feelings slips out during high-stakes moments, like when you’re forced to team up against a bigger threat (think Dominator-level chaos or something worse)

Maybe you saved him from a collapsing space station, or praised his skills, or even let him save you and thanked him later, and suddenly, instead of his usual bravado he feels something…different.

He’d act annoyed, but his lightning sparks fizzle and he avoids eye contact, a crack in his tough-guy act. Something strange shifted in his chest, and later, alone in his quarters, he’d pace remembering your bold move and muttering:

“They’re just a nobody! A nobody who’s…kind of awesome. NO WAIT, IM AWSOME! But, they’re not too bad either…WAIT, NOO—“

After that, very slowly his feelings will migrate from enmity to some kind of formed crush. It’ll take some time, but when it’ll happen, everyone will see it, and especially you. Because Hater’s crush is anything but subtle

Hater’s attempts at impressing you are big failure. He’d flex his lightning powers or show off his skullship to prove he’s the greatest, expecting you to swoon. When you don’t, or worse, tease him, he’d throw a tantrum, blasting asteroids to bits while shouting “Why aren’t they IMPRESSED?!”

Somehow, your defiance fuels his feelings, turning his attention into a weird, romantic fixation.

He starts staging bigger, flashier schemes and moves just to get your attention, all while denying it’s personal. Peepers notices it and sighs “Sir, are you trying to… flirt?”

His crush mirrors his insecurity. He craves your validation, so if you’ll give even a hint of respect (like praising his evil laugh) he’d puff up with pride. His sparks flare brighter when you’re around betraying his feelings, and he’d use his powers more that needed mid-battle to catch your eye, only to trip over his cape if you’ll look back

If you’ll destroy or stop his current rival like Emperor Awsome or the Evil Sandwich he’d yell “That was MY move!” but grin like an idiot. His crush makes him both competitive and smitten, much like his obsession with being ‘the greatest’

Hater’s possessive streak goes WILD. If you interact with someone too close or too friendly, especially with Wander or Sylvia, he’d go livid. Not just because you’re thwarting him, but because he wants your focus on him. In a fit of rage, he’d yell:

“You think that banjo-playing weirdo’s better than ME? I’m LORD HATER!”

His feelings makes him desperate for your attention, and he hates when your attention is somewhere… not on him. So when you’ll talk about other villain he’d interrupt your conversations with loud boasts:

“Bet they can’t conquer planets like ME!”

…If you roll your eyes at this but smirk, he’d take it as a win. His heart will thumping and he’ll mutter “They totally like me…”

Hater can’t just accept mutual feelings, he needs to make sure. He’d stage a ridiculous display to see your reaction, like blasting:

“HATER + [YOUR NAME]”

into a planet’s surface with lightning, then casually asking “So, uh, seen anything cool lately?” while leaning against a wall. If you blush or return a flirty quip, his sparks go haywire, lighting up the room, and he’d yell “HA! I KNEW it! I’m the GREATEST at romance!”

…But he’d immediately backtrack, hoarse voice dropping “I mean… you’re sure, right? You’re not just… saying that?” His skeleton frame hunches slightly, hood shadowing his nervous eyes as he craves reassurance

Realizing the feelings are mutual makes Hater bold but clumsy. He’d try to flirt, his deep voice dropping to a gravelly whisper as he says “So, you’re into the greatest villain ever, huh? Can’t blame you.” But his delivery’s off. He’d trip over his cloak mid-line or accidentally zap a nearby lamp or knock something over, and then yelping “WAIT, NEVERMIND—“

If you’ll laughs or returns a playful nudge and say that he’s the greatest for sure, suddenly he’s a big mess. Hater becomes all awkward, his massive hands fidgeting as he tries to play it cool, muttering “Uh, I mean, yeah, of course I am! And you’re… erm, not terrible either.”

…Later you’d find a badly written letter slipped from the scullship’s trash compartment with one single question and two possible answers:

“Do you like me?”

Chek 1:

⬂ ⬃

□ Yes! □ no.

⬀ ⬁

…If you’ll ask him about it he’ll furiously deny writing it, blaming Peepers or “space gremlins” but his pure panic gives him away

So, what’s your answer, hm?

[delulu-julia]

happy 12th anniversary to my favoritest tv show ever

[delulu-julia]

<3 <3 <3 <3 well since you asked.. can you pls write what qualities you think each character(or just Peeps! I've got a big fat crush on him lol) is looking for in their dream partner? Like the ones they value the most.

(If that's not too much😅 It's my first time requesting something🥲 Also don't worry about personalisation too much, i'm sure it'll be great anyway!! Make sure to take breaks! I can't wait!1!1)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ C. Peepers dream partner headcanons ⋆˙⟡

Gn!Reader x Peepers

Most likely Peepers dream partner would be someone who would reflect his main qualities

It means that he dreams about someone loyal, brainy and ambitious, with enough patience to endure his world of villainous victories and failures. So…

Peepers is all about climbing the villain ladder. Became better, better, better!… His ideal partner might share that hunger for power and success too

His match needs to be motivated, determined and willing to put in the work. Maybe someone with their own villainous aspirations that align with his, like expanding the empire or outsmarting rivals. This quality would make him feel inspired, like they’re a powerful couple dominating the galaxy together, turning his usually solo stress into shared triumphs

As the brains of the operations, Peepers would crave a partner who’s smart, quick-witted and can keep up with his tactical genius (or even challenge it subtly)

He would value someone who thinks ahead, spots flaws in plans and offers clever solutions, like an accomplice who helps perfect his evil schemes rather than just nodding along

In everyday life this shows up in intellectual banter like debating galaxy conquering strategies or coming up with plans of destroying their enemies. It’ll make him feel like he’s found an equal who ‘gets’ his mind

And in opposite, dumb luck or impulsiveness would frustrate him endlessly

Peepers lives and breathes for Lord Hater and their evil empire, so his dream partner needs to match that fierce loyalty, not just to him, but to the mission. Betrayal or flakiness? Instant deal-breaker

He want someone who’ll sticks by him through failed invasions and Hater’s tantrums, maybe even helping cover for his boss’s screw-ups. In a relationship it’s mean being his steady anchor: no side-eyeing his obsession with Hater, only a total ride-or-die support. Understand and accept him fully, even with his sometimes odd behaviour and obsessions

…Bonus if they’re loyal enough to join in plotting Wander’s downfall without question

With his short temper and endless frustration (thanks to Hater’s immaturity and Wander’s meddling) Peepers would deeply value a partner who’s calm under pressure and can handle his rants

Someone patient who listens, clever enough to drop a snarky quip to break tension, or just lets him vent without judgment

His ideal match would need to be stable enough not to add to the chaos. If you’ll offer steady presence that grounds him, maybe with a dry sense of humor to match his sarcasm, it would be huge for him, as it makes him feel supported without feeling ‘babied’

I won’t say that Peepers isn’t clingy, I think he’s just too busy micromanaging Watchdogs, babysitting Hater and, well, working. So for him an ideal partner would be self-sufficient, capable in a fight or scheme and not needing constant attention. You need to handle your own in some situations without requiring his constant worry for your well being

This man already has so many responsibilities, so if you don't involve him in your rescue or moreover, do everything yourself, he’ll be more than grateful

Over-dependence would annoy him. Someone who pulls their weight would earn his admiration.

In short, just don't mock him or try to ‘use’ him. Maybe defend him in battle a couple of times, but don’t make it mindlessly or to ‘prove’ something, or it will only show him how unreasonable and irresponsible you are. Listen to him even when no one else does. Don't look down on him. Don’t try to lie, be honest. Don’t annoy him too much, give him enough space and respect him. And the most important, treat him as an equal.

And ta-dam, congrats! You got his rare attention. Because now, you act like an ideal match for him😉

[delulu-julia]

First meeting ⋆˚࿔

(Peepers x Hater)

Summary: Somewhere out there, on a planet where the dust never settles, a loudmouthed teen with lightning powers met a nervous little alien. And because he felt like it… he named him Peepers.

Planet: Vorkent 9.

Not much more than a junk ring and a couple of failed colonies. Only the dust-choked air and sky of the color of rust. Loud winds and endless storms. Nothing lived here if it had a choice.

Hater didn’t. He was here ‘cause his van broke down… Again.

He kicked the engine, sparks flying “Stupid piece of— work for ONCE, would ya?!”

The van whined in protest. Hater snarled and kicked it again, this time harder. Debris shattered free, flying into the nearest crater.

That’s when he heard it.

A sound, soft but sharp, like a startled gasp. He turned, eyes glowing faint green, and saw it. Someone was watching him from a pile of junk. Small. Round. Nervous.

“Hey!” Hater barked “Whatcha starin’ at?!”

The little guy flinched hard and ducked down, but didn’t run. Hater stomped over, expecting a fight, but what he found instead made him… pause.

That alien looked awfull. Bruises and abrasions on his body. Clothes were torn. All covered in dust, his legs were shaking slightly, as if he had not eaten for several days. His voice was high and anxious.

“I-I wasn’t! Sorry, I just—I thought you were gonna blow up”

Hater blinked “…What?”

The alien gulped “The van. I mean… You hit it pretty hard.”

Eventually, his van became less important. Hater's eye twitched, he became curious. It was unexpected to see someone in a place like this. “You live here?”

The little guy stammered, then gave a shaky nod.

“No, not actually, I just—” he whispered. Some bitter and half aggressive tone came out with next sentence, “There’s no other place for me to go anyway... not anymore.”

Hater's fingers flexed. Suddenly, a crooked grin crossed his face.

"Heh. And you expect me to buy that sob story?" the words came out sharper than intended. “Tch.”

He needed to erase that look on the runt’s face—needed to hear him beg or snarl or something that wasn’t this awful, fragile gaze, and then just leave him behind and find a new planet with better climate and, well, more fun. Like he usually do.

However, something infuriatingly like pity curled in Hater’s chest.

He didn’t like it. Hater didn’t do pity.

But he didn’t walk away either. Maybe he was just bored

“What’s your name, loser?”

“My name? Uh, well…” The alien paused, then hesitated. For a moment, he even looked ashamed “…I don’t have one yet.”

Hater rolled his eyes “Ugh. Fine. Then… You’re gonna be Peepers now. Cuz you keep peepin’ outta that trash pile like a creep.”

The alien— Peepers— blinked. His pupil dilated. No kicks? No beats? Not even mockery? And, wait, did this big skeleton just gave him actual name? What’s even happening?

But he didn't have time to gather all this questions together. The wind howled like a dying beast, whipping dust into Peepers eye.

He rubbed furiously. When he blinked, his expression snapped toward horizont.

Oh no. Peepers knew what that wind was. It can say only one thing: another storm is coming soon. On planets like Vorkent 9 it’s normal... not like he got used to it.

Hater's head snapped toward the horizon too. The bruise-red streaks had thickened into spirals, churning like fresh wound in the sky. A distant rumble cut the air.

The ground began to shake. It’s time to go. Soon, all this place gonna be covered with miles of unseen dust. And yet… He looked at Peepers again.

Leaving him on the planet like this meant certain death. Hater had doubted anyone could survive here in the first place. Don’t get him wrong, he loved tormenting others. Yet now, as he watched the alien scramble upright with that pathetic look still in his eye, something about this felt...off.

Hater's fingers twitched.

Suddenly, through gritted teeth, he growled:

“Get in” he pointed a thumb toward his van. His voice gritted against the rising wind, this time more serious, “I need a tool monkey anyway.”

“H-huh?” Peepers voice cracked, as if he couldn’t believe it “Wait… seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously.” a sheet of dust lashed formed against the van’s hull. Hater’s eye darted back to the storm. “You’re small, you’re quick, and you talk too much. Sounds useful.”

Peepers stumbled. Getting in a stranger’s van felt like stepping into a predator’s lair… but the storm was already near.

Lightning split the sky. Hater didn’t wait. He lunged for the van door, snarling over his shoulder:

“Alright, I’m leaving…”

The air already tasted like ozone. No ships. No shelters. Not a single soul. Just a growling sky and a very questionable offer. A quiet voice whisper in Peepers mind:

‘Tick-tock buddy. This planet’s about to blow’

Something wet trickled down Peepers temple. Sweat? Tears? Didn't matter. Survival instincts screamed as his boots scrabbled in the dust.

“NO WAIT, I CAN BE USEFUL—” the words tumbled out before Peepers could stop himself, pitched with panic “I-I’m very useful! You won’t regret it, I promise, I can be useful! Whatever, just—”

“SHUT IT AND MOVE” Hater roared, but kept the doors open. Thunder split the clouds like a warning.

And just like that, it began. A brat with a busted van and more power than sense and a stray without anybody near and any future.

Two nobodies found each other.

Note: How do you like the new design of the one-shots? Death glare is something that helps me with my writing block, and also my living. I like to think about their past. How they met each other and why Peepers adores Hater so much…Well, Whatchdogs are loyal. Maybe that’s why. Can I say that Hater saved Peepers? But not actually saved, just offered saving? And Peepers said yes and they became buddies.

Also, look at this adorable little boy😩💔

[delulu-julia]

WOY x reader in 2025!!!??? Is this heaven!!?? Seriously though, this is amazing!! There's like, barely any content for us self-shippers..😓 so, seeing your post made me sosososososo happy!! Your writing is peak!! Please write more, we're all very thankful!!🩷💕(And starving)

Thank you so much <333

And yes! when I first joined this fandom I was so upset that there were almost no self-shippers here. But the fact that this fandom is still alive makes me very, VERY happy. It’s nice to know that I'm not the only one who is a fan of a long-closed cartoon, makes me feel less lonely

Tbh I don't really have any ideas what to write about WOY right now, only a bunch of unfinished drafts, but expect for more content in the future

Also requests are always open if anything😉 Don’t be shy and send me smt!!

[delulu-julia]

Sooo...what's your next work in progress (・∇・)

For now… probably none. Sorry guys, I haven’t written a single request yet (also thank you very much for requesting <3) it was over a month or smt since the last post, but I just completely lost any motivation since then

I still can’t tell if i have a write block or if i just lost interest in tmnt

I just know I need more time before I can start writing again, so I can’t promise anything for now!!! And also my focus is more on the WOY then TMNT lately ;((

[delulu-julia]

Masterlist: WANDER OVER YONDER

I would be very happy for your like and repost! See the pined post, if you want to ask request 🩶

All 🌟🐴⚡️👁️

Nothing yet…

Wander🌟

Crushing headcanons

Sylvia🐴

Crushing headcanons

Lord Hater☠️⚡️

First meeting (Hater x Peepers)

Crushing headcanons (+mutual feelings)

Commander Peepers🖤👁️

First meeting (Hater x Peepers)

His dream partner (hcs)

[delulu-julia]

😦

Behold: My super awesome and cool rotoscoping skills developed at the ripe old age of 18

[delulu-julia]

No one has accepted my requests before. So this is my first request on this app, so I wonder if I can get a 2012 Raphael x reader. The reader is sarcastic, fiery and strong like raph. She has something in common with raph. And I wouldn't say no to a sweet ending :3

Personality match headcanons

(Raph x Fiery!Fem!Reader)

The first time you and Raph met, it was tense. Two spitfires in one room? Mikey swore he saw sparks fly

You two are always pushing each other’s buttons. Sarcasm is Raph’s second language. It’s your first.

Also Raph notices immediately that you’re not like April. You’re not the “girl in distress” type. You’re throwing punches, growling threats, and cursing the enemy under your breath. Yes, you are human, but you’re not weak, and its catch his eyes

You’re holding your own. Maybe using weapon, some martial art skills, or just sheer fists and fury. Raphael sees you slam a Foot ninja into a wall and goes “Huh. Not bad.”

…Then you round on him and snap “You gonna help or stand there like a big, green wall decoration?”

From that moment? There’re tension. Constant. Electricity. Borderline hostile flirting.

You and Raph have something in common: anger that comes too fast and runs too deep.

You both barked at each other mid mission, insulted each other’s combat form, and somehow still ended up fighting side by side

Training sessions turn into competition. “Sparring” turns into “almost murdering each other with staffs and fists”

Master Splinter pairs you with Raph during sparring one day. It backfires. Sort of. You and Raph spar like it’s the last championship match of your lives. Bruises, sweat, smirks. Then…

One night, after a particularly aggressive training session, you both collapse on the mat, panting. He nudges you and mutters:

“You fight angry”

“Takes one to know one.”

You lie there in silence. And that becomes the new rhythm. Maybe even a habit. Fight, teasing, rest beside each other without needing to talk

You matched his energy so naturally it unnerved him. Not many people could keep up with his tempo, especially in a fight. But there you were, flipping a Kraang over your shoulder and yelling “Try to keep up, Hothead!”

He muttered something snide in return, but he was watching you differently after that. That little smirk you wore? The one that said you meant every sarcastic jab but still had his back? Yeah, that messed him up a little.

Your banter became constant:

“Great aim, Raph. Were you trying to knock out the streetlight or was that just a bonus?”

“Oh yeah? At least I don’t trip over my own mouth like a clumsy smartass.”

…But somewhere along the way it became flirting. Neither of you would admit it.

You both had tempers. Deep emotions that boiled over fast. And that’s where the real bond began. You weren’t scared of his anger, you understood it. Your own wasn’t so different.

You saw through his scowl. Heard what he meant when he growled. Felt the way he softened whenever one of his brothers got hurt. That protective streak? You had it too.

Raph found himself coming to you when things got too loud. Why? Well, because you didn’t try to fix him or didn’t shush him like other did. You just let him be mad, then quietly passed him a cold bottle of water and said something like “Done pacing yet, big guy?”

This feeling of understanding is mutual. The first real vulnerability happens when you snap at the wrong person one day. Maybe Mikey, maybe Casey. Something triggered you and you explode. Raph doesn’t judge you. He doesn’t lecture. He finds you cooling off on a rooftop and says

“Y’know… when I get like that, I usually wanna be alone. But I don’t actually want to be alone.”

You nod. Don’t look at him. He sits beside you anyway. The silence between you isn’t awkward. It’s heavy, maybe. A little raw. But not uncomfortable.

Raph doesn’t fill it with forced apologies. He just lets you breathe. Like you do for him. You don’t say sorry either. You just sit there, wind tugging your closes, and eventually say

“I didn’t mean to go off like that.”

Raph shrugs. “Yeah, well. I get it.”

A pause. Then, suddenly, he says “…They always expect you to be the bigger person. Stay calm. Be rational. But when it’s you getting torn apart inside, suddenly you’re the problem.”

You glance at him. He’s staring out over the edge of the roof. Jaw tight, eyes darker than usual.

“You’re not the problem” he says. And he means it. You blink. That catches you off guard. No one’s said that to you before… not without a catch.

The moment he realised he liked you? It’s in the stillness, not in the chaos. Not when you’re fighting or yelling or teasing him, but somewhere at the lair, at the night, when the whole team is together. His brothers with April and Casey… and you. When you both were calm, and now as tv lights are on your face, eating some pizza, some comics are on the floor, and for the first time in forever… you’re quiet. Tired. Real. You were so casual. Just sitting there, and yet you still made him look at you. Even when you’re silent.

After that, the tension lowers. Fewer insults, more teasing. Less anger, more protective moments

Raph carries you out of a collapsing building once and doesn’t let go for like five minutes.

“Hey, you’re okay, right? You sure you’re fine?”

“Aw, you do care—”

“Shut up.”

After his realisation and all this events, you’ll notice changes. Like him giving you the last slice of pizza but growling “Don’t get used to it.” Or maybe punching a Kraang harder because it scratched your cheek

One night, after a particularly rough mission, you patch him up in the lair. He’s quiet. Still.

“You didn’t have to do that back there” he finally says “Take that hit for me.”

You shrug “What, you think I’d let you take it? Please. I’d never hear the end of it.”

You both sit in silence for a beat. Then he mutters. Very, very low —

“You’re not just some teammate, you know…”

────୨ৎ────

Lil bonus

One night, after a patrol, you two sneak away from the others.

The city hums below, but it’s quiet up here. The rooftop quiet. You and Raph sit on the edge, backs to a rusted water tower, watching stars blink between clouds.

No teasing tonight, no banter. Just the soft hush of wind and the warmth of his arm near yours.

He shifts, leans against the water tower, arms crossed, watching you like you’re the only thing that makes sense anymore. You scoot a little closer. Shoulder to shoulder. He clears his throat.

“I don’t do… feelings. Not good at ‘em.”

You smile gently. No smirk this time “You’re doing fine.”

He bumps your shoulder, more as a habit, but it’s soft “You’re a pain, y’know that?”

You bump back “You’re worse.”

A beat passes. Then, quieter:

“…Yeah. But I like you anyway.”

“Good” you murmur. “Cause I like you too.”

And he leans in. Fast, certain, and kisses you. Just once. It’s firm, honest and real.

You grin against his lips as he pulls back, your classic cocky smirk returning like it never left. He groans.

“What?”

You shrug, smug “Told you I’d win eventually.”

He covers his face with hand “Ughhh. I’m never hearing the end of this, am I?”

“Not a chance.”

And from the look on his face…He doesn’t mind one bit.

────୨ৎ────

A/n: I couldn't come up with a normal ending, in general this request turned out to be so chaotic. Usually I try to keep at least a small storyline, like keeping things/events to be in order, but here I just wrote everything that came to mind. Also why bonus? Well, it was too big to put it to into headcanons, and also I kinda didn’t like how I wrote it (felt a bit off for Raph’s personality) but also not to put it here felt unfair. so yeah, it’s you to decide to imagine that scene or not

[delulu-julia]

Lmao

I can confirm this happened 🤓☝️

[delulu-julia]

Y'know when someone requests a request with oc x canon but the writer doens't do oc x canon and only reader x canon? My tip for them would be to imagine the reader as their OC instead. I don't know why I'm sending you that I just saw you don't do oc and I tough that it'd be useful if anyone goes looking at your blog?

Yeah, exactly

[delulu-julia]

Glad you like it😘 🫶Oh and I would love to see your writing, be sure to tag me!!!!

~The moment he saw you…~

(Donnie x gn!reader)

Summary: One night, so-called Kraangs tried to kidnap you, but you’re not an easy target. Trained, sharp, and calm under pressure, you hold your own against the man’s in the black suits... What you don’t know is that four hidden figures are watching from above. Four mutant ninja turtles, complete stunned by your skill. One of them can’t take his eyes off you.

────୨ৎ────

New York was a dirty, intimidating city, especially at night. Crawling with rats, shadows, and strangers, it wasn’t exactly the best setting for an evening stroll…

But only if you were human. Only if you walked with the crowd instead of above it. From the rooftops, New York transformed into something else entirely. Steam curling from vents, neon signs flickering, tall multi-story buildings towering over the city, distant sirens howling like wolves across alleys. The city full of life and movement.

…At least, that’s what the four turtles liked to believe as they stood in the shadows above it all, observing the sleeping city.

The streets below lay in silence. Deceptively so. The kind of silence that meant something wasn’t right. Too heavy, like the entire block was holding its breath.

“Alright guys, it’s getting late” Leo’s voice broke through the stillness, calm but firm. “We should probably have back home.”

The others groaned in protest, pulling faces but offering no argument. If they stayed out any longer, Master Splinter would be frustrated. And they knew if that would happen, the old rat wouldn’t let them out again anytime soon. So they were just about to turn back, ready to leave…

“Guys—” Donnie gasp suddenly, eyes locked on the street below. He pointed. “…Look at that”

They followed his gaze. Down on the sidewalk, someone was walking alone.

It was you. Calm. Confident. Unaware. Eyes sharp and alert. Actually, nothing unusual or surprising was about you.

But Donnie… Donnie froze.

You didn’t see him. But he saw everything.

Donnie looked like someone had just punched him in the chest with Cupid’s bow.

The way you moved like you belonged to the city. The way your hand subtly drifted toward your side, eyes looking around with that calm, nonchalant gaze. The way little smile curled at your lips, your brows are up slightly…

“They’re the most pretty person I’ve ever seen…” Donnie muttered with blank expression, looking absolutely breathless.

“Isn’t that the… only person you’ve ever seen?” Raph asked, squinting at him with suspicion. Leo glanced at him too, shaking his head as if in mild disappointment. That snapped Donnie out of it.

“My point still stands” he said quickly, voice rising defensively, posture stiff with pride.

But then—

Movement.

White van rolled in from a nearby alley, large and unmarked. The truck driver got out, and at the same time side door slid open with a metallic grind. Four men stepped out.

At least… they looked like men. This four figures started approaching you. Seeing all this, you started to backing away.

“We gotta save them!” Donnie blurted seeing your expression, not waiting long, already stepping forward and ready to jump down… But Leo’s hand clamped firmly onto his shoulder, grounding him. The silent authority of an older brother.

“Splinter’s instructions were very clear” Leo said, steady. His voice cut clean through the urgency, and Donnie hesitated.

Leo straightened, raising one finger up to the sky and repeated Master Splinter's tone, wise and measured.

“We’re suppose to stay away from people… and bathrooms.”

He emphasized the last word with a strange solemnity, like that last part was the true sacred commandment. But his stance didn’t budge. He wasn’t joking.

The tension started to crack between them.

“I thought you wanted to be a hero?” Raph suddenly intervened, voice challenging, his glare sharp. “Since when the heroes asks for permissions?”

“They don’t, but—”

Leo turned, ready to argue with Raph, hands rising defensively…

“Guys! Wait!” Mikey suddenly cut in, pointing frantically down at the street. His eyes were huge. “Look—LOOK!”

All four green heads turned downward again, peering over the rooftop’s edge.

In a few moments, everything changed.

Four men had surrounded you. Tall, suited figures. All identical. Same stiff posture. Same cold expression. Same face.

Not normal.

The lead one lunged toward you.

And you moved. Fast.

Your elbow slammed upward into its jaw with brutal precision. It staggered, mechanical joints twitching unnaturally.

Another stepped in, grabbing your shoulder…Too slow. Your leg swept out, sending him crashing into the brick wall with a strange metal sound.

A third was behind, with raised gun. It was a truck driver.

…But you caught his wrist mid-motion, twisted it until some bone wasn’t cracking, at the same time taking gun and slamming it to the ground. A loud, painful scream went from man’s mouth, that turned into hoarse yelp the moment you slammed your fist into his chest.

The remaining two tried to close in, but you were already moving again. Ducking. Striking. Hitting hard, moving faster.

Within seconds, they were all down. You stood alone in the silence. Breath sharp and heavy. Hands still raised, stance tight and ready. But you wasn’t panicked or hurt.

Just… focused.

The suits didn’t rise again.

On the rooftop, the turtles stared, stunned into silence.

“…Whoa” Mikey breathed, jaw open.

“Did they just—” Raph blinked. “They’re fighting them off? Alone??”

Leo didn’t speak. His gaze stayed locked on you.

And Donatello? His mouth had fallen open. It felt like something heavy had hit his chest, something sharp and glowing and new.

You weren’t just surviving. You were winning.

Moving like someone who had trained for this. Who had lived for this. The way your eyes burned with focus, the rhythm of your breath between hits, the control in every strike—

Donatello’s pulse hammered.

You were incredible.

Leo’s voice came low, amazed. “They might actually make it…”

“We need to help them” Donnie said, almost to himself. He could barely hear others at this moment

“Are you serious?” Raph scoffed. “They’re doing fine.”

“No.” Donatello’s grip tightened around his bo. “We can’t just watch… what if they get overwhelmed? What if—”

He surged to his feet, every inch of him pulled forward.

“I’m going in.”

“Donnie, wait—!” Leo called after him, but Donnie was already gone. Only blur of green and purple as he leapt into the night.

You had taken down the last one. Its disguise flickered. Static buzzing across its face before it crumpled to the pavement with a heavy thud.

That wasn’t a man.

You didn’t have time to process it. Because something moved overhead. A flicker of shadow. A shift in the wind.

You spun on instinct, fists raised, body ready for another wave… And came face to face with something that made your entire spine lock.

Something dropped from the sky and landed in front of you.

Tall. Green skin. Purple mask. A bo staff in his hand.

Not human.

Your pulse spiked. You lurched backward, defensive again. His wide eyes blinked at you from behind a purple mask, surprise written all over his face.

“—No no no no! Don’t worry!” the turtle blurted, both hands flying up in the air. “We’re the good guys! It’s okay!”

You didn’t lower your guard… not yet. Your eyes flicked to the weapon in his hand, to the way his stance was ready. Trained.

You blinked.

He blinked.

“…Hi” he said awkwardly. And then, before he could stop himself:

“You’re incredible.”

You stared at him, panting, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.

Turtle.

Armed. Muscle. Mutant.

Your jaw twitched.

“You’re… a turtle?”

“Yeah…” he said sheepishly, motioning vaguely behind him. “…So are my brothers”

As if on cue, three more landed. One by one from the fire escape above, weapons drawn, each of them silent. They looked almost similar to you, but the colored masks set them apart.

The one in red mask crossed his arms and gave you a hard look, like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or suspicious.

The blue-masked one sized you up carefully, eyes narrowed, as if not knowing should he approach you or not.

The orange one just grinned and waved at you like this was all perfectly normal.

You stiffened again. But the tall one, he didn’t move. His bo stayed lowered. His eyes never left you.

“You’re human… I mean, obviously you are” he said again, smiling nervously, like he had to say it out loud to believe it. “But the way you…you just— you fought them so effortless”

You met his eyes. He was curious and cautious. Then you asked, low and ready

“Are you going to fight me too?”

“No!” he said quickly, panicking a little. “No, no, no—don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you.”

He fumbled with his words, hands flailing slightly, voice cracking under the weight of sincerity.

“I just— I saw you down here alone. You were outnumbered, and I thought…”

“I had it handled” you said simply. There was no pride in your voice, just quiet certainty.

He blinked, looking at you. After the moment, he rubbed the back of his neck, and letting out a soft laugh “Yeah. Yeah, I noticed.”

A beat of silence passed. You blinked.

And then—

The faintest tug of a smile curved your lips.

Donatello went still. He could felt his knees go weak.

Seeing you like this made something to his brain chemistry. You were smiling. At him.

Whole world stoped existing at this moment. There was only you, looking at him, with those pretty smile of your…

But the moment didn’t last.

Noise behind you. You looked back. The van engine growled, still running, and more of those identical figures were stepping out. Five. Six. Seven. Their faces were still wrong, too smooth and too empty.

Not human.

You heard the sound, the metal rang out. The unmistakable sound of weapons being drawn.

You gaze went ahead again. All four turtles had taken defensive stances. The one in red twirled his sai. Blue’s blades gleamed in the low light. Orange swinged his nunchucks like he’d been waiting all night for this. And Purple…

He stepped slightly in front of you.

“Stay close” he said, voice steadier now. Focused. Protective.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just a little amused. That was cute.

He immediately flustered but held his ground, his grip tightening on his bo staff.

He wasn’t ready to fight you. He was ready to fight with you.

And you? You turned calmly toward the van. Face steady. Breath slow. You could feel it, the rhythm of the next fight.

This time, you weren’t alone.

────୨ৎ────

A/n: Seeing this request first time I immediately remember April’s scene with Kraangs and her dad kidnapping, and only after rereading it, when I already wrote some drafts I understood that you asked for Foot soldiers, but decided to keep it as it was so yeah hope it won’t be a big problem. Also, I didn’t know what to write, headcanons or a scene, and wrote a scene this time. I understood that I prefer writing headcanons because it’s usually more simple and funnier than the whole fic. But I would like to hear your opinion. Also I’m dumbass and didn’t answer directly to the request and didn’t want to rewrite the draft because of it, so the original request is down there 👇

[delulu-julia]

~The moment he saw you…~

(Donnie x gn!reader)

Summary: One night, so-called Kraangs tried to kidnap you, but you’re not an easy target. Trained, sharp, and calm under pressure, you hold your own against the man’s in the black suits... What you don’t know is that four hidden figures are watching from above. Four mutant ninja turtles, complete stunned by your skill. One of them can’t take his eyes off you.

────୨ৎ────

New York was a dirty, intimidating city, especially at night. Crawling with rats, shadows, and strangers, it wasn’t exactly the best setting for an evening stroll…

But only if you were human. Only if you walked with the crowd instead of above it. From the rooftops, New York transformed into something else entirely. Steam curling from vents, neon signs flickering, tall multi-story buildings towering over the city, distant sirens howling like wolves across alleys. The city full of life and movement.

…At least, that’s what the four turtles liked to believe as they stood in the shadows above it all, observing the sleeping city.

The streets below lay in silence. Deceptively so. The kind of silence that meant something wasn’t right. Too heavy, like the entire block was holding its breath.

“Alright guys, it’s getting late” Leo’s voice broke through the stillness, calm but firm. “We should probably have back home.”

The others groaned in protest, pulling faces but offering no argument. If they stayed out any longer, Master Splinter would be frustrated. And they knew if that would happen, the old rat wouldn’t let them out again anytime soon. So they were just about to turn back, ready to leave…

“Guys—” Donnie gasp suddenly, eyes locked on the street below. He pointed. “…Look at that”

They followed his gaze. Down on the sidewalk, someone was walking alone.

It was you. Calm. Confident. Unaware. Eyes sharp and alert. Actually, nothing unusual or surprising was about you.

But Donnie… Donnie froze.

You didn’t see him. But he saw everything.

Donnie looked like someone had just punched him in the chest with Cupid’s bow.

The way you moved like you belonged to the city. The way your hand subtly drifted toward your side, eyes looking around with that calm, nonchalant gaze. The way little smile curled at your lips, your brows are up slightly…

“They’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen…” Donnie muttered with blank expression, looking absolutely breathless.

“Isn’t that the… only person you’ve ever seen?” Raph asked, squinting at him with suspicion. Leo glanced at him too, shaking his head as if in mild disappointment. That snapped Donnie out of it.

“My point still stands” he said quickly, voice rising defensively, posture stiff with pride.

But then—

Movement.

White van rolled in from a nearby alley, large and unmarked. The truck driver got out, and at the same time side door slid open with a metallic grind. Four men stepped out.

At least… they looked like men. This four figures started approaching you. Seeing all this, you started to backing away.

“We gotta save them!” Donnie blurted seeing your expression, not waiting long, already stepping forward and ready to jump down… But Leo’s hand clamped firmly onto his shoulder, grounding him. The silent authority of an older brother.

“Splinter’s instructions were very clear” Leo said, steady. His voice cut clean through the urgency, and Donnie hesitated.

Leo straightened, raising one finger up to the sky and repeated Master Splinter's tone, wise and measured.

“We’re suppose to stay away from people… and bathrooms.”

He emphasized the last word with a strange solemnity, like that last part was the true sacred commandment. But his stance didn’t budge. He wasn’t joking.

The tension started to crack between them.

“I thought you wanted to be a hero?” Raph suddenly intervened, voice challenging, his glare sharp. “Since when the heroes asks for permissions?”

“They don’t, but—”

Leo turned, ready to argue with Raph, hands rising defensively…

“Guys! Wait!” Mikey suddenly cut in, pointing frantically down at the street. His eyes were huge. “Look—LOOK!”

All four green heads turned downward again, peering over the rooftop’s edge.

In a few moments, everything changed.

Four men had surrounded you. Tall, suited figures. All identical. Same stiff posture. Same cold expression. Same face.

Not normal.

The lead one lunged toward you.

And you moved. Fast.

Your elbow slammed upward into its jaw with brutal precision. It staggered, mechanical joints twitching unnaturally.

Another stepped in, grabbing your shoulder…Too slow. Your leg swept out, sending him crashing into the brick wall with a strange metal sound.

A third was behind, with raised gun. It was a truck driver.

…But you caught his wrist mid-motion, twisted it until some bone wasn’t cracking, at the same time taking gun and slamming it to the ground. A loud, painful scream went from man’s mouth, that turned into hoarse yelp the moment you slammed your fist into his chest.

The remaining two tried to close in, but you were already moving again. Ducking. Striking. Hitting hard, moving faster.

Within seconds, they were all down. You stood alone in the silence. Breath sharp and heavy. Hands still raised, stance tight and ready. But you wasn’t panicked or hurt.

Just… focused.

The suits didn’t rise again.

On the rooftop, the turtles stared, stunned into silence.

“…Whoa” Mikey breathed, jaw open.

“Did they just—” Raph blinked. “They’re fighting them off? Alone??”

Leo didn’t speak. His gaze stayed locked on you.

And Donatello? His mouth had fallen open. It felt like something heavy had hit his chest, something sharp and glowing and new.

You weren’t just surviving. You were winning.

Moving like someone who had trained for this. Who had lived for this. The way your eyes burned with focus, the rhythm of your breath between hits, the control in every strike—

Donatello’s pulse hammered.

You were incredible.

Leo’s voice came low, amazed. “They might actually make it…”

“We need to help them” Donnie said, almost to himself. He could barely hear others at this moment

“Are you serious?” Raph scoffed. “They’re doing fine.”

“No.” Donatello’s grip tightened around his bo. “We can’t just watch… what if they get overwhelmed? What if—”

He surged to his feet, every inch of him pulled forward.

“I’m going in.”

“Donnie, wait—!” Leo called after him, but Donnie was already gone. Only blur of green and purple as he leapt into the night.

You had taken down the last one. Its disguise flickered. Static buzzing across its face before it crumpled to the pavement with a heavy thud.

That wasn’t a man.

You didn’t have time to process it. Because something moved overhead. A flicker of shadow. A shift in the wind.

You spun on instinct, fists raised, body ready for another wave… And came face to face with something that made your entire spine lock.

Something dropped from the sky and landed in front of you.

Tall. Green skin. Purple mask. A bo staff in his hand.

Not human.

Your pulse spiked. You lurched backward, defensive again. His wide eyes blinked at you from behind a purple mask, surprise written all over his face.

“—No no no no! Don’t worry!” the turtle blurted, both hands flying up in the air. “We’re the good guys! It’s okay!”

You didn’t lower your guard… not yet. Your eyes flicked to the weapon in his hand, to the way his stance was ready. Trained.

You blinked.

He blinked.

“…Hi” he said awkwardly. And then, before he could stop himself:

“You’re incredible.”

You stared at him, panting, trying to make sense of what you were seeing.

Turtle.

Armed. Muscle. Mutant.

Your jaw twitched.

“You’re… a turtle?”

“Yeah…” he said sheepishly, motioning vaguely behind him. “…So are my brothers”

As if on cue, three more landed. One by one from the fire escape above, weapons drawn, each of them silent. They looked almost similar to you, but the colored masks set them apart.

The one in red mask crossed his arms and gave you a hard look, like he wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or suspicious.

The blue-masked one sized you up carefully, eyes narrowed, as if not knowing should he approach you or not.

The orange one just grinned and waved at you like this was all perfectly normal.

You stiffened again. But the tall one, he didn’t move. His bo stayed lowered. His eyes never left you.

“You’re human… I mean, obviously you are” he said again, smiling nervously, like he had to say it out loud to believe it. “But the way you…you just— you fought them so effortless”

You met his eyes. He was curious and cautious. Then you asked, low and ready

“Are you going to fight me too?”

“No!” he said quickly, panicking a little. “No, no, no—don’t worry. We’re not here to hurt you.”

He fumbled with his words, hands flailing slightly, voice cracking under the weight of sincerity.

“I just— I saw you down here alone. You were outnumbered, and I thought…”

“I had it handled” you said simply. There was no pride in your voice, just quiet certainty.

He blinked, looking at you. After the moment, he rubbed the back of his neck, and letting out a soft laugh “Yeah. Yeah, I noticed.”

A beat of silence passed. You blinked.

And then—

The faintest tug of a smile curved your lips.

Donatello went still. He could felt his knees go weak.

Seeing you like this made something to his brain chemistry. You were smiling. At him.

Whole world stoped existing at this moment. There was only you, looking at him, with those pretty smile of your…

But the moment didn’t last.

Noise behind you. You looked back. The van engine growled, still running, and more of those identical figures were stepping out. Five. Six. Seven. Their faces were still wrong, too smooth and too empty.

Not human.

You heard the sound, the metal rang out. The unmistakable sound of weapons being drawn.

You gaze went ahead again. All four turtles had taken defensive stances. The one in red twirled his sai. Blue’s blades gleamed in the low light. Orange swinged his nunchucks like he’d been waiting all night for this. And Purple…

He stepped slightly in front of you.

“Stay close” he said, voice steadier now. Focused. Protective.

You raised an eyebrow at him, just a little amused. That was cute.

He immediately flustered but held his ground, his grip tightening on his bo staff.

He wasn’t ready to fight you. He was ready to fight with you.

And you? You turned calmly toward the van. Face steady. Breath slow. You could feel it, the rhythm of the next fight.

This time, you weren’t alone.

────୨ৎ────

A/n: Seeing this request first time I immediately remember April’s scene with Kraangs and her dad kidnapping, and only after rereading it, when I already wrote some drafts I understood that you asked for Foot soldiers, but decided to keep it as it was so yeah hope it won’t be a big problem. Also, I didn’t know what to write, headcanons or a scene, and wrote a scene this time. I understood that I prefer writing headcanons because it’s usually more simple and funnier than the whole fic. But I would like to hear your opinion. Also I’m dumbass and didn’t answer directly to the request and didn’t want to rewrite the draft because of it, so the original request is down there 👇

[delulu-julia]

I have 5 drafts now and 3 of them are requests. Most of them are unfinished and not very fresh (at least a month old since it was requested 😓) and one draft is almost finished. Now doing 2 stories in parallel, also trying to finish that one that almost finished and it's feels like my brain is about to blow lmao but I can’t stop. If I put this all off until later I'm afraid I'll be lazy again and just give it up for another month, and it’ll make my anxiety just kill me. But for now I want to write something and I’ll write until I get actually tired

Haven’t felt that way since last summer when I worked overtime as a waitress all day and walked dogs for money at the mornings before hahaha. All busy busy

[delulu-julia]

Turtle’s S/O breaks down toward him

(Romantic, female reader.)

A/N: Yeaah, I missed angst!! Actually I did this request long ago I just didn’t like how it looked. Now I fixed it a lil so it would looked more pleasant and decided to post it (finally). Also there was a request in my box, but idk why I can’t answer at it directly, so it will be below after all the reactions as a screenshot. Enjoy!

Leonardo

It’s late. The dojo is empty. Except of you. You’ve been sitting there, under the tree, eyes unfocused, watching something non existent in the wall. No big expression on your face. You haven’t moved in a while. Leo watches from the doorway, arms crossed, pretending he isn’t hesitating.

He walks in without a word, the mats muffle his steps.

He kneels beside you, not too close, but enough to see your whole figure. And for a moment you both sit in silence, bathed in the soft hum of lair lighting.

Then quietly, he asks:

“You’ve been quiet all night. Are you okay?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

And your shoulders begin to shake.

Headcanons

Leonardo see something was wrong hours before you sat alone in the dojo. He always does.

Your posture was different. The way your eyes flickered but never truly focused. The way your laughter sounded like you were mimicking what laughter should sound like. Everything was fake as hell.

He didn’t push. Not right away. Leo is patient. He wants to believe that if you would be really bothered, you’ll come to him yourself. He doesn't want to be intrusive or annoying. He just watches.

But when you disappeared, and dinner passed without you, and the laughter of his brothers faded into static noise around him, he couldn’t stay seated. The empty seat at the table pulled harder than any mission ever had.

He finds you under the tree in the dojo, that quiet place meant for centering, for breathing… but your chest isn’t rising with any of that peace. You’re still. Stiff. Hollow.

There’s something sacred about your silence, and he treats it like a ceremony. No loud entrance. No demand. Just a quiet kneel beside you, his swordless side facing you.

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong. That question is too big. He just asks if you’re okay, and the moment your breath stutters, his whole body stills.

He doesn’t touch you. Not yet. He’s learned the difference between needing space and needing shelter.

…But the second your shoulders start to shake, not sobbing, just that trembling kind of grief that wants to stay hidden, his hand is there. Not on your back, but a palm-up between you, as an offer. If you take it, he holds it like it’s made of porcelain. Steady and quiet.

You won’t see it, but under all this wise gaze and strong hand of his, the moment he hears you sobbing, there is a huge worry rising inside him. He tries to look calm as if not feeling all this tightness in his chest. There is already bad thoughts in his mind ‘Did someone hurt her?’ or ‘Did I do something wrong?’

You whisper things like “I feel so alone” and “No one sees me” or “I’d give everything for people who wouldn’t do the same.” and Leo looked at you and exhales like it hurts to hear it.

Okay, no one touched you, it’s good… But still, you’re hurt and sad, and you need his help. He watches you, the way you cry and shake, and his grip on your hand tightened. You could read everything in his eyes that moment. Worry, empathy, sadness, understanding and love. This thought made him feel bad even more. You needed him.

He doesn’t say I understand (because he knows it won’t help) instead, he speaks gently about how he has felt that way too. The pressure. The loneliness. The endless quiet responsibility

“You don’t have to earn love by giving everything away.”

“You’re not invisible to me.”

And when your tears finally fall, he stays with you, not trying to fix it, but simply holding the moment still. Letting you break without a fear of being drowned.

Later, when you stops crying and dojo feels a little less heavy, he stays beside you, your head resting gently on his shoulder. His thumb brushing your knuckles.

He doesn’t make you promise you’re fine. He knows you’re not. Instead, he says

“Next time it gets this bad… you don’t have to sit alone. You can ask me… I’ll never say no to you”

After that night, he’ll check you differently. No more vague “You good?”. It becomes “Are you holding up?” or “Do you want me me to come to you?”

He becomes more intentional with his care. Leaving sweet treats to you, inviting you to meditate with him, silently training beside you. He hopes that doing all this will make you feel less lonely.

He wants to understand you, even the parts you barely let yourself feel. If you’ll ask him to leave, he will. If you’ll ask him to be next to you, he’ll come immediately. He needs to protect you, to make you feel safe. And seeing you in this state will make him feel like he’s doing not enough.

Raphael

Raph noticed it during training.

You were off. Slower. Distracted. And not in the “goofing off with Mikey” way, more like the “your head is somewhere far, far away” kind.

After the others clear out, Raph lingers by the punching bags, arms folded tight across his chest. You don’t leave. You just sit there on the mats, staring at the wall.

He walks over, pretending he’s annoyed.

“You gonna sit there sulking all night?”

No answer.

He squints, eyes narrowing, tone softening.

“…Hey. Look at me. What’s goin’ on?”

You glance up, eyes wet.

He curses under his breath and kneels beside you, suddenly unsure what to do with his hands.

Headcanons

Raph’s always been sharp with your mood changes, he notices things like your body language, tone, eye contact. So when you miss a block or flinch at Leo’s voice, he clocks it instantly

During training, he keeps glancing at you between moves. He hits harder than usual. His frustration is brewing. You keep being quiet, and he doesn’t know why

He doesn’t know how to help people who won’t say what’s wrong. It’s a feeling he knows too well. Maybe that’s why it kinda scares him.

When the others finally leave, he doesn’t say anything at first. Just grabs a towel. Watches you sit on the floor like you’re made of stone.

He walks over slow, posturing like he’s annoyed just to keep the vulnerability out of his throat. “You gonna sit there sulking all night?” And when you don’t answer, something in him wavers. His voice drops lower, rougher. “…Hey. Look at me. What’s goin’ on?”

And then he sees your eyes. Red. Shiny. Your lip trembling. That look he knows, the one you get when you’re trying so hard not to fall apart.

“…Shit” he mutters, instantly dropping to one knee like your pain punched him in the gut. His hands hover. He doesn’t want to touch you wrong, doesn’t want to make it worse.

You whisper something like “I’m just so tired of feeling like this. Like I’m the only one who—” And he cuts in gently:

“You’re not. You ain’t… Not anymore.”

He’s not good with soft words, but he’s good with presence, so he stays. Close. Solid. If you lean into him, he lets you. If you cry, he lets you.

He doesn’t shush you. Doesn’t tell you to stop. Just mutters things like

“I hate seein’ you like this…”

“You don’t have to be strong all the damn time, y’know?”

“You always take care of everyone else. Lemme take care of you, for once.”

His hand ends up around yours, big and calloused but warm. The grip is firm, grounding. His way of saying you’re not alone.

After the breakdown, he doesn’t make you talk more than you want. He just sits there with you, maybe puts your head on his shoulder, lets the dojo go quiet.

In the days after, he checks in way more than usual, but clumsily. Like “You eat yet?” when he means “You look tired. Are you okay today?”

…Or “You sleep at all last night?” when he means “I heard you crying in your room, and it’s killin’ me.”

He gets protective. Over-affectionate in his own way. Always hovering near, brushing your hair back without a word, standing closer when someone else talks to you.

If you bottle things up again, he notices faster. Doesn’t let you sink.

“Don’t do that thing where you pretend everything’s fine.”

You become the one person he’ll drop his guard for completely. When you hurt, he hurts too. And he’d rather punch down 100 Kraangs than see you break again, unless your tears in his presence are the only way you find peace.

And whenever you apologize for being “too much” or “weak” he snaps gently:

“You’re not weak. You’re human. You humans always think you are weak… But you, you are not. I love you for all of it, even that messy part.”

Donatello

Donnie sees you when he passes by the dojo, with a data pad. You’re usually quick to wave. Smile. Say something.

Tonight? You don’t even glance at him.

He pauses. Watches. Frowns.

He puts the pad down, walks inside slowly, like he’s entering a sacred space. You’re sitting with your arms around your knees, chin tucked down. Quiet and still.

He sits beside you but says nothing at first. Then, after a pause:

“Something’s wrong.”

Your lip trembles. You turn your face away fast, but not fast enough.

“Hey—wait—what’s—are you… are you crying?”

Headcanons

Donnie notices the shift in your energy like a change in air pressure. It’s subtle, but he’s attuned to your rhythm. The little glances, the warm “Hey, genius” the way you usually brighten his presence.

When he walks by the dojo and you don’t respond? His brain crashes a little. He stops mid-scan of a data pad, rereads the same diagnostic line three times, and doesn’t process a word.

He lingers in the doorway at first. Hoping you’ll notice him. Hoping this is just one of your quiet moods. But your stillness feels wrong. It’s not peaceful.

He sets the pad down with exaggerated care, like any sudden movement might shatter you.

Walking into the dojo feels like trespassing. The lighting hums, the shadows stretch, and you sit curled in on yourself like you’re trying to disappear.

He sits down slowly, keeping just enough space between you to not overwhelm you. Doesn’t speak for a full minute. Just listens. Watches. Then gently: “Something’s wrong.”

You flinch when he says it. Your body tightens. You turn away, but not before he sees it. The tears building, the ones you never let him see. His voice catches. “Wait—are you… are you crying?”

Panic floods him, but not the loud one. The helpless kind. The kind where he doesn’t know what to do with his hands, or how to fix this pain with circuits or solder.

He moves in a little closer, voice softer now, nervous but determined

“Hey, it’s okay—just, talk to me. Please?”

And when you do, when the words start to fall out, messy and trembling about feeling invisible, replaceable, like you’d give everything for people who wouldn’t do the same, he winces. Because he gets it. Too well.

He reaches out, hesitant at first, and rests a hand gently on your back, careful, warm, no pressure.

“…I don’t think you know how much you matter” he says quietly “Not just to me. To all of us. But especially… especially me.”

You cry harder. And Donnie doesn’t back away. He leans in closer, lets you bury your face in his shoulder if you need. His arms wrap around you, not tight but solid, grounding. He sways a little without realizing.

In his mind, he’s already scanning your words, filing them like sensitive data. Remember: she feels unseen. Lonely. Make sure to validate. Often. Gently.

Afterward, he doesn’t leave your side for hours. He makes you tea. He sets down every tool. Cancels every project. He quietly rewrites your place in his life. Not just someone he loves, but someone he needs to protect.

He starts being more emotionally present after. Less buried in machines, more touch, more small check-ins.

And every time you hesitate to speak up, he gently reaches for your hand and says: “You don’t have to bottle it. I’ve got the bandwidth, I swear.”

He builds a little weighted blanket for you. Says it’s “a sensory-calibrated prototype.” It’s actually just him trying to help you sleep better when the feelings get too loud.

If you ever start crying again, he no longer asks why right away. He just pulls you close and says “You don’t have to explain. I’m here.”

Michelangelo

Mikey’s jokes aren’t landing.

You’re usually the first to laugh. Loud, snorting, unfiltered. But tonight, he’s thrown out three solid puns and you haven’t even smiled.

He trails after you, expression growing more uncertain by the second, until you finally sit down at the edge of the dojo and stare blankly at the floor. Mikey watches from a few steps back.

“…Hey, sunshine? Where’d your sparkle go?”

You shake your head. He walks over, crouches in front of you, resting his chin on your knee.

“You’re kinda scaring me, y’know.”

When you sniffle, he gently bumps his forehead to yours.

“You don’t gotta fake it with me.”

You break.

Headcanons

Mikey notices something is wrong the first time his joke doesn’t affect you. He doesn’t panic immediately, just throws out another, even goofier pun. When that doesn’t work either, he tries physical comedy. Dramatic flop onto the couch. Zero smile. He pauses. Looks over. Eyes narrow.

Mikey normally brings joy, but this time… it doesn’t work. And that’s how he knows.

He starts following you, quietly at first, watching your expression. The way you’re unusually still. The way your gaze slides off people like you’re somewhere else entirely.

You sit at the edge of the dojo. Blank. Quiet. And suddenly it’s like someone turned the sound down on his world. Mikey’s heart sinks. Your silence makes the world feel so wrong.

He doesn’t joke again. He just walks over and crouches low, like a kid trying to peek under a locked door. His voice is quieter than usual, uncharacteristically gentle: “…Hey, sunshine? Where’d your sparkle go?”

You don’t answer. He doesn’t rush you. He places his chin on your knee like a tired puppy, not to cheer you up, but to make him more visible to you. To let you know he’s there.

“You’re kinda scaring me, y’know.” He says it with a little laugh, but there’s truth in it. He hates when people pretend they’re okay when they’re not. He sees it too often in his brothers.

And when you sniffle, trying to hide it, he bumps his forehead gently to yours.

That’s when it crumbles. You sob. Sharp, quiet, sudden, like a balloon popped inside your chest.

Mikey pulls you into him instantly. No hesitation. Arms wide, warmth full. He wraps around you like armor made of comfort.

“Shhh, shhh, I got you. I got you.”

He doesn’t ask what’s wrong right away, just holds you. Rubs your back in slow circles. Sways slightly. He knows talking comes after safety.

When you do speak, about feeling invisible, about being the one who’s always “on” always cheering others but never feeling seen, he clutches you tighter.

“That’s not true. You light up the whole dang lair. And when you dim, we all feel it.”

Mikey is probably the first to cry with you. Soft tears, no drama. Just open empathy. He feels everything you’re saying and wishes he could carry it for you

Afterward, he doesn’t let you go far. You’re under blanket-watch. Favorite snacks. Silly cartoons. Long hugs.

And when he makes jokes now, they’re lighter. Softer. Sometimes just for you. And you can tell: he’s not trying to fix you, he’s just trying to remind you that you’re not alone, as long as you’re with him.

He starts validating you more, every day. Out of nowhere.

“You know you matter, right?”

“I’m serious. You’re, like, cosmic jellybean-level important.”

You’ll catch him watching you sometimes. Not with worry, but with wonder. Like he’s memorising your face.

“Next time you feel like you’re fading?” he says one night, curled up beside you. “Don’t go quiet. Just… come find me. I’ll remind you how loud your heart really is.”

The original request:

[delulu-julia]

hey! this is my first request eveer in this app, so excuse my inexperience! If you don't mind, what are your thoughts in a shinobu-like reader with the tmnt 2012? I mean someone who specializes in poisons/chemisty, has a smaller build and is sweet on the outside, but somewhat more sinister on the inside? Take your time, and have a great day!

Tmnt 2012 x Shinobu!Reader (Demon slayer)

(gn reader)

Okay so basically this request brought me back to live and made me want to write something after a while so yeah thank you very muchhh (Also you made me realise that I want to rewatch this anime. Anyway enjoy)

Leonardo

"You’re… oddly calm for someone who could kill us all with a teaspoon."

At first, Leo is unsure whether to admire or fear you.

He’s drawn to your precision. Your movements, your speech, your choices. Everything feels intentional. That discipline commands his respect. Your kind demeanor clashes with your skill set, and it unsettles him in a way he can’t ignore

But still, your sweetness bothers him. He senses something off and it’s makes him feel aware even more.

When he learns you’re a chemist and poison expert, he mentally marks you as dangerous and then immediately scolds himself for the thought

He tries to treat you as an equal in group but is often caught watching you closely, trying to read the layers beneath your soft voice.

When you talk about toxins or deadly compounds with a serene smile, he listens intently… then asks, too quickly: “Have you ever actually used that on someone?” The way you talk about poisons while smiling so gently makes him tense

You saved his life by poisoning a Foot assassin mid-battle. He can’t stop thinking about it. He kinda owes you now, and it’s makes him nervous

Also, about saving lifes. He never actually thought of you as a real fighter… well, because you seemed to be small, soft spoken and kinda gentle. Not the set for someone who can stand for themself’s

So the second he saw you in danger, he rush to save you, not thinking much

“Stand back, we’ll handle—“

…but then you just dismantle your attackers with terrifying efficiency. You drop three ninjas in the time it takes him to blink. His ego takes a hit.

The idea of someone so delicate-looking wielding deadly knowledge fascinates and worries him. He trains harder around you, half to impress, half to remind himself he could stop you if he had to.

Later, he quietly asks you to spar, claiming it’s "…To learn your techniques" (actually he just wants to understand you more… and also kinda testing himself against you)

By the way, you beat him in a duel, flipping him onto his shell with a well-placed kick. He spends three days reworking his entire fighting style because of you

Don’t worry, after a while he’ll accept you, when he realizes he trusts you deeply. In his eyes, you’re the kind of warrior who chooses calm, rather than needing to fight for it.

But no matter how long you’ll be in their team, Leo will always watch you carefully. Not because he thinks of betrayal, but because he senses the storm behind the still water. There will be always something unspoken about you that he can’t understand, but he wants to so badly. What made you be like this?

He doesn’t always understand your colder decisions (like neutralizing enemies permanently) but he learns to appreciate your reasoning, even when it frightens him

If romance builds, it’s slow. A gesture here, a shared stare there. No unnecessary words or big actions. One time you gently adjusts his bandana and it undoes him for the whole week

If you’re ever injured, his protective instincts spike tenfold. Not because he sees you as weak, but because he knows how many masks you wears to hide your limits

You two have deep conversations about morality (once he’ll trust you enough) about control, and what it means to “protect”

Donatello

"Your knowledge of alkaloids is… breathtaking."

The second he hears you work with poisons, he launches into a ramble about toxins, neurotoxins, antidotes, hoping to impress.

When you keep up or even correct him, it stuns him. He falls in love a little right there.

You critique his formulas in front of April. His pride is bruised

Instantly obsessed. You’re the only person who understands his rants about molecular structures

Donnie is deeply curious about your work, constantly trying to pick apart how you isolate toxins or stabilize volatile substances, so expect him to be next to you all the time

"Hypothetically… would you ever consider… joint research?"

He offers you access to his lab space, a huge gesture for him. And you treat it with careful respect, always cleaning up after yourself and labeling things in perfect handwriting. You’re so gentle with him it makes him craving your attention 24/7

You sometimes tease him for being messy in his notes and not mixing some chemicals right. He teases back about your disturbingly cheerful way of describing neurotoxins.

The moment he sees your fighting, he’s quietly horrified. Torn between awe and dismay when you use a contact poison to paralyze an enemy mid-strike

"Wait, did they just… Hold on, are they actually using some tetrodotoxin on him right now?— Holy shell, that’s… Fascinating”

Calculates the physics of your moves in real-time. The numbers don’t add up—

He’ll beg you to teach him how to weaponize chemistry like you do. You give him fake formulas just to mess with him, but he’ll appreciate it so much that he won’t even notice it at first

The only thing that unsettles him is how calm you are in the face of pain. He once sees you get grazed by an enemy’s blade, you treat the wound like it’s nothing.

So yeah, of course he notices that something’s wrong under that smile. Your cheerful tone never quite reaches your eyes. It bothers him, but he can’t bring himself to ask… yet.

I mean he aware of your darker edge since the beginning, and he respects it. After all, he has his own obsessive streaks and dangerous ideas

He sometimes worries about what you’re capable of, but he trusts your intentions more than his fear.

One day, you make him a custom sedative for his migraine. It’s harmless. Kind. Useful. He keeps the empty vial like a love letter.

Sooner or later you’ll start geeking out together in his lab. Your interactions are charged with quiet admiration and late-night experiments. Your lab conversations are dangerously flirty. Soft laughter, subtle compliments masked as “scientific observations.”

Eventually, he realizes he’s falling for you, not just for your mind, but for how carefully you keep control. It’s terrifying and beautiful. Can’t tell if it’s actual crush tho. I mean, for Donnie you are perfect. You are kind, smart, gentle, incredibly dangerous but at the same time not so simple. I would say you’re more like a role model for him

In fact, he wants to solve you as much as some super difficult math problem. He is just incredibly curious about the part of you that you so desperately hide, and if you tell him even a little about your trauma or origins, he will be so, so happy. He’ll listen like it’s sacred. No judgment. Only quiet understanding and softly murmured

Raphael

At first, Raph does not trust you, not even a little. You’re too quiet. Too calm. Too clean. Something about you makes his instincts itch.

That’s why he watches you more than anyone else. You literally can catch his gaze every time you look at him. Every. Time. The more he learns about you, the more he suspects.

Don’t think he hates you tho. He admire skills, and you’ve got plenty. What unnerves him is how you hide it behind soft laughter and polite nods.

You have the strongest dynamics from all. You clash at first: sarcasm vs politeness. You, with all your pretty smile and logical responses sometimes drive him nuts.

It means you argue a lot. You never yell at him back, your answers either super polite, either super sarcastic. He notices how you never flinch at his temper. In fact, you laugh, never taking his anger seriously, making him feel dumb.

But don’t worry, after a few sharp-edged missions together, a begrudging respect forms. It doesn’t mean that he trust you, but now he gives you opportunity to speak and can actually listen to you sometimes

Also, loves your unapologetic lethality. You’re the only one who doesn’t judge him for enjoying a good, messy fight, and he appreciate it

When it’s comes to your first fight, he doesn’t think much from you. Seeing your body complexion, Raph assumes you to be all tricky, no power…Sweet voice, tiny frame. Must be fragile.

He doesn’t mean to be condescending, but he definitely tells you to “stay back” when there is some crowd of Kraangs that want to kick your asses

…Until you slams a Kraang into the wall so hard its wiring sparks. You made it look so effortless. You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t even grunt. The same smile, the same look.

His eyes go wide. Then narrow. Raph stops fighting for a split second just to watch. His brain cannot compute.

“…Okay, tiny.”

For the rest of the fight, he keeps trying to catch your messing up. You never do.

He has a minor identity crisis. His whole personality is raw power: he’s strongest, he’s biggest and toughest… and now here’s this calm, petite chemist wrecking dudes with their hands behind their back practically.

Secretly, he loves how unfazed you are. Power that doesn’t need to prove itself? That’s rare. That’s terrifying. That’s… hot.

He starts sparring with you a lot after that. It’s not about dominate. It’s about learning

You beat him in a fight using pure dirty tricks. He’s furious… and weirdly aroused

When he finally understands that you’re not danger for them, that you even useful, he finally softens. It’s raw and clumsy, without any words, but you’ll see it in his actions. How he backs you up in battles and offers you pizza after. How he worries when you’re in trouble, or how he lets you heal him, not looking at you with suspect. You’re the part of the team now, congrats. Don’t mess up.

He’s surprisingly good at reading your rage in disguise. He’s got the same kind. He sees your hands shake or your face twitching when no one else does.

You both have things to hide, and you both know that. Your dark sides align unexpectedly well. He’s more emotionally flexible than he seems, and you’re less heartless than you pretend. It’ll take time, but if you’ll do everything right, you’ll see Raph at the sides no one usually does

Michelangelo

At first, he thinks you’re a “Tiny smiling butterfly” and wants to be besties. He calls you stuff like “Little Miss Toxic Sugarplum” You smile at the nicknames but never quite lets him in. That makes him try harder.

When you describe poisons, he’s the only one who isn’t freaked out, just curious.

“Wait, wait— it melts the insides? DUDE.”

He volunteers to taste-test everything, even when you warn him not to.

“Whoa! This one tastes like watermelon!…Wait, why is my tongue numb—?”

Your dynamic is comfy and warm. There isn’t any problems. He helps you heal after hard missions. Makes dumb jokes when you’re patching people up. Makes you laugh in general. Brings sugar to your bitter tea. He will definitely find an approach to you

Mikey sees your past masks because he wears one too. He recognizes the way you hide pain behind sweetness.

He doesn’t push. Instead, he gently includes you in the group, offers you food, shows you his comics. Normalcy. No hurry.

One day, want you or not, he’ll make you laugh for real. Not the polite, serene kind, but a sharp, sudden giggle. He’ll remember that for days.

If you open up, even a little, he listens with surprising maturity. Mikey may be goofy, but he feels deeply. And he’s glad that you choose him to speak out

Mikey’s the only one who never underestimated you, but even he didn’t expect this.

The moment when you show your real powers and fight skills, show him that your not as simple as you seems, he’ll be charmed. Then intrigued. Then deeply, deeply invested.

He’s hyping you up before the fight, looking at you with starts in his eyes. Can’t say that he isn’t kinda worry about you tho…because well you’re so small and seems so fragile! But he's nearby, and if anything he'll help, right?

“You got this, Buttercup! I believe in yo—”

You casually suplexes a robot twice your size like it weighs nothing, and kick another into a wall without breaking your grin.

‘Wait…what?’

Mikey audibly screams. His expression changes from existential to…shock?

The way your dodge…no. You are literally flying next to the opponent, at the same time punching them so hard and not missing a single hit. There is more enemies behind, but you handled it just perfect. Like it wasn’t serious. You didn’t flinch, not even frown. Not a single sweat. You fight the way he never saw. He can't even catch your movements with his gaze, dammit! That’s how you fast—

“OH MY GOSH YOU’RE A BEAST—”

He yelp, before you tackling another robot. Seeing this contrast in your looks and your fight style makes his opinion about you changes instantly

Afterward, Mikey is bouncing around you like a puppy.

“You broke that Kraang’s arm and smiled the whole time. Do you realize how COOL that is???”

Starts bragging about you constantly to his brothers and enemies like:

“You don’t wanna mess with them. They once crushed a robot with their knee and didn’t even flinch.”

You’re graceful, yes. But your strength is jaw-dropping. And you look so peaceful doing it. Like the violence doesn’t affect you at all.

Lowkey starts training more seriously because you inspire him.

You teach him about pressure points once. He pretends he doesn’t remember. But he totally does. Uses it later to protect you.

If he falls in love, it’s warm, chaotic, and healing. Your darkness doesn’t scare him. He accepts it with joy. “You’re spooky sometimes, babe. I love it.”

I’m seeing him as he tries to confess to you… while hallucinating from your latest experiment. "Dude, the ceiling is singing…"

[delulu-julia]

heeey, so since u take requests for WOY, can u write some headcanons for main cast (Wander, Sylvia, Hater Peepers and if it’s not too much + Dominator) of them to falling in love with reader? like, realisation and what will they feel. i just love ur writing, feel free to ignore

WOY crush headcanons (part 1)

(Story + headcanons)

(Gn reader)

GOD FINALLY— You don’t know for how long I wanted to post about WOY. I have so much drafts with them it’s even EMBARRASSING. Yk I WOULD post some woy content long ago I just wasn’t sure if its worth, like yk you guys usually read only tmnt content and then boom, suddenly woy— but since the request is there, and if even 1 person is interested in it like I do, then oh lord I will do it now, and NOBODY CAN STOP ME HAHDGSHAHA,, also, I’ll do 2 part, cuz it’s too big and I’m too tired to write all of them at once

Wander

────୨ৎ────

It was right after another fight.

You did something reckless. I mean, like they usually do. But this time, you did something that even Sylvia probably would’ve hesitated. That even him, Wander, won’t go for.

You sacrificed yourself for something big. Not out of pride. Not to be seen as a hero. Not even for something in return. But to save others. To protect, to help. Just like he always tried to do. And maybe that’s what shook him the most. You didn’t thought about yourself. You gave everything in that moment, that most people would run from

…Now, after it’s all over, you’re sitting together. He’s humming some little tune, while gently bandaging you, tying the last knot. You’re rambling about something dumb, and your hair’s a mess, and you’ve got dirt on your cheek, grinning like if everything that happened today was nothing to you.

He can’t stop looking at you.

And then, suddenly, for a long-long second, you made him feel…everything. Safety, happiness, calmness, and so soft, warm hope, that says that everything is gonna be alright, and everyone is gonna to be happy. Then you said something again, and he just laughs—

Until he stops.

“Oh …Oh.”

His smile fades for a second. Not in a sad way, just… like that air got knocked out of him.

His chest tightened. His heart skips a beat.

It doesn’t feel like failing. It’s feels like remembering. Like finally understanding

‘I love them’

────୨ৎ────

At first? He panics. Not in the loud way, like running in circles or screaming, but in that quiet, deeply uncomfortable stillness where he suddenly forgets how to move his arms. Wander is all about love, kindness, hope, and joy… but not for himself.

He gives love without expecting it back. That’s his core.

So the moment he realizes he’s personally in love—with a capital L in the beginning—is deeply confusing for him. Not because he’s ashamed, but because it’s not about you anymore. It’s about him needing you. And that’s scary.

────୨ৎ────

You’re still talking, swinging your legs, completely unaware that something seismic just cracked open inside him.

He gives you a soft “uh-huh” still holding your hand from the bandage, but his fingers have gone stiff.

‘No no no no nope nope nope… Not this. Not me. Not to… I can’t—!’

He smiles harder. That big, goofy, full-teeth Wander smile. Too wide. Too much.

You don’t notice. You just thank him, and say something funny about your near-death experience. You laugh.

And it hurts. It physically hurts.

He excuses himself. Just for a minute. You offer to come with him.

“Nope! Nope-nope-nope! I’m good! I’m—ooh, look! A distraction—!”

He vanishes behind a boulder. Sits down. Stares into space. And then does what Wander always does when the world gets confusing…

He takes his banjo and sing. It’s soft. Just a hum at first. Then lyrics he doesn’t know where they came from.

He presses a hand to his chest.

It’s too much. It’s too big. This feeling doesn’t bounce off like all the others. It’s not funny. It’s terrifying.

────୨ৎ────

Headcanons

So what does he do next?

Firstly, he keeps smiling. Do the same as he usually do. Now it’s just… a little more and often

He brings you weird but thoughtful gifts. A lava-proof gloves. A spoon carved from moon-bone. A sock puppet of your face

He tells jokes just a little faster. Hugs just a little tighter. But when you laugh at something he says, or take his hand without thinking, he looks away, and sings under his breath

Wander normally rambles, right? But now it’s bad.

“Wander, can you hand me the toolkit?”

“Toolkit?! Oh, yep-yep sure, the one with the tools. The tools in the box. For fixing. I—yeah—I use those all the time haha! Not that I’m saying you break stuff! I mean you don’t break—YOU’RE PERFECT—uh—WHAT I MEANT WAS—”

…Sylvia drags him away mid-sentence.

Also, he sings about it. Constantly. But in secret… He tries not to. But the feelings are too big

He hums love songs to himself while he’s on the scullship. He sings lullabies under his breath while you sleep.

He writes lyrics in the dirt when you’re not looking. And if Sylvia ever finds the lyrics titled “Your Eyes Are Like Burning Stardust” he will literally implode.

His hat is what keeps him feel safe and grounded. But when he’s with you? Nah, he doesn’t really needs it in that case.

So yeah, he gives you his hat. And just trust me, it’s means a lot. One day, without thinking, he tosses it to you to shield your eyes from the sun. Then immediately gasps.

“OH—uh—you can give it back—unless you wanna keep it—but only if it’s not weird for you—”

You smile and keep it on. He doesn’t stop smiling for the next 11 hours.

He tries so hard not to touch you. Then accidentally does. And panics. A hand on your shoulder. A brush of fingers. You lean against him in your sleep once and he ascends spiritually. He goes stiff like a board and whispers “Please. Don’t. Move. Or I’ll burst into sparkles.”

He starts acting braver around you. But in dumb ways. He wants to impress you, but he’s so bad at it, and it’s adorable.

“Wander, do NOT touch that glowing slime.”

“What? It’s fine! Look, I’ll just—AAAAAAAHHHH IT’S IN MY BOOTS—”

Wander will never stop loving you. He just doesn’t know if it’s safe to let you know. Because Wander doesn’t want to change what you have.

Wander lives to make people happy. He lives to keep people safe. But now, with this love swelling inside him like a cosmic balloon ready to burst, he’s afraid that loving you might hurt you. And he’s terrified of hurting others

If he ever thought his feelings might overwhelm someone, burden them, make them uncomfortable… he would 100% keep them to himself.

So yeah, basically, he won’t confess. Because what if it changes everything? He thinks about telling you a thousand times tho. Every time you laugh, or nudge him, or say you’re glad he’s around—he almost does. But then he backs down. Because what if you stop being you around him? Or maybe he’ll hurt you with his words, or make you uncomfortable, or make you feel weird, or…

Anyway. Instead, he just quietly loves you. From one step behind. With stars in his eyes and a song in his chest.

Sylvia

────୨ৎ────

It starts like any other day.

Fighting off some bounty hunters, racing through explosions, dodging space snakes.

You’re right beside her, boots on fire, laughing like a lunatic while you fling yourself from rooftop to rooftop, from a tree to a hill, from a hill to the ground—

And she’s yelling at you the whole time

“Would you slow down for FIVE SECONDS—?!”

But you don’t. And she follows. Because she always does.

Then it happens.

There’s a moment—you trip mid-jump. Mid-air. Just a second too soon. She sees it. Sees your falling. No landing in sight. Her stomach drops. For one horrible second, she thinks that’s it. She just too far, she cant make it—

Sylvia moved before she could end the thought. She lunges. Grabs your wrist. Spins. Takes the fall with you.

You both land hard, sand in your teeth, adrenaline in your ears.

The world goes quiet. She can’t hear anything in the background. Can’t feel the ground shaking. Just the blood pounding in her ears. Her breath locked in her chest.

And then—

Your head pops out. Grinning like an idiot. Dusting yourself off like nothing happened. “Wow…” you call.

She storms over. Doesn’t even think. Grabs your collar and yells:

“Are you actually crazy?!! No, seriously, you absolute IDIOT!!! YOU COULD DIE!! WHAT IF I—”

“…Sylvia.”

You said her name so casually. And then, for her endless surprise, you start laughing. Not a giggle. A full, loud laugh.

That’s when she stares. Mouth open. Dust clinging to her scales. Heart thudding, still processing the moment

“Oh Sylvia—!!”

You’re filthy. Bruised. Absolutely insane. And you look up at her like you just had the best day ever.

“Did you see that jump?! We almost DIED!”

She doesn’t interrupt you. And as you start to slow down, start to apologize, she pulls you into a hug so tight it knocks the wind out of you. Hard, full body, not that one of those Sylvia’s slap-back hugs. No quips, no play fighting. That one she never gives to you. Just raw, shaking, silent relief.

And as you laugh softly and rest your chin on her shoulder—

That’s when it hits her.

How sick she felt.

How hard she shook.

‘…Oh no.’

How empty the galaxy would feel without you bouncing beside her.

‘Oh crap…I’m in love with them, am I?’

────୨ৎ────

Her realisation is not some slow and poetic. It’s a gut-punch.

She’s tough, yes. She’s blunt, protective. Sometimes rude. Sometimes sharp. But she feels everything—she just doesn’t wear it the way Wander does. Sylvia is loyal, deeply emotional under her grit, and incredibly panics when someone she loves is in danger.

Just think about how she reacts when Wander is threatened. She drops everything. She growls, she charges and fights like hell.

So of course when it’s someone she loves, and she thinks she’s lost them? She’s going to freeze. She’s going to panic. Not flowery—it’s adrenaline. It’s shock. It’s the moment right before a fighter breaks. And Sylvia’s a seasoned warrior. She’s used to chaos. If that chaos suddenly feels hollow without you? That’s exactly when she knows: ‘This isn’t just anyone. I need them.’

Sylvia’s the one who’ll grab your arm and pull you out of danger. But the second she can’t? She thinks she lost the one person she’d never admit means everything. And when you survive, when you smile like it’s nothing?

She loses it. Emotionally.

────୨ৎ────

She pulls back first. Clears her throat. Punches your arm way too hard.

“Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

She stomps ahead, muttering to herself. Wander catches up beside her, eyes wide.

“You okay Syl?”

“Fine. Now cmon, we gotta go…”

────୨ৎ────

Headcanons

At first avoids talking about it. At all costs. Sylvia handles danger, disasters, and idiot space warlords like a champ… But feelings? Nope. That’s where she draws the line. At least for one so tense and burning like this.

Every time you try to bring up the hug, she’ll immediately deflect:

“What hug? Ah, hug! Well, what with it? Nothing’s wrong. I was just checking if you had a pulse. Not my fault you’re so soft and cuddly—”

Her protective streak gets… worse. And louder. She starts tailing you a little too closely during fights. If a blaster gets pointed in your direction, it’s already smashed in pieces before you even notice.

If you get even slightly injured, she storms over like: “Okay, who touched them? WHO? Show me where it hurts...Oh I swear I’ll punch atoms out of them…”

Her version of flirting is punching your shoulder a little too hard and saying “You’re alright, you know that?”

Starts inviting you to do “dangerous stuff” with her.

“Wanna spar?”

“Wanna see who can jump this lava crevice faster?”

(She just wants to spend time with you)

I think that she might insult you affectionately. That’s her love language now.

She starts pulling the “casual” hangs.

“Oh look, this planet’s got two suns and a weird mushroom festival. Wanna check it out? Not a date. Just bored.”

“Hey, you wanna go for a drink? I mean, not like that just—you know—hydration’s important.”

She will never call it a date…Even if she combs her mane and adjust her saddle specifically for you first.

And I just feel she’s TERRIFIED you’ll figure it out. Because if you do? That means she has to admit it. Out loud. With words. And she has no idea what she’ll do then.