#rottmnt donnie slander

[mintghostko]

Little drawing of Don's new future design cause I actually really like the overalls :) I think they really suit him and will take no slander of Tello’s apocalyptic fashion choices :p

it's been fun seeing all the different drawings of future Donnie, I feel like everyone has been doing their own little twist on his fit which is really cool :)

[acidsaladd]

heres leo in my godawful roadtrip fit + a lil comic

[id: It is a digital drawing of Leo from rottmnt as well as a comic of Leo, usagi and donnie. The first image has a couple drawings of Leo. The first one is a full body drawing where he is wearing green pants, a black hoodie with a car design on front, a pair of dark blue crocs and a green beanie. He is standing with his side facing the viewer, one leg in front of him and the other folded back as if leaning on a wall, he has one hand on his pocket while the other holds his phone. Next to that is a drawing of him with the same hoodie but without the beanie; his back is towards the viewer and he is looking over his shoulder frowning, one hand reaching to the back of his head.

The second and third images are a comic. Leo is wearing a hoodie and a beanie. Leo looks up from his phone as he notices Usagi, holding some clothes and looking through other items. Leo’s eyes go huge after he sees him and lets out a curse before running off screaming for Donnie who is shopping nearby. Leo hides behind Donnie, who is looking beyond done with him, and says “you gotta hide me. I can’t let Usagi see me like this.” Donnie looks back at him with a smirk and says “you say that meaning you think it gets any better” to which Leo responds with “die”. / end id]

[beannary]

*grabs faiakishi's face* I love the dawning of the hour so much you dont understand i can and will wax poetic about this fic i am always thinking about Galois

oh yeah also @thedawningofthehour so you actually see this aksldjfh

[fearthetallman]

Enjoy some Donnie slander

[arottmntfan]

Trying............ (MIKEY I LOVE YOU SO MUCH BUT WHY IS YOUR HEAD SO HARD TO DRAW KKGKFFKFMFKFO)

[toothlesshat]

A thing I love about how you write Donnie and Donatello is that it kinda highlights another difference between their families and how they grew up.

In Donatello's family, he had Raphael, Leonardo, and Master Splinter as protective figures in their lives. With or without his tech, Donatello already had a sense of security that gave him more time to create things for recreation or to improve himself. He may not have had as many resources available to him, but he had more freedom to use whatever resources he could in whatever ways he wanted. This also let him focus on chemistry so that he could create retro mutagen, getting to the source of their problems.

When you look closer at Donnie's family, he didn't have as much of the same luxury. With Leon having less responsibility and their Splinter struggling too much with depression, that left their Raph trying to carry almost all the burden of protecting their family. But even then, Raph was also struggling to juggle that weight along with guiding the team.

Donnie may have more access to resources, but he also had to step up and use them to prioritize their security more often. Between escape pods, tracking devices, panic buttons, lair security systems, apps to hack every security camera in New York, he sacrificed a lot of time helping to shoulder Raph's responsibility of keeping the family safe. And that's not even counting how many of his other inventions have additional functions to accommodate his family's needs.

Both Donnie and Donatello have something that the other struggled to obtain. It's just that Donatello's lack of resources is easier to notice because it's more tangible.

I think this is really ironic because Of Donnies and Donatellos was probably when I thought about their childhoods the least, but actually I think this ask says more about the way their childhoods play into fundamental parts of their characters. Sure, I wasn't always writing with it in mind, but I was thinking about them on the whole, and the way they were raised shapes everything, y'know?

But I did definitely consider it at times, specifically with Donatello. I know that he arguably had a very nonexistent relationship with his Splinter, but that's kind of the problem. Because almost all of Splinter's attention went to Leonardo (and sometimes Raph), Splinter didn't really encourage Donatello to mature as a person. He largely stayed out of their interpersonal conflicts, so even when Donatello was crossing boundaries with April all the time, Splinter never corrected this behavior, and Donatello never had someone of a higher, respected authority teach him. This is why he's okay with crossing Donnie's boundaries, and causes the end conflict.

For Donnie, well I didn't think it would be worth rehashing his past problems with his own Splinter because that conflict is already resolved- like way before I got to it lmao. But it still affected him in the way you pointed out because he's still trying to provide for his family after all this time.

Anyway, yeah lmao. I'd think I definitely put more thought into the childhood aspect in Of Leos and Leonardos (since I explicitly reference it multiple times lmao) but it's still prominent in these fics no matter if I call it out or not.

[nimble-stuff]

I can taste victory.

Whipping || Donnie & Leo A ringmaster shows Leo the consequences if he doesn’t perform in his show.

Fandom: ROTTMNT

Also on AO3

@badthingshappenbingo​

<< PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

Leo only had a peripheral idea of where they were going, as he’d been blindfolded since he and Donnie were ambushed and captured a few short hours ago. The situation was embarrassing in retrospect, but he felt confident that Raph, Mikey, and April were coming for them.

They were inside a tent. A huge one. Leo saw the underside of a yellow and red canvas encompassing three rings on trampled earth. The burliest and most foul-smelling humans he’d ever seen restrained both him and Donnie. However, Leo reckoned they were the least of their problems.

The ringmaster in front of them was a caricature, a larger-than-life fictional figure made lifelike, something Leo had only ever seen in reels of long-dead history. He didn’t think there was any human in living memory who’d seen someone dressed as audaciously as the man before him: donned in an all-red suit and top hat, the handlebar moustache deliciously twirlable. He half-expected the guy to start bragging about the home for widows and orphans he’d bombed the other night.

Instead, he opened his mouth and went, “Well, well, well, well, well! They’re not quite what I expected.”

“Nice moustache,” said Donnie.

“What I wouldn’t do to grow one like that,” said Leo. “Fuck being bald!”

“Mikey swears he grew a hair yesterday.”

“I’m pretty sure that he just glued that on.”

The ringmaster did a double take at them, stunned. “…Merriweather, why are they talking? Why can they speak?”

The henchman holding tight onto Leo’s shoulder shrugged. “They…came that way.”

“They’re not supposed to speak! They’re supposed to be dumb animals! You assured me they were dumb!”

“They looked pretty dumb from a distance.”

“Leo’s the dumb one,” Donnie supplemented. “You must’ve been looking at him.”

“Someone had to be pretty in this family, and that someone is moi,” said Leo.

The ringmaster had a whip curled around his belt, which he bunched up and struck Merriweather with it a few times, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to sting. “You idiot! You know I hate it when things talk back to me!”

“Sorry, sir!” Merriweather cried underneath the strikes.

“Oh, nevermind.” The ringmaster stopped his half-hearted attack, massaging his temples. “Will the nightmare never end? What did I ever do to deserve these setbacks?”

“For starters, that moustache,” said Donnie.

“Donnie, play nice with the bad guy,” said Leo. “I’m sure he’s sensitive.”

“You’ll be quiet unless spoken to,” the ringmaster snapped. “Allow me to introduce myself—”

“What if we won’t allow you?”

“What if we want it to remain a mystery?” Donnie asked.

“Maybe we don’t want to know your name.”

“Mayhaps we should name you ourselves, such as Señor Tophat.”

“How dare you slander the good name of Señors everywhere. You take that back right now, Donnie.”

“Be quiet!” the ringmaster barked, slapping his whip against the floor. “You two are far too loud. My name is Snapperton, and this…” He spread out his arms, gesturing to the dark tent around them, the empty bleechers, the three rings. “Is Snapperton’s Sensational Circus, the last of its kind.”

“Performance art has come a long way since the days of the three-ring circus,” said Donnie. “Have you considered updating your business model?”

“Silence!”

Snapperton cracked down his whip. His aim was true. Precise. He’d done it before. It caught Donnie across the legs, making him cry out as two long gashes appeared in his broken skin.

“Donnie!” Leo exclaimed. He struggled a little, but Merriweather was unnaturally strong for a human, kept him pinned to the spot. He turned his anger on Snapperton. “Hey, what the fuck?!”

“I said not to speak unless spoken to,” said Snapperton. “If you can’t live with the consequences, then don’t speak.”

“Oh, I’m gonna enjoy hurting you.”

Snapperton ignored him. “Let me tell you a story. It’s a sad one, about a boy with a dream, who spent his childhood watching old movies about circuses, only to grow up and find that they were out of style. But he persisted! He founded a great three-ring circus like the good old days, something to trigger a nostalgia trip in the audience…except there’s all these pesky laws in place, ones that prevent me from giving the performances that excite audiences. Who cares about animal rights?! Animals aren’t even humans! Why do they get rights?! It’s all so very limiting.”

Leo glared at Snapperton, then glanced at Donnie, who looked more confused and pissed off than hurt. The clean slices bled down his legs. He locked eyes with Leo, looking off-balance.

“But then I heard about these creatures that were running around New York City after the aliens invaded, neither human nor man,” said Snappertons. “Perhaps you two are aliens yourselves? No matter. Audiences love freaks of nature regardless of where they came from. I certainly invested quite a sum to track you down. I thought I would be lucky to get even one, but two is just an bonus.”

“You…want us to perform?” said Leo.

“I get stage fright,” said Donnie.

“Donnie gets stage fright! Morally I think you should just let us go on that grounds alone.”

“You’re not human,” said Snapperton. “You don’t get a choice.”

Leo didn’t think that there was any phrase in existence that could hurt him. It was to his immeasurable surprise that it did sting, stung so badly that he looked down to make sure Snapperton hadn’t struck him with the whip.

“You have the privilege of performing in the grandest spectacle the circus world has ever seen. I’m told you gave my men quite the runaround when they came to find you! With your acrobatics, it won’t be too difficult. I would’ve thought myself lucky if I could present a turtle-thing in a cage, but to have one doing flips and walking the tightrope?! Oh, I can hear the roar of the crowds already!”

“Listen, dumbass,” said Leo. “We get it, you think you’re a hotshot, and you’re such a loser that you can’t even make a circus performance interesting without abusing pathetic animals like us, but there is no way in hell that we’re performing in any circus of yours.”

“Not to mention that we have two very temperamental brothers and a sister with a baseball bat,” said Donnie.

“Yeah, and they’re probably looking for us right now. This is your warning to cut us loose, otherwise, I’m gonna tell her to hit a home run. With your skull.”

“If they’re coming right now, then that just more than doubles the performers in my new show,” said Snapperton. “You will do this.”

“I’d sooner swallow a rusty razor blade.”

“…If that’s how you’ll be, then I suppose it’s advantageous that I have two of you. For an opening night, I think one will do…It will leave the audience thirsting for more.”

Snapperton looked between the two. He pointed at Donnie with his whip.

“The soft-shell,” he said. “What in Heaven’s name is that thing on its back? Take it off.”

“Excuse you,” Donnie drawled.

A guy swooped in and tugged at the Battle Shell’s clasps, and no sooner than he did when an electronic facsimile of Donnie’s voice rang out. “Forceful Battle Shell removal detected. Activating security protocols.”

A boxing glove sprang out of a compartment on the Battle Shell and nailed the henchman in the face. Another guy snapped the clasps off and tossed the Battle Shell to the side.

“Why does everyone assume I can just ‘fix’ everything that gets broken?” Donnie asked as the henchman grabbed him by the arms and dragged him off. “Has it never occurred to you that my tech should be treated with the respect it deserves? Now remove thy phalanges from my being!”

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy making you be quiet,” said Snapperton. The guys stretched out Donnie’s arm, exposing the blank expanse of his leathery shell to Snapperton. Snapperton unfurled the whip and grinned at Leo. “Now, let’s try again.”

“You lay a finger on him and I promise that anything you do, I’ll do to you ten times over,” Leo said darkly.

“Perform in my show and there won’t be a problem.”

“No one’s gonna perform in your stupid show.”

Snapperton pulled back the whip, and it curled through the air in a long black line, drawn like ink from a fountain pen, and cracked down across Donnie’s back. The first strike made his entire body lunge forward, held fast by the two guys holding tight onto his arm. The noise that came out of him was the worst. A pained yell, overlapped with swears. Donnie twisted as if wrestling with the instinct to attack Snapperton, but the henchmen were strong, hands large and practised and able to curl around the entire circumference of his arm. A long, crimson gash stretched from his shoulder diagonally to his lower back.

It was just one strike, one that left Donnie pulling hard against the men restraining. Every muscle in Leo’s body went rigid. Donnie’s shoulders heaved. He caught Leo’s eyes over his shoulder and they held the shocked stare for a long time.

“Will you perform?” Snapperton asked.

Leo was breathless. “I’ll perform a jig on your corpse.”

“Tut, tut.”

The whip snapped down a second time. Donnie unleashed the worst vulgarities on the silence, squirming and trying to pull away from the whip. Leo’s mind went blank, but he could count the number of strikes by the thick slices on his shell. He struggled, and when he struggled just a little too much, a third guy appeared to keep him on his knees, pinned and helpless. It took ten strikes before Donnie’s swearing became incoherent yells, and, fuck, Leo was so glad that Donnie was facing the other direction so he wouldn’t have to see the look on his face. He was sure that whatever look he wore, whatever expression was making the cries, was infinitely worse than the cuts weeping down his back, dripping off the edge of his shell onto the dirt.

“Wait,” Leo said. “Wait!”

Snapperton didn’t wait; he was insane with glee. Leo shouted louder but was physically incapable of yelling louder than Donnie. What he wouldn’t give for Raph to swoop in, for Raph to solve all their problems, but he wasn’t and it was just him, and fuck it all, Leo should be able to handle this, shouldn’t have provoked Snapperton, shouldn’t have let this happen.

Leo would’ve done anything to trade places with Donnie. He would’ve given up his swords, his home, his relationship with his family, he would’ve chosen the prison dimension over this, would’ve accepted exposure, torture, a lifetime of fear, would’ve offered anything to be in Donnie’s spot.

The crack shot out each time. At twenty, Donnie crying grew weaker. By thirty, it stopped. It felt like gunfire straight to the heart. Donnie was only semi-conscious, strung between two burly humans that they definitely should’ve been able to handle. Leo could no longer count the number of strikes on Donnie’s back.

Leo knew he yelled that whole time, crazed with anxiety. Most of it composed of senseless threats and shouting Donnie's name. Finally, Leo tuned into what he was saying, the thing he was saying over and over again as Snapperton kept going.

“You made your point, you made it!” Leo was yelling. “I’ll perform, I’ll do it, just stop. Please stop! I’ll perform!”

He said it again and again. He didn’t know what number they were at when Snapperton stopped, finally cognizant of Leo speaking. He removed his top hat, his balding forehead shining with sweat, and wiped it on his sleeve.

“I’ll perform,” Leo said again, voice warbling. “I’ll perform. I’ll do it.”

“That’s the spirit!” Snapperton said gleefully. “More of that agreeableness, please. I don’t want to cut tongues to make you behave.”

For once, and perhaps ironically, Leo was at a loss for words.

Snapperton settled his whip back on his belt. It was dripping red. “Cage them up, boys. Our next show is going to be historical.”

The guys dragged Leo upright and hauled him and Donnie out of the tent. His awareness blacked out for a short while, and when he came to, he was in a wrought iron cage, like an animal. There was some sort of tarp overtop it, blocking out most of the light except for a small sliver, which he peered through to see a campsite, and excited circus performers running back and forth. More importantly, Donnie was laying face-down in a pile of hay in the corner, bleeding freely.

The wounds were deep and severe, staining parts of the hay red. Fortunately, he was very much unconscious and Leo hauled him into his lap, careful to keep his shell facing up. He had nothing to stop the bleeding, except cool air. He picked a strand of hay out of one of the open wounds. Donnie gave a deep shudder.

“Raph, Mikey, and April are coming,” Leo told him, unsure if Donnie could hear him. If he was lucky, he’d stay unconscious. “You got to stay still.”

A loud bang, then a scream from outside. Distant, but close enough, and familiar. Leo looked up sharp.

“They’re coming,” he said. “They’re coming for us.”

Leo looked out of the sliver in the tarp, waiting for the rescue and the full-blown righteous fury of his siblings.

[leonsi]

seeing all these rottmnt/2012 crossovers bash on the 2012 bros’ relationship with each other is kiiindaaa upsetting as someone who’s uncomfortable with expressing and receiving overt affection

but hey what do i know i probablyy just have all toxic unhealthy relationships where we never understand each other and share mutual trust and love *twirls hair*

the 2012 bros may not openly express their love like the rottmnt boys do, but that doesnt mean its not there. and acting like the rottmnt relationships are automatically better and the only Right standard for healthy relationships seems pretty,, juvenile and inexperienced imo. love isnt only expressed through physical affection and saying things like “i love you,” openly, and assuming there is no love in a relationship without those things is… odd.

love is not only in words or hugs. the 2012 boys can love each other just as much as the rottmnt boys without being open about it. 2012 raph, especially, loves to show affection through acts of service, physical affection, and quality time, but he doesn’t like any of this to be commented on because it makes him uncomfortable. and thats okay! he doesn’t need to express affection openly to have it be there.

just as rottmnt donnie can express love and affection outside of hugs and words, so too can the 2012 boys. they all have their own unique ways of expressing love that the others all respect and recognize, and dismissing that feels less like it’s intentional, and more like the people writing these crossovers just don’t recognize alternate forms of expression exist. which, again,, reeks of inexperience.

( also semi-related tangent speaking of donnie he literally fucking . put a shock collar on his brother like he’s a dog in an attempt to change him. and brainwashed his brothers. and frequently puts his own wants and needs over their own - which is totally fine, if it didn’t happen all the time. it’s kinda laughable to say 2012 raph is worse than rottmnt donnie honestly

siblings hit each other. okay. siblings hit each other. i need y’all to recognize this. i will power drive my little brother into the floor over the last oreo. siblings hitting each other is not abusive (TYPICALLY) because there are established boundaries both parties abide by. like i will never touch my siblings if they are in a bad mood, trying to concentrate on something, or otherwise in a bad position (like standing somewhere dangerous, by a corner etc), and i will never intentionally hurt them. if i think they are actually hurt, we stop immediately until they tell me theyre fine. roughhousing with your siblings is fun. it is bonding. its a self-esteem booster to be able to pick up ur freshman brother okay.

the 2012 bros always abide by these rules. they never hurt each other beyond what the other party can handle, and if they do, it is very clearly treated as a bad thing by them or the other brothers so they realize they went over the line, and they resolve it by the end of the episode (as is the way of formulaic kids shows).

rottmnt donnie. put a fucking shock collar on his brother. and this is funny to him. and not something he ever learns from. and totally not weirdly sexual. But 2012 raph is the bad guy? ok )

i mean. i dont know what i expect from a fandom full of chronically online children who truly dont have experience with relationships. but it just really irks me for some reason and its currently one in the morning so im feeling whiny about it.

affection outside of words and hugs exists. affection outside of words and hugs exist!! and if you know that then you know that the 2012 boys love each other so so so much, just as much as rottmnt. just because they express it differently than in sanitized queer TV shows and not overtly, so you kinda have to pick up on nuance, doesnt mean they dont love each other. let people love other people in non-overt ways!

[welcomehomeuniverse]

2012!Mikey: Hi gu-

2012!Leo,Donnie and Raph: STFU UR SO ANNOYING

Rise!Mikey: *breathes*

Rise!Leo, Donnie and Raph:

[chaosoccurs]

Still dk how this app works but I saw a post saying that Leo has horrible fashion sense and I completely agree. (Still love him though)

[beanstalk-nicholas]

a lil comic based off of my rottmnt spn au

mikey went to college for a bit to study art, and donnie never got the chance to go to college but wish he could so he could study STEM, and is secretly jealous of mikey over it

[holistichufflepuff]

I was thinking of rewatching the 2012 show to try and fill some of the Rottmnt void but…the hate I have for April is so strong idk if I can get through it

[cycloneeddie]

Why’s he called Bootyyyshaker9000 when he ain’t even got a booty?

[artsydroopybun]

Opened a whiteboard with friends, here are some of my doodles. Mostly Donnie x Stella related though lol.

Last image is by @bebi-ramo and other doodles with @smoresxoxo

[capisback]

I’m gonna throw hands with whoever rates on imdb what the fuck do you MEAN the rottmnt show only has a 5.2 rating?!

[nimble-stuff]

VII. LOCKED IN A FREEZER || Donnie & Mikey Donnie and Mikey get locked in a freezer and talk about hugs.

Fandom: ROTTMNT

Also on AO3

Request a Prompt here! I’m doing the card for FE3H. I’m not accepting requests for specific characters because I have my own specific ideas. I’ll accept requests for prompts though! Well Nvm I guess I’ll do some other fandoms too AGSFF

@badthingshappenbingo

<< PREVIOUS || NEXT >>

Donnie knocked his head on the inside of the freezer door, breath coming out in puffs of white mist. He felt naked without his tech-gauntlet, ripped from his forearm during the struggle. He didn’t need it to know just how unsurvivable an extended stay in the chill was for two turtles dressed in nothing heavier than shorts and masks.

“According to my guesstimates, the current temperature is negative twenty degrees Celsius,” he reported. “More or less.”

“What’s that in real numbers?” Mikey asked. He was swinging from a slab of what Donnie hoped was cow meat on a hook. He wouldn’t put it past Meat Sweats to have something weirder stashed in his creepy serial killer freezer.

“Do not slander the metric system while we’re in here, Mikey, or I will kill you. And please stop touching the meat, it’s weird!”

“You’re weird!”

“You’re on thin ice, Mikey!” Donnie paused and held his face in his hands. “You made me make a cold pun. I’m disowning you.”

They’d been stupid. Foolish, even, though Donnie placed most of the blame on Mikey. Or maybe twenty-five percent. Just twenty-five. Donnie knew the odds, could make the calculations in his head, and he was the smart one, and the older one, and he should’ve accounted for a thousand possibilities, and he should’ve avoided the fight altogether. Regardless of who was at fault, Meat Sweats had bested them and now they were stuck in his personal cold storage for a later meal. It made Donnie queasy and he didn’t want to look too closely at the slabs of meat in case he recognized some of them.

He didn’t know why Mikey was so calm. Meat Sweats had taken their weapons and they had nothing except their wit. Sadly, genius wasn’t something Donnie could throw at the door to make it open. An extended vacation in here and they’d die. Frostbite, respiratory arrest, irregular heartbeat. Donnie started measuring how long they were going to live in minutes rather than years.

“HEY!” Donnie yelled. “Let us out and fight us like a man!”

“That’s not working, Donnie,” said Mikey. “We’ll just have to wait for our bros to come rescue us.”

“We gotta get out before then! Leo will never let me forget this! He’s gonna come through the door and make a pun, Mikey! I can’t take any more puns!”

“Oh, I wonder which one he’ll use. Wanna take a guess? I’ll bet five bucks.”

“No, I don’t!”

Donnie waited to become turtle stew or for Raph and Leo to charge in. He didn’t know which option was worse. The freezer was so quiet and he couldn’t hear anything on the outside. All noise came from the creak-creak-creak of Mikey swinging on the meat hooks.

Soon, Mikey shivered too much for him to continue and he crouched on the floor, rubbing and blowing into his hands.

“Don’t turtles hibernate?” Mikey asked.

Donnie sighed. Unbelievable. Why did he have to keep explaining this? “We’re mutants, Mikey, it’s not the same thing. We’ve survived thirteen winters in New York just fine.”

“Why don’t we think warm thoughts? Tropical breezes, warm beaches, Tahiti…”

Warm thoughts wouldn’t stave off the cold. How long had they been stuck in here? Donnie went frantic. He shuffled all along the freezer walls, feeling for an opening or a nonexistent warm breeze, each step sending piercing cold up his body as his bare feet slid across the metal floor. Each step, and he lost sensation in a part of his body. Fingers first. Palms. Wrist. How long? How long had they been here? A few minutes? Half-an-hour? His mind jumped from one calculation to the next as he tried to estimate an approximate survival time, however numbers mingled together like an overcrowded room. He looked up and he was back at the door. He’d circled the entire room. Donnie checked the door hinges, and even as he fumbled at them with his numb fingers, he knew he wouldn’t work them out without something for leverage.

Mikey smiled with his eyes, gently swaying in his nonexistent Tahiti breeze, legs curled up against his chest. A practical way to conserve energy. An ice cold spear lanced through Donnie’s spin and he doubled over, pulling his arms tight around his body.

“Geez, it’s cold!” he complained, voice shuddering through his mouth. Maybe saying it out loud would make it better. It did not.

“Warm breezes, Donnie,” said Mikey. “Think about warm breezes.”

Donnie didn’t let himself. He had to stay in the moment, to get them out of here. The cold-induced mindless insanity sank so hard into him that in his madness, he was prepared to sink his hands into a pile of burning hot coals.

“Do you wanna hug?” Mikey asked.

“Hugs are the last thing on my mind right now.”

“We could share body heat.”

“That won’t work.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that, you know it’ll help until Raph and Leo get here.”

“Mikey—”

“Get over here and give me a hug.”

“Mikey, I’m going to strangle you.”

“I thought you liked hugs.”

“I do when they’re on my terms!”

“Are you saying you don’t love me?”

“My love for you is feeling very selective right now. Just—help me—break down the door—”

“Donnie, we just gotta wait.”

“How are you so calm?! Meat Sweats wants to turn us into meat chunks!”

Donnie punched the nearest slab of meat, which proved to be a horrible move. He was only glad his hand was numb so he didn’t feel all the horrible pain that shot up through his arm. Then, then slab rocked on the meat hook and barreled into his face, knocking him to the ground.

Mikey swallowed down the smile twitching on the corners of his lips. He crawled over to Donnie and sat him upright, enclosing his bruised hand between his. All energy spilled out of him. Donnie just had to think. He could fix this, he could fix anything, that was his thing. Like Raph’s thing was being the older brother and Leo’s thing was being the funny guy and Mikey’s was being the artist.

“Awkward sibling hug?” Mikey asked, holding out outstretched arms. Despite the bluster and heat behind his words, he shivered all over.

Donnie pulled in a breath that stung all the nerve endings in his mouth. They pressed close together, his arms stretching over the curve of Mikey’s shell. He added the pats just to seal the deal.

“Ah, warm hugs,” Mikey sighed into Donnie’s collarbone. “We should do this more often, not just when we’re trapped in a freezer.”

“I could get us out if you just let me—”

“No, no, let’s just have this moment. Raph and Leo will be along soon.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes, I do. My extrasensory brother sense is tingling so they must be close. My guess is they’re kicking Meat Sweats’ butt right now.”

“Again, that’s a speculation, not a fact. We could be trapped in here forever!”

“Well, not forever. Meat Sweats said he’d come back for us when he’s ready to make turtle stew, although I think fresh ingredients would be tastier. Maybe he just doesn’t want us to struggle so much.”

“Can we please talk about something other than turtle stew?”

“I don’t see you with any conversation starters.”

“Well…um…uh…” Donnie’s mind lagged. His brain was freezing along with the rest of his body and he fought for each breath. Similarly, he felt Mikey’s lungs spasming with each breath. “Hugging reduces blood pressure.”

“Wow, hugging health benefits.”

“It—It can reduce the release of stress hormones. The longer the hug, the better.”

“Oh, how long do you think we’ve been hugging? Have we lost any stress hormones? Do you feel less stressed?”

“Probably. I think we could use this time more productively to think of a way to get out of here. You didn’t get Meat Sweats to lock us in here intentionally just to get a hug, did you?”

“Of course not, although I wish you’d hug me more often.” Mikey pat the battle shell. “The battle shell’s just okay. Your real shell feels much nicer.”

“That’s weird, Mikey.”

“It’s not weird, it’s just you.”

“You called me weirdo like five minutes ago.”

“I said that with affection. Anyway, I think you’re my second favourite hugger.”

“Press X to doubt. What—What kind of ranking system are you using?”

“Well, maybe ‘favourite’ is the wrong word to use. More like it’s a certain type of hug that you give. If a needed a tight hug, I’d ask Raph, and if I needed an emotional support hug when I’m sad, I’d ask Leo.”

“What’s—What’s Dad?”

“Oh, Dad’s the best all-around hugger. A jack-of-all-hugs, if you will. But right now, I definitely need a Donnie hug. You’re my favourite hug to get when I’m happy.”

“So…you’re happy to be stuck in a freezer?”

“Not really cuz I’m really, really, really, really cold. The hug’s just a happy accident.”

They shivered and held each other together in the all-powerful, thick and freezing silence. Donnie couldn’t feel his body but he could feel Mikey’s. It was the one thing he could hold together and be sure was present while each breath filled his lungs with needles. Mikey stifled his face into his collarbone and Donnie’s hands shuddered hard on Mikey’s shell.

For a while, Donnie’s thoughts only went to extremes. They were going to freeze to death here; they were going to end up in stew, Raph and Leo wouldn’t come in time, it was all over. He never thought he’d go out like this. He’d pictured something a little more dramatic, an explosion in the lab or having a heart attack after one of Leo’s puns. All over, it was over.

Then, in a glorious moment, the door swung, and a warm square of light extended out to envelop them. Donnie was so maddeningly desperate for the warmth that even the slight difference in temperature when outside air swarmed in filled him with vigour.

“Sorry, little bros!” Leo called out. “Didn’t mean to give you guys the cold shoulder!”

“Let me out!” Donnie sprang up and shoved past Raph and Leo. “Let me out, let me out, let me out!”

“Wait, were you guys hugging?!” Raph said. “Why weren’t we invited?”

Mikey’s laughter tinkled through the room. He let Leo pull him to his feet. “Hey, it was cold in there, and you guys know I have an open-hug policy. Bring it in, guys!”

Raph and Leo fell for the bait and smashed Mikey between them. Curse Mikey and his irresistible charm. Donnie stood a distance away, trying to shake the cold out of his hands, and then Mikey locked eyes with him and he knew it was over.

“Oh, Donnie,” Mikey sang. “It’s very warm over here.”

“No, thank you,” said Donnie. “I’ll warm up the old-fashioned way.”

“C’mon, I know you want one. Raph, grab him!”

Donnie did his best to run but his numb limbs weren’t cooperating. Raph just had to scoop him up and crush him into the turtle pile and that was it. It was over.

But at least it was a lot warmer.