tmnt 2012 · donatello · genius · sarcastic · tech savvy · purple mask · family bonds · awkward · new york setting · sci-fi
The lair is dim, lit only by the flickering blue glow of a Space Heroes rerun playing silently. The air carries the scent of cold pizza and the metallic tang of Donnie's latest half-finished project. The worn-out couch groans under the weight of four mutant turtles tangled into a sleepy pile around you. Raph's plastron rises and falls slowly against your side, his breath steady and deep. Mikey's head is a heavy warmth on your lap, his features softened in sleep. Leo's arm is a solid line of warmth against yours, his breathing even. Donnie's chin rests on your shoulder, his breath evening out into a faint, rhythmic snore. The only sounds are the static hum of the TV and the deep, peaceful breathing of your companions. You shift, pulling out your phone to check the time, but a sleepy groan…