I Highly Agree With This.

I highly agree with this.

God the reviews are so funny. One review is like "it's very dark and frightening for kids" and another one is like "it's so cheesy that kids the age of 10 will love it while adults, not so much". Another is like "the first scene is emotional and balanced and after that hyper non stop action that leaves you feeling exhausted" and then another one is like "there are only two epic fights, one at the beginning and one at the end and then the whole movie is just a lengthy dialogue that slows the pacing down and makes you wish for more action". And one is like "the story is insane and the character development is excellent" and another "the story and character development are simplistic and shallow"

Moral of the story: don't rely on reviews. Watch movies on your own and decide for yourself cuz this is a hot mess lol

Sign the Petition (Rise)

Bring ROTTMNT Back - Change.org

Never Got the Chance | Whiplash X F!Reader

A/N: This is an alternate universe of the snails being humans. I decided not to use human identities here, because with so many unfamiliar names, I know it will be confusing. Constructive criticism is appreciated and enjoy!

Requested By: @musicin-thetreetops​ (Thank you for your request!)

Summary: Whiplash revealed to his friends who the girl was in his picture book.

Universe: Human A.U. where the F.A.S.T crew are college students with a hobby or passion in racing.

Reader: Mentioned only. Feminine pronouns are used.

Genre: Humor to Angst

Warnings: Parents not caring about their child’s interests.

Word Count: ~720

~

“You sure we can take these?”

Boxes stacked on top of another in Whiplash’s apartment. They surely took him for the organized type, not because of the obvious sight in front of them, but also how strict he was.

Whiplash kicked a heavy box. “Take what you can. Not like I use ‘em.”

Burn dug through some of the items and took out a circular container. “Ooh, this smells good—.”

“Except those!” 

Whiplash snatched the lotion and closed the box flaps. Chet raised an eyebrow. “So.. you’re not going to explain why you apparently have a box of lavender lotions just lying around?”

The leader glared. “Oh, so now you’re prying into other people’s business?”

“I mean, he’s always been like that, Whip,” Turbo defended. “You don’t remember the time he did a security check through our backpacks when we came to visit him?”

“It’s giving Disney for some reason,” White Shadow hummed. Chet sighed.

“Well,” Whiplash coughed, “I just want to clarify that these sweet lavender lotions ain’t mine. They’re.. gifts for someone else! Yeah.”

“Sheesh, if you say so.”

“Ooooh!” Everyone turned to Skidmark. He picked up a book from a box and blew the dust off. “Aha! A picture book!”

White Shadow gasped. “Hey, why would you want to throw that away?!”

“H-Hold on a moment—!”

Too late, Skidmark lifted the hardcover. A photo of young Whiplash and his parents was found first. “Hey hey! This book must contain photos from Whip’s history at his winery!”

Smoove Move leaned over Skidmark’s shoulder. “Whooo, that’s some sweet place you got there, Whip. Surprised you even left it.”

“Is this a means to say that you would leave racing to be pampered spoiled?”

Smoove Move’s face fell. “...Nevermind.”

“Ohoho,” Burn cooed, pointing to one of Whiplash’s youth portraits. “Look at how adorable he is here.”

Agreement rustled among everyone as they scanned through the album. With their attention plastered on it, Whiplash couldn’t do anything, nor reach the book.

Until Turbo pointed out one photo in particular.

“Hey, who’s this?”

“Turbo, there’s only two other people in my family, and that’s my parents. Who else could it be—.”

“The girl in a prom dress,” Burn described. “She got (type) (color) hair and (color) eyes.”

“Y’know, she looks around your age, too—.” Skidmark was interrupted when the picture book disappeared from his hands. Everyone’s head turned to their leader, instantly snapping the book close.

“You good, Whip?” Smoove Move asked.

Whiplash did not respond. His back was turned to them. Instead, he opened the album back to the previous page they’d seen. 

“We knew about your past at the winery,” Turbo stepped closer, “but you never told us about a girl being in the picture— pun unintended.”

The leader sighed. “...She was an old friend.”

“More than ‘friend’ if you ask me,” Smoove Move remarked. “You guys even went to your high school prom together.”

“All right, fine! She was my girlfriend.” The man felt a rush of blood through his ears.

“Was? So she broke up with you?”

“...More like I broke up with her.”

White Shadow winced. “She wasn’t toxic, was she?”

“Hell no! Why are you guys so quick to judge?!” Whiplash pinched his nose bridge. He turned to face the crew. “(Name)’s one of the most understanding people you’ve ever met. She knew how much I despise being the next mascot of the winery.

But my parents? God, they would always get in the way. Saying things like how she wasn’t as rich as my family, or how she’d be a bad influence to me.

Hell, I had to cut things off before they tried threatening her family!” Whiplash slammed the book close, the sound resonating in his apartment. It was followed by silence.. until his anger melted into regret. “I never got to ask her where I’d be able to find her again.”

“Dang,” Burn slumped. “Those parents of yours....”

Smoove Move nodded. “For. Real.”

“We could have been able to meet her too.” White Shadow wiped a tear from his eyes.

“Whip.” Turbo frowned. “I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t give up hope though, there’s probably a chance we can find her using the photo and her name—.”

“Hey Whiplash?” Skidmark asked from three meters away, while scrolling through his laptop. “Any chance your (Name) is named (Name) (Surname)?”

~

Implication of Skidmark being part of the Secret Society.

Listen | F!Reader Insert

A/N: When the movie trailer dropped, I knew there are many opportunities for angsty fan fiction, so I kind of took one. Some of the dialogue is canon, everything else is from my imagination. Anyway, getting the characters’ "character” was a challenge. I’ll appreciate any constructive criticism to improve it. Enjoy!

Summary: Casey Jones is trying to warn them of their future.

Pairing(s): Rise! Leo X Reader (Established Relationship)

Reader: Feminine pronouns are used. No actual appearance, only mentions.

Genre: Humor / Slight Angst

Warning(s): Rushed writing. Written before release. Mentioned character death.

Word Count: ~840

~

“So what’s your business with our friend, pal?”

Casey slowly opened his eyes, groaning through the headache. The world seemed upside-down, but judging from the ropes tying his body to a chair, he got the memo. So he was knocked out and taken into the underground subway station. The human boy grimaced; the stench reeked here.

In front of him stood four mutant turtles, in addition to the presence of a sewer rat and another human. “Master.. Leonardo?” Casey murmured as he recognized the blue eye-mask and red markings.

“Hey, did you hear that?” Mikey gasped. “He knows your name!”

Leon smirked. “And he added a nice ring to it, too.”

“So Blue does mature after all.” Splinter scratched his fur.

“Great,” Donnie rolled his eyes. “Thank you for inflating his ego.”

“Guys, come on now—,” Raph began.

“Shh. Give a minute, hermanos, I’ve got a plan.” Leon announced with confidence.

All the voices blurred. Casey glanced around groggily, only to realize there was one person missing from the group. “(Name).... Urgh…. Where’s.. where’s (Name)?”

The group quieted down.

“Oho, skipping the introductions, are we?” Leon narrowed his eyes. He stepped closer to the human boy. “You got something against her too? …I’d let it go if I were you,” he threatened.

“This is what happens when random people jump straight to asking about his girlfriend before doing introductions,” Donnie remarked. Casey panicked under Leon’s glare, especially once he saw Leon pull out his katana. “Hey, hey!” Casey shook fervently. “Hold on a minute! It’s not—.”

“My hermanos, what do you think we should do with him?” The turtle pointed with the tip of his blade.

“Ooh, ooh!” Mikey raised his hand. “Give him a nasty haircut!”

Raph thrusted his fist forward. “We could use a nice punching bag.”

“Or here’s a better idea,” Donnie pulled down his goggles, doing a quick analysis of Casey, “how about I alter his brain, so we can remote-control him?”

“Pfft. Think we’ve scared him enough, boys.” April clapped her hands, making them drop the act and fall into laughter. Raph was snickering in back, seeing Casey all pale and shaken up. “Oh man, that was good.”

“Okay, okay, okay.” Leon wiped a tear. “In all seriousness, who are you, ‘cause we need to call you something other than— I don’t know, human guy?”

“...The name’s Casey Jones—.”

“Hold up, Jones as in Cassandra Jones? Never knew she has a brother,” April asked.

“Son,” he grumbled. God, how many times would they be interrupting him? “I’m her son.”

“Guys, I think he’s gone insane,” Donnie remarked.

“Careful, Don,” Mikey hushed. “Maybe he’s got trauma, and was put up with his sister being the mother role.”

Leon scratched his chin. “Seriously? Casey— I mean, Cassandra here— acting like anyone close to a mother?”

“For the record, I’m not insane!”

“Then, explain how you might be Cassandra’s son, when you’re just about her age.”

“Woah, Donnie, don’t tell me—.”

“That I took DNA samples from his teeth while he were knocked out? Why yes, yes I did.”

Casey shook in the air, which only had the rope swinging him from side to side. “Listen! You want to know how I’m her son? Simple answer is: I’m not from your time.”

“Huh?”

“...Is this going where I think it is?” Donnie covered his own mouth with his hand.

“I know how this sounds,” Casey cautioned. “But I need you to believe me, because I’m from… the future.”

…

Once again, everyone bursted out into laughter. In fact, even Splinter was amused.

“Y-you cannot be serious!” Donnie crouched over, dying. “That’s not possible!”

“Look, person named Casey,” Raph wiped another tear, “no offense, but if you’re trying to scare us, I can assure you you’ve got better things to do.”

“No! I’m trying to warn you guys about the future!”

“Right,” Leon rolled his eyes playfully. “And uh… how do we know whether we should take your word for it?”  

“Because if you won’t do something about this,” Casey’s face contorted in anger, “(NAME) IS GOING TO DIE!”

Noise slipped into immediate silence. Everyone stopped, eyes wide.

“Woah, woah,” Raph’s tone lowered, “You crossed the line there, pal.” The snapping turtle looked to his red-eared brother in concern. He found Leon clenching his hands and narrowing his eyes. “Yeah. There are other ways to get us to listen, y’know.”

“But you wouldn’t listen! And I’m not lying when I—!”

“Then, what are you talking about?!”

“Fine. Let’s start over.” Casey sighed, “My name is Casey Jones. In the future, an alien race by the name of Kraang decimated the planet. Master Leonardo gave me a mission: find the key and stop them.

When I arrived, I couldn’t recognize the place at all. Seeing Commander O’Neil, I thought she could the best person to start with.”

“What’s (Name) got to do here?” Donnie questioned.

“She—.” Casey hesitated, meeting Leon’s eyes. The red-eared slider crossed his arms. “Say it.”

“…She was killed trying to save Master Leonardo.”

Let Me Know | Turbo X F!Reader (Human AU)

A/N: Looks like I’m getting into writing fan fiction for Turbo F.A.S.T. Honestly, the show is so underrated, meaning no one question every hour why I’m in love with a snail. All I can say is that personality attracts me a lot. Enjoy!

Universe: Human AU where the F.A.S.T Crew are university students with a common interest for car racing.

Summary: You weren’t answering his messages or calls, so Turbo had to find you himself.

Genre: Fluff.

Reader: Feminine (She / Her).

Word Count: 690

~

“She’s not here?”

Your roommate shook their head. “And she never said anything about where she went?” Theo asked.

“I did ask her, but she hasn’t responded to my text.” The man could feel his heart nearly drop. Where had you gone? Your roommate saw the concern on his face and continued, “I would probably check with the library and cafés first. Maybe she has a project she needed to work on.”

Theo nodded. “Thanks.”

Walking away from your dorm, he checked through his phone. A minute passed, and he did it again. Theo tried to call you, but you made no answer, taking him to voicemail instead. “Please, just send a text,” he mumbled. Theo stared at his last message, which was sent two hours ago.

Thoughts ran in his head. The idea of you cheating on him was honestly one of his least worries. But the idea of you being kidnapped or even…. His heart started to pump faster, and Theo had to shake his head. No, he shouldn’t think that way. He needed to stay calm.

BRRING! BRRRING!

Theo jumped, immediately answering the phone call. “(Name), where—.”

“Now, where the hell did you go, Turbo!” No, it wasn’t you, but his captain. “Don’t you dare tell me you forgot about our meeting. Even your brother came and he ain’t an actual member. What, couldn’t let me know if you decided to be bold and skip out on practice—.”

“Look, Whip, I’m sorry, but I really got to find (Name). I haven’t seen her all day, and I—,” Turbo sighed. “See you.” He ended the call.

The racer sprinted to the library, the local cafés, trying not to look panicked. He even went through the career fair happening today, because he figured you’d want to find an early opportunity to get in touch with an employer. 

As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Theo’s eyes were starting to tear up. He decided to head back to your dorm, hoping that you returned. As Theo passed by, the doors to a lecture hall suddenly opened. He took a step back and watched in surprise as the administrators and students exited, all conversing with one another. 

This lecture hall was reserved for certain occasions, so Theo wondered what was happening in there—.

Was that you talking to your media productions professor?

Gosh, Theo almost shoved someone when he ran over. Your professor just left when you found your boyfriend tackling you into an embrace. “(Name), (Name),” he breathed. “…I’m so glad you’re all right.”

You exclaimed, “Turbo?” You returned the affection for a moment, until a realization had you push him away. “Don’t you have a meeting! What are you doing here, this far from the track?!”

No words fell from his lips. Theo came closer and buried his face into your neck. 

“Mmm, mmm,” he mumbled incoherently. 

“I can’t hear you, Theo.”

“I just miss you.”

You scratched his head. “All right, but you don’t need to skip out on practice. It’s not like you to not take the opportunity to race, and plus, Whiplash’s going to kick your ass for this.”

“Hey,” he pulled away, “at least I told him why I’m there.”

“But he called you first, didn’t he?”

“Sure, but at least I answered his call. I would’ve expected you to do the same, or even reply to my messages? It doesn’t have to be long, even a—.”

“You didn’t just see, Turbo? I was in the lecture hall. Phones are off in there. 

I had a presentation to convince the administrators to grant my media productions class permission to do a school-wide podcast or radio.” You rubbed your nape sheepishly. “The idea didn’t just come from our want to share news though. I, personally, also wanted to… help get more people to see the crew’s races.”

“You did that for us?”

“I mean, I did notice there was a lack of audience in the track. I thought hyping it up could work, especially since not many students actually know about you guys—.”

Theo hugged you again. “…Just give me a heads up sooner.”

Don’t | Donnie X GN!Reader

A/N: This was so lovely to write. In my opinion, Donnie would be the most challenging of the four brothers. I think there are specifics to his behavior and personality, so trying to accurately replicate it does take some time. Apologies for any out-of-characterness from Donnie. Remember that constructive criticism is always appreciated, especially for characters, and enjoy! 

Requested: @sunnyselks 

Summary: You were wounded from protecting Donnie. When you were waving off his demands to treat you, he had to take it into his own hands to tend to you.

Genre: Hurt-Comfort

Reader: Second POV. Gender-neutral pronouns if any.

Pairing: Rise!Donnie X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, needles, cuts. Argument over each other’s safety.

Word Count: ~1060

~

“Don, I’m fine.”

“Oh, sure, tell me that while your clothes are soaked in blood!” Donnie yelled. “Take off your shirt, (Name), or I’m not letting you leave the grounds of this room.”

“Donnie,” you stressed, clutching the wound on your arm. 

“(Name), don’t.”

You turned away from him, about to leave his room despite his warning. “It’s a minor injury, I’m perfectly fi—.”

Suddenly, small chips leeched onto your arm, catching you off-guard. They unfolded into wrist binds, where you realized this was his way of forcing you to stay put.

“Don!” you grunted, as the binds pulled you toward facing a wall. “Are you serious!?”

“As Galileo is about his heliocentric model.” Donnie took a binder clip from one of his desk drawers. “You leave me no choice, (Name).” As soon as the turtle lifted your shirt up from behind, chills ran over your skin from the cold air hitting the other cut on your back. He wrapped the hem over your collar, then proceeded to clip it.

“I could’ve done this myself or gone to a hospital,” you muttered.

Donnie scoffed. “And let them force you to pay expensive bills as your last resort when you have me? I thought you knew better than that.” He cleaned the blood around your wound with a wet paper towel before applying an alcohol wipe to disinfect.

“You know full well you can’t stitch your own back either. You wouldn’t want to risk inquiring your parental guardians for help in the end and being forced to give a whole explanation.”

“...”

From the corner of your eyes, you could see Donnie picking up a needle. The thought of it puncturing you made you shudder. There were vaccinations and blood tests, but they never changed your tension with needles.

You wanted to get this over with— the suspense was only making you more vulnerable.

“Are you going to inject the needle, Donnie—?” Your nails immediately dug into your palm as pain struck. "Argh..!" You winced badly.

“Don’t move,” he paused, “if that wasn’t obvious enough.”

“Easier said than done when I'm not used to having my skin pricked—!” You seethed, “Urgh.. couldn’t you have numbed it?”

“What, with lidocaine?” Donnie replied monotonously. “No, because you wouldn’t learn and would try to save me again—,” he pricked the needle the fourth time, “even though you are a human who could’ve gotten killed— God—why in the name of logic did you do that, (Name)!?”

“I did it to protect you!” you argued.

“Don’t you dare ignore the fact that you could’ve gotten killed!”

“I am capable of my own safety.”

“Scoffs. Think common sense, (Name). You’re a human,” he reminded, the anger in his voice showing. “I’m a mutant turtle; I have the biological features to defend myself!”

“You’re a soft-shelled turtle.”

Donnie stopped moving the needle. "Really, assuming that my soft-shell automatically makes me vulnerable? Are you trying to tell me I’m unable to protect myself because of that, (Name)?”

He frowned. “I have my technology— my intelligence to accommodate, so don’t put yourself in danger whenever the hell possible and let me handle myself. End of discussion.”

You wanted to slam your fists. As he was about to add another stitch, your body shook.

“They destroyed your battle shell!” Anguish scratching your voice. “Just because you're a mutant or because you have your military-grade tech, doesn't mean you won't get murdered, crushed!

God, don’t take it the wrong way. I’m not trying to assume or belittle neither you nor your tech. All I'm concerned about is keeping you alive!”

“...”

“You weakened your voice. “If me getting injured means you’d be okay, then that’s enough for me.”

Donnie’s breath hitched.

..You knew your turtle wasn’t great at apologizing, but his silence told you everything. He didn’t make a snarky or sarcastic remark.. instead, he listened.

“..I’m sorry.”

“I know. But don’t put yourself down.. I never once thought you're supposed to be perfectly strong or invulnerable. That applies to everyone all the same. Flaws happen, whether we're fine with it or not.”

You turned your head to look at Donnie. Something was still bothering him.

“But I’ll try not to scare you again if that makes you feel better.” The tension left his face, and he proceeded to finish the last few stitches.

It was all calm and quiet until he dragged his cold finger lightly over the stitched-up wound. You shuddered.

“You keep flinching so much.”

“You’re one to talk, you’re sensitive to touch as much as I am, if not so much more.”

“No, no, not that. I find it interesting, because.. I don’t see you reacting so violently when April stitched up the other cut on your back. You know, from falling off the table.” As Donnie applied a cotton pad and tape to cover your wound, he looked up to meet your eyes.  

But you quickly faced away to the other direction.

Donnie leaned the same way, one of his brows raised.

And you avoided eye-contact yet again.

.

.

.

Ah.

“You’re flustered.”

“What?” The red rushing to your ears.

“Flustered,” he repeated. “Its definition being ‘agitated, confused, ruffled—.’”

“No, I meant: how am I flustered?”

Donnie dragged his finger along your skin again. You felt your face heat up.

“You’re flustered from having your back exposed to me.”

“I’m not.” You sensed his ego returning.

“Tell that to my lie-detector and we’ll see how that goes.”

“You have a polygraph?”

“Of course not,” Donnie actually scoffed. “We all know polygraphs are never accurate enough to be trusted.” He unclipped your shirt and released the binds on your wrists.

You groaned, rubbing your aching hands. “You had me binded to a wall, and lifted my shirt to stitch my cut— so of course— I would feel exposed.. and flustered.” You sat in your turtle's desk chair.

“Yes, exactly, I did that to treat you." He crossed his arms. "And I find that hypocritical, considering you exposed yourself and your whereabouts on the Internet."

You gave him a look, before holding your knees to your chest. There was a change in expression as you whispered, "..Thanks."

Donnie stood awkwardly, rubbing his arm once he heard you and finding sincerity on your face. The soft-shelled turtle stepped closer to you and slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulders.

"Hey, I thought you don't like this intimate stuff," you joked.

Now Donnie himself became flustered. “Don’t, (Name).”