Serendipity247 - Blog Posts

ask game for fanfic writers

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that? 

talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

what’s your worst writing habit? 

where do you share your writing?

where is your favorite place to write?

what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

what is your favorite trope to write?

pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

how do you deal with writers block?

on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

handwritten notes or typed notes?

give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

do characters influence your writing style?

do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

how do you name characters and places?

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

how many stories do you work on at one time?

are you an avid reader?

best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

how did writing change you?

any writing advice you want to share?

name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

what time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?

what story are you most proud of?

do you reread your own stories?

do you want to be published some day?

do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve read fic?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve written fic?

what was the first commercial property (book/movie/tv show/etc) that you realized was actually professional fanfiction?

what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read? 

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

when have you felt the most confident in your writing? 

when have you felt the least confident?

how long will you spend on a story or scene before you give up?

how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?

what do you do if a scene gets too serious?

how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

are you a planner, pantser, or planster?

do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

how do you write kissing scenes?

how do you choose where to end a chapter?

are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?

do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

“proper” punctuation or all lowercase?

less is more or more is more?

said: overused or underused?

what would be on a moodboard for your current wip(s)?

which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

does your writing style change depending on the genre you write?

if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?

do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

how has your writing style changed over the years?

first, second, or third person?

do you hear other people’s writing styles when they talk?

do you prefer dialogue or description?

do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?

romantic/social sideplots: interesting or irritating?

abstract or detailed romance scenes?

what don’t you like about your writing style?

was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

open question to the writer.

a compiled list of asks for me to reference. they are not my own. just some of my favorite questions i’ve picked out from a couple different lists. feel free to reblog and use too!!

Hope

I’ve always had a strange affinity when it came to birds, for many a times in low moments, birds of all shapes, sizes and colors have come to grant me moments of reprieve in my melancholy.

There’s always a new bird for each season of my life, and it would appear I’ve entered a new season recently if the sudden increase of close encounters with American Robins have had any indication. Being the curious gal that I am, I took a peak at my Ornithography Book to see what possible symbol awaited for me to discover with these birds. Robins, as I found, are known simply to be messengers of hope and new beginnings. I found it somewhat fitting for that to be the message as a dear close friend mentioned that her orchid named after me was also turning a new leaf. New beginnings are all around me I suppose. I found it also interesting that I haven’t picked up a paper book in almost over a year. Something that often caused me some pain as I used to be able to burn through up to 5 novels a week when back in high school. And yet, on this day of bird watching, I had just closed the pages of a 200+ paged book, the second one in two days.

Made me stop and smile, to think that I was healing. I AM healing. It isn’t exactly the same passion at fervor that had held me captive all those years ago, but I’m getting to the point where sunshine and going out doesn’t feel like a chore anymore.

It’s something I yearn after, something to live for.

Looks like the Robins were right.

Hunter

pspsps @pvtpunsart I have something for ju…

OG beautiful art belongs to @pvtpunsart

Song: Saint Mesa’s “Wolf”

Edit done on CapCut

I hAvE nEvEr RePoStEd SoMeThInG sO fAsT iN my LiFe. THE BELOVED BESTIE SPEAKS HER TRUTH! HUZZAH! AND ONCE AGAIN PREACH SISTAH🙌🏼🧡🙌🏼

“But in all honesty I have felt more unnerved and off put by sentences written by male published fantasy authors then I have teenagers and fans writing for fun.”

This whole video is great, especially with talking about the “fanfiction is the fast food of literature” take. But in all honesty I have felt more unnerved and off put by sentences written by male published fantasy authors then I have teenagers and fans writing for fun.

You. Yes. Keep that. That’s good.

At least once a day, there is a moment where I have the deepest need to climb into his lap, feel those big green arms wrap around me, and just fall apart.

There's something unfair about that.

Ok so opening tumblr is a gamble because I wasn’t expecting to be SHOT in the feelings first thing in the morning!

Some Sunset Duo hurt/comfort (emphasis on the comfort) <3

Youngest siblings sometimes get unfairly stereotyped as the "spoiled/bratty/annoying little sibling", and I imagine Mikey internalizes this at some point. Part of Mikey's fight for independence is rooted in fear that he's a burden to his brothers, assumption that Raph only cares for him out of obligation, and desire to relieve Raph of some of his "big bro" responsibilities. While Raph did grow up believing he had a crushing amount of obligation as the oldest bro, he loved brotherly physical affection and was hurt when Mikey requested to stop being carried/held/cuddled/etc. The topic comes up during a conversation when they're in their 20s (after Raph starts learning about healthy detachment, which helps him set boundaries and allow others to help/take care of him, too), and the honest conversation helps relieve both of their concerns.

Just a lil headcanon :)

sir…SiR…SIR

Donnie has NO right to look that good in that suit, he’s fabulous your honor n it’s maddening

I figured why this song finally fits, it’s because Donnie can really put the “Disaster” in Disaster Duo 😆🙌🏼💜

Also…eyebrows and dramatic noises to boot

Hewoo Friendo!

Sorry to randomly drop in, but I was listening to a playlist today and the song “We are Number One” from LazyTown of all things came on, and I just stopped and stared at the wall for a moment because I realized that THAT was what your art sounds like to me, specifically your Donnie. I know that sounds so so so weird and I’m sorry for how random it is, but the synesthesia was very persistent and thought you’d be interested in knowing about it. AnYwHizZlE, I hope you know how much I absolutely cherish your art, like it makes me silly grin every time I see it and I desperately want to squish your version of the boys in bear hugs till their eyes bug out like dog toys because they are just so scrunchable you know? You’re art is cool, you are cool and you seem the type of person who I would make the sickest bestie and so I sincerely wish you the best of luck and respectable love to you and your corner of the world today! 🧡🫡

Honestly? A huge compliment; that song is a banger. Here's a DONNIE ROTTEN!!!

I'm happy my art can bring you joy! When I was in high school, I wanted nothing more than to be a serious artist who only made serious top of the line drawings, because that's what I thought I had to progress to if I really liked art, and that really killed my passion to just create what I liked.

I like shenanigans! I love fun, silly drawings with big energy and loud characters, I love colors and shapes and making people laugh!

Thank you for enjoying what I create! I hope you find a mote of sunshine to keep in your pocket today.

Here's the song if anyone is unfortunate enough to have never heard it (or you just want to indulge in some Whimsy)

Hewoo! 👋🏼

I hope you had the most fantastic Christmas this year because I know I did after reading your adorable little one shot about toddler Leo. Most wholesome 🤌🏼✨

And I was wondering if you had any additional thoughts or possible headcannons to add about if Y/N happened to turn into a toddler for a day and how the turtles react? 👀👀👀

No worries if you don’t, just thought I’d ask cuz you got me thinking! Thank you again!

This is super rough, but I think it needs to be. There was a lot more that was supposed to happen, but when I got to the nitty gritty of it, some of it just got taken out. I hope this is to your liking, anon.

Rated M, Rise Leo, post Krang invasion WARNING: Panic Attacks, mention of mental and emotional abuse

When Leon hears the shout, he's already rushing down the corridor. By the time he hears his name, the lab door is opening, and he's making his way to the back. But no matter how fast he runs, no matter how quickly he tries, there is no making it in time. There is no help or fix because when he gets there, he can only notice his brother unsure of how to approach the child on the floor of his chemistry lab. He can only watch and half-hear Donnie swear to oblivion as he tries to figure out how they got here… and what to do.

"I thought you agreed not to store anything this volatile near the sink?"

"Gasp! You had to drink it for it to have any effect!"

"Her skin isn't as tough as ours!"

"I wasn't aware that the keratin levels would change things this greatly!"

Only to realize by the whimper he hears next that he fucked up.

It's so small. It's so goddamn tiny. He knows you to be soft-spoken at best, quiet at worst, but he — he can't have this argument with his brother, not now.

He carefully, deliberately approaches the bundle of clothes you're in. He watches you shift within, trying to hide in plain sight as he asks Donnie to get you some clothes.

"Estrella? Mi…" he starts only to trail off, realizing he can't, that it's inappropriate.

You're a child. You're a kid. You might be the love of his life, but you're no longer…

"Sweetheart?" he tries, hoping that you come out.

You don't. If anything, you flatten to the ground, almost disappearing in that pretty dress of yours. He can only watch you curl into a ball and flinch as he moves your shoes aside to sit in front of the mess. He hopes to coax you with the gentle, kind tone he knows you usually respond to, if only with a little hesitance, but his heart breaks when you whine and back away from his hand. And he's not sure how to deal with the way his brothers stampede in to help, and only Mikey, Mikey gets a positive response.

-xxx-

Donnie promises a fix and locks himself in his lab. He watches his older brother try to interact with you only to realize that it's taking everything out of you to stay put and not cry. And he has to watch you being held by his baby brother, who keeps telling you story after story.

According to what his genius twin figured out, you should be around four or five. You should be able to talk, hold a conversation. It's why Mikey keeps talking to you, keeps telling you stories. He's trying to get a reaction, something out of you. You're not giving him anything back, though. You might as well be mute. And it worries Leo. It scares him. It makes him wonder if you lied about your time with your aunt or if he severely underestimated the damage that was left behind.

He wants to say neither. He's scared it's both, certainly when he can look up from his phone and find your gaze straight on him.

That's another thing. You have not stopped staring. He's not allowed to touch you or be alone with you, but you refuse to let him out of your sight. Each time he tries to leave, you fuss. Hell, one of your most recent attempts led to you nearly hurting yourself since you'd tried to leave the counter, forcing him into action and getting the beginnings of an answer he wishes he didn't have.

Your eyes filled with tears. You looked at him in fear, absolute panic, before you struggled, and he let you go. Leo attempted to make his exit then, seeing that you weren't going to be running around for who knows how long in their ratty old clothes. However, the second he moved, you held on. You clung to his legs and hid your face in his jeans. That was when he knew he couldn't leave you, even if it somehow hurt you.

He hates it. If there's one thing he's been priding himself on, it's the fact that he's been your shield, your shell throughout the entire time he's been with you. He strives to keep you safe, keep you secure in their dangerous world. And yet now… he's become the biggest source of pain, of anguish, and he doesn't know why.

If only you would talk. If only you would say something. He would stop hurting you, eliminate whatever it is of him that hurts you. But removing himself gets you upset, touching you makes you cry, and you won't talk.

Maybe he's blowing this out of proportion. Maybe he's seeing things that don't exist. Maybe he just needs to concentrate on what must happen and leave everything behind.

-xxx-

Leon enlists Casey's help to take you to the store since Mikey can't come along to buy you clothes. He's grateful for the young man's arrival, even if it pains him to watch you hold the latter's hand instead of his own. And he can't help the smile as you all walk in, and curiosity immediately lights your eyes.

He knows this. He recognizes this. He might even say that he'd hoped for this. He remembers your face as you looked through his things, and he's glad to find it well and alive in you, even if you're still behaving extremely well. It even tempts him to speak in hopes that he gets an answer.

"See something you like?"

However, when all he gets is hesitation, he immediately remembers what exactly happened and what might just happen now. Worry sprouts at the forefront of his mind as you refuse to move and even cling to Casey, although you let him go the second he starts agreeing with Leo. And it blooms to annoyance, almost anger when no amount of coaxing, no amount of gentleness gets you to grab anything to wear for yourself.

Is this how they treated you? Did you not get to choose, or were your choices criticized before they were ripped out from under you, and you were told it wasn't okay? Are you doubting your own choices because of it, or letting them choose? Does it matter? Do you even — NO. No. He can't just… but how? How can he make this better? He's not an expert when it comes to children. He doesn't understand any of this.

But he can try, can't he?

He looks at a distressed, unsure Casey, who seems ready to rush into the aisles just to get something. He watches you, stiff and near tears, probably just as frustrated as he is.

"Hey," he voices and sees you turn to him. "Are we doing something wrong?"

And he can't help but smile as you vigorously shake your head, the water in your eyes fading with a few blinks. You might take a step back as he sets a knee down in front of you, but he still smiles, hoping that this… is the start of something.

"Well, in that case, I want you to know that we're letting you choose because we don't know how long this is gonna last, and we don't want you running around in just those clothes, certainly when they might cause you trouble. So… can you help us find clothes for you? Stuff you either need or want to wear?"

It feels like it is when you hesitantly reach for his open hand only to change your mind and head for Casey's the second your fingertips brush his palm. It almost feels like a win when you start bringing them into the aisles, not quite heading for the clothes but heading for something far more important as you point to two bags he picks up only to smile at the content as you look for another bag. Underwear. He puts them in the cart before welcoming the socks with a chuckle and moving on to shoes.

The step back you take worries him a little, but Leo can only breathe as Casey takes over. Since he's closer, he can see you hesitate over the ones that tempt you, and he gets you to try them on. The little scowl when they feel uncomfortable makes Leon snort, but nothing equals the moment when you find your shoes. While there's no real smile on your face, the way you tap along the floor and even spare him a glance tells him everything he needs to know. The little pair ends up in the cart before you all move back to the clothes.

This time, even though you still hesitate, when Casey pulls you into the racks, you follow and you look. Your gaze is everywhere, and your hands touch everything. Case even tries a few times to give you options he thinks you might like, and while Leo worries when you look at the price tag, the thing that makes him realize that this might not be about the price is when you touch the fabric and your face scrunches. You're definitely looking for something specific, and nothing tells him that more than when you stop.

You hesitate before pulling it off the rack. He holds his breath as he watches you trying to decide whether to approach him or not. You eventually do as he swallows, eyes darting around. It's not the most expensive thing, but it's not the cheapest. The garment, the dress, is adorable and reminds him of the clothes you made for yourself. There's… just one problem.

It's white. That white won't last long in the Lair. However, as he's looking around and asking questions, he's realizing there's nothing else like it in the store. There's a reason why you zeroed in on this dress, and he doesn't have it in him to tell you no, not with the courage it took you to even look.

However…

"Considering how long white would last in the Lair, you against modifying it so it lasts longer?"

He blinks and immediately brings up a hand when you jump before giving a small glare at Casey, who looks sufficiently cowed but still insists, earning him a look he's almost too familiar with.

"Grab a few more and then lead the way," is the only reasonable answer and he knows it, just like he knows he'll never forget that smile.

-xxx-

Your laughter is an explosion. It brings a smile to Leo's face and a chuckle to his throat. Your squeals make him lightheaded and joyful, certainly when it's accompanied by both his youngest and oldest brothers' laughter as your face gets streaks of paint on it. After watching you reconcile and try with Raph with a piece of ribbon you've put around one of his teddy bears' neck, it's been nothing short of amazing. It's to the point that Leo has caught himself multiple times with his phone out, recording the moments and wondering what you'd think, if you'd enjoy looking back on this as much as he would.

Because this is the most lively he ever remembers you being. Through all the tickle and pillow fights, he doesn't remember you squealing or your voice carrying so far, even his softshell brother can only wander down in wonder. This is you in your purest form. With the highest of highs and the lowest of lows.

He expects you to crash. You don't. Instead, he gets to watch you dawdle around as dread seemingly sinks into you, and he's reminded of something… highly uncomfortable when your eyes meet and you stop for a moment, gaze almost pleading.

This is not a single fight. This is a war. And the next tide… is tonight.

It takes a moment, but he manages to wrestle you away from his youngest brother. He then has to wrestle with you so that you can have the bed while he settles into a recliner you usually use when you're having a migraine and need to relax. And, when he notices you stay awake for longer than you should, he suggests a tale. One he weaves himself with memories and a bit of imagination until you fall asleep when you nod and your eyes slowly drift close.

One more wave broken before it batters your shore. He hopes he has the energy in him to keep it up.

-xxx-

The dresses that await you in the morning immediately cheer you up. Your enthusiasm as you put on the one you all tie-dyed makes him chuckle as you rush upstairs to show it off to Mikey, who coos and makes you twirl a few times to show it off. And he can't help the half-smile as you insist on helping with breakfast, even if the best you can do is get everyone their drink of choice.

… You're cute. Your smile is the most adorable thing he's ever seen. He wonders if you were ever told, if you were ever –

His eyes widen as you trip. He sees your own do the same before you hit the floor with a crash. He tries not to flinch when the carafe that was once in your hands shatters. But he can only watch you pale and your eyes mist over before you look at both of them in expectation… and terror.

… No…

He moves. One second, he's seated at the island, the next, he's holding you against his chest. He feels you struggle, beat your tiny fists against the hard keratin, but all he can do is look at Mikey who only nods before he leaves with you in his arms. He can only hold you close as he zips his way to the med bay to check for any injuries. And he can only walk his way back to his room when he finds nothing, and your reaction starts changing.

Quiet little sounds climb and climb until it's all he can hear. Tiny fists that beat on his plastron now cling to the robe he puts on all while holding you close. And it's hard not to notice, not feel the damp spot that immediately forms as you sob, near wail through years, nearly a decade of pain that you struggled with.

Now, he gets it. Now, he understands. He wishes he didn't, but he does.

"Leo?"

He lifts his head. He can barely see his oldest brother through the mess that is his vision, but he tries as the latter approaches. And he can only chirp gratefully as he's lifted from the bed into Raph's arms while he tightly holds onto you, trying to soothe you as best he can. He doesn't need to see where he's going, his brother has that covered, he just — he just…

The settling in the TV room feels all too soon and all too late as you hiccup in his arms. He only shifts towards his brother, though, while the latter calls for the rest of the family. Just like he can only breathe when you slowly settle into uneasy sleep and he thanks his brothers for helping.

The tsunami might have hit, but they're not letting you get taken by the wave.

-xxx-

It's not a simple wave. It's a storm. It's a hurricane of incredible proportions that shakes you to the core. And he hates it. He hates it. Not because he wants to stop it, but because it's there in the first place.

From the day Leo first met you, his biggest fear has been ruining you. That he would somehow, some way, destroy the light that he could see within you just by being himself. That fear nearly ate him alive as he concentrated on a light he thought he could only admire, never understand.

Yet now, he does, and he realizes something that makes him bleed.

He could never ruin you.

… No, he could. He could hurt you beyond repair. They all could. The fact that this was caused by your own family is proof that anyone could take what you'd built and destroy it. But he couldn't get himself to. He would never go that far. No one in his family would. Because to snuff out the light… was to destroy the one who gave birth to it.

And he loves you too much to even think he could do that. He loves you so much that he soothes you every night with a story. That he keeps close and, the second you ask for him, he's there, holding you tight and letting you cry. That, by the end of the week and Donnie finally finds a remedy for you, he knows exactly what to do.

He smiles as you come out. He lets you distract yourself with work and conversation that you smile during with that ever soft, recognizable smile. He lets you help, be the tool you think you are. It's only at nightfall, after patrol and telling his brothers what might just happen, that he acts, and it starts with him finding you in their bed and joining you in a way he knows is going to get a response as long as you're awake.

"I'm sorry, Leon. Not tonight."

"I know."

Because he needs you to be for the next step.

"Then what –?"

"You're safe."

He schools his mouth as he feels you freeze.

"… Wha –?"

"You're safe here."

He keeps you in place as you try to shift.

"Leo, what –?"

"You're safe."

"Leo –"

"You're safe with me. With us. We'll always keep you safe. Your future is in my hands, and I'll make sure it's as bright as I can manage. And if your past tries to find you, I will personally take care of it. So you're safe. You're so incredibly safe. I've got you, mi estrella hermosa. Te tengo, amor de mi vida."

"Leo… Leo, don't…"

And something finally, finally clicks into place as he smiles at your trembling tone, delivering the same answer you still barrage him with.

"No."

He lets you shift. He welcomes your face burying itself in the hard keratin of his chest and the quiet sobs. He even welcomes his own tears and his oldest brother lifting both of you out of bed and into the TV Room for a pile up, having waited for his cue.

Because Leo gets it. He finally gets it. And while he can't erase the past, he can make sure it never happens again.

You are his friend. You are his love. You are his mate. You are family. And you will never be alone ever again.

taglist:

@silverwatergalaxy @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @thelaundrybitch @luckycharms1701 @thepinkpanther83

@avery73 @the-cauldron-witch @redsrooftopprincess @iridescentflamingo @ninnosaurus

@milykins @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @truffle-reblogs @adebauchedsloth

@raphsmuneca @theanonymousninja247

…

Yo También 💙

I love his big chin...

GUYS GUYS GUYS LOOK! I GET A SWORD!

Heh…I guess that’s because I’m “baaa”d A tumblr 😏😆👉🏼👉🏼

Anyhoo, yall should go check out @sheep-turtles-and-pizza because their art is amazing and very much wholesome. Do it or ima come at you with my sheep sword 😆🐑🥷🏽*excitedly starts waving it around like smol child*

Great thanks to my first supporters

@fauxinsox (aka one of my fav writer, she's a gem!)

@theanonymousninja247 (great supporter since I start my teetles blog!)

@venelona (MY WIFEY! MY STICK! MY BOAT!)

Support me on my Kofi

A good reminder for anybody that anyone great had to start somewhere.

embarrassment has good bones

Because Him’s Alive

Watch the video!! It’s really good stuff! Promise!

Also lil somethin I finally connected this week

Easter comes from the word East, which is the direction that the sun rises from each and every day. Sun rises are often symbols of literal new days. New hopes. Fresh Beginnings. I think it’s a beautiful metaphor that of all the titles we could call this holiday, we ch pose the simple reminder that because the Son did rise, we can all rise again as well. 🌅🌱 Happy Easter Y’all🌱🌅

Please please please remember that God loves you in ways you can’t even imagine and because of Him, you can always change, you can always grow, and are never alone in doing so 🫂🧡🌱

Went looking for this one again; in a mood tonight

14. Three more hours

Hello sophia!!! 👋 Thank you for sending in this prompt! I had to sit on this one a bit, but I hope you like what I whipped up!

#14 "Three more hours." w/ all 4 turtles! (aged up Bayverse - some tension and some comfort ahead!)

><><><><><><><><

"Three more hours," you reassured yourself in a hush. "Just three more. You can do this. It's fine. Everything is fine."

What it was exactly that made you nervous in the first place, you couldn't say. You'd been more than ready to climb into bed. Eager as you crawled in under your weighted blanket, happily looking forward to sweet dreams that were hopefully waiting for you just on the other side of conscious thought. Tired eyes falling closed readily, sleep coming to quiet your mind, when suddenly, fear clutched at your chest, starting you wide awake.

Worry over four brothers flooded you. Four brothers who were out, moving about in the darkness of night, doing their part to protect this city you called home. Putting themselves in harm's way just as they did every night. Four brothers who, if you were really honest with yourself, you loved very deeply.

But why the anxiety tonight? Why the sudden stress? Sure, you worried about them all the time. Always the lingering concern for their safety and well-being. The secret life they lead was far from being risk-free after all. But it'd never shook you from sleep like it had tonight.

Something had to be wrong. Really wrong.

So here you were, pacing about an uncomfortably quiet lair, fretting over what dangers your four dearly cherished humanoid turtles had to be battling against right now. Trying in vain to occupy your worried mind. Distract yourself from your thoughts, imagination embellishing each into bleaker and bleaker scenarios.

Another glance at the clock. Another anguished sigh. "Two more hours." Could you do it? Could you remain there, drowning in perturbation, obediently waiting for their scheduled hour of return?

Your fingers tapped your phone. A quick text message couldn't hurt, right? You'd done it before. But what if that made things worse? What if they were in a bad position, injured and waiting it out for the threat to subside? And then the chime of your text gave them away? No. No, you couldn't risk it.

But surely, if there were something that serious going on, there'd be signs right? More sirens and alarms than normal. The media buzzing on the news with Breaking Reports. Chatter and static all over the guy's radios. A call from April or Jones at least. Right? Right???

A rumbling groan let loose as you slumped down onto their reinforced couch. How in the world did Master Splinter handle this? Especially when they were younger??? No wonder his brown fur was already grey, going on white. You were sure at this point you'd be joining him in that department soon yourself.

You couldn't handle this sitting and waiting any more.

You'd taken to scrubbing the floors throughout the common areas of the lair so intently that you didn't even recognize the next couple of hours slipping by. It wasn't until you heard heavy footsteps drawing near that you snapped out of it and rushed to the entrance. Nerves reaggravated and your stomach turning as you braced to be met with the terrible state they must be in.

But instead of confirmed dread, you were met with four very tired terrapins dragging themselves home. Exhaustion evident in their slumped shoulders and dropped heads. No apparent signs of injury or duress.

You could have cried in relief.

The four looked to you then glanced around to each other, then at the clock, and back to you. But there were no smiles. No hugs. No expressions of normal greeting.

Oh great, something really was wrong.

"What - what are you doing, (Y/N)?" Donnie inquired. He looked you up and down, taking in your rolled up sleeves, disheveled hair and the mop bucket just a few feet away from you. "And why are you cleaning? What's wrong?"

"Oh," you glanced back at the bucket of soapy water. "I - just - um - nothing's wrong. Just couldn't sleep," you lied.

Four flat expressions met your words.

"That's your stress cleaning," Leo stated matter-of-factly. "You only use that mop when you're stressed. What's going on?"

The four remained still in front of you. Each blinking slowly and giving slow, heavy breaths tied to weariness.

Guilt settled in where worry had currently been bedding. You twisted your fingers nervously. It was true. You were stress cleaning. And they were all looking like they were on the verge of collapsing. Yet here they were, waiting for your explanation.

You dropped your eyes. "I couldn't sleep because I was worried about you guys. Something just - just felt like it was really, really wrong. I just needed to make sure you guys were okay. That you were safe. I was scared - well - I guess I was just scared. For you guys."

No reaction.

When you raised your eyes back to the four, their expressions hadn't changed at all. Not one of them spoke to dispel your concerns.

So something was wrong!

Leo sounded off a few clicks. The other three immediately turned to their respective rooms. Leo following behind. Leaving you standing alone without a word.

Okay, you thought to yourself. Okay. They're just really tired. That's all. It's okay. It's alright. You wiped a shaky tear away from your eye. They're home. And they're all safe. That's what matters. You could talk to them about what happened later. They just to get some sleep.

Emptying the mop bucket, you tried to keep yourself from tearing up. Constantly retelling yourself that as of right now, there was nothing to stress over anymore. They hadn't meant to be outright rude. Or hurtful. Or show total disregard for your worry. They were just tired. That was it. It was okay.

Raph reemerged just as you were throwing your jacket around your shoulders. He was only wearing a loose pair of red shorts now. A heap of blankets atop his shoulder and his mattress pulled along under his other arm. He cast a look down on you under heavy eyelids. "Where you goin?"

Donnie and Mikey came into the room as Raph dropped his mattress down in front of the couch. For the first time you'd ever seen, Donnie was wearing shorts, and Mikey was in a baggy pair of lounge pants. They were carrying their mattresses and bedding as well. Leo, in silky blue sleep pants, joined right after.

Nothing was said as they began making their beds. Each mattress pressed against the other, fashioning a massive bed topped with extra blankets and pillows. You watched on, still unsure what the guys were doing.

You felt a pair of large hands on you, nearly making you jump. Mikey was carefully working your jacket back off your shoulders as Leo reached up, wrapping an arm around your waist. His pull was gentle as he encouraged you down into the middle of the bed. Donnie, Raph and Mikey climbed in right behind. The four of them settling in around you.

Raph's heavy hand curled around one of your calves. Mikey draped an arm over your waist. Donnie rested his hand over the back of your shoulder, his thumb stroking gentle circles as his tired eyes finally closed. Leo threaded his two fingers between yours and held your hand tight.

"Sorry we scared you." The words were quiet. Almost sounding ashamed.

"Hey," you soothed back. "No apologies. That's my job. To love you guys. And with love comes worry."

A gentle squeeze from Raph's hand and a heavy sigh from Mikey met your words.

"You guys are worth it. Especially to me." The five of you sat in silence a moment, taking comfort in all being together. "Goodnight, guys. Sweet dreams." You let your own heavy eyes close and snuggled in, happier than you thought having them all so close as you slept.

"G'night."

"Sweet dreams, (Y/N)."

"Night."

"Goodnight. Have sweet dreams," Leo whispered.

The lair fell back into silence. The four brothers laying still. Allowing the comfort of you being here, of them all being together, to help them drift off to sleep. Each silently resolving to themselves to not let you know how right you were. And how very terrible the night had actually been.

><><><><><><><><

@luckycharms1701 @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @celticvix @writinandcrying @donniesgirlie @gornackeaterofworlds @thelaundrybitch @tmnt-tychou

Um OW?! HELLO?! Excuse me?! What is this?

W H A T is this?!

New animatic drop! Had this lurking in the background for a bit so it was time to finish it.

CREDITS:

SONG: Iscariot - The Vassar Devils

Watch it on YouTube here!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRYl20TvLnM&ab_channel=GaiaRuggenini

Well how bout dat…

Also….pst @anobodyinabog get a load of this since you’re one of us now 😆🧡

I can drink 3 cups of coffee and go straight to sleep, this is just one example of what is fundamentaly wrong with me as a person

I can’t not tell you the amount of absolute childish glee I get from watching this video 😆

the playlist of songs to which WE may jammy-jam (this is a threat and a promise)

Temi the Speed Boat

@mrabubu I’m so sorry but I couldn’t help it 🤣

Original Comic found here! 🎵Song: Free Bird TOTEM Remix 🎵

by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Baby Temi

PST @mrabubu I have a little something for ju…

First off I just wanted to say that I absolutely A D O R E your Kraangified AU! Like it makes me smile every time I see it. It’s the most darling storyline I’ve had the privilege of reading and watching you develop. Since I adore it so, now it follows me to some degree every where I go. As such, this was sent into my family chat (it’s my niece at the beach) and all I could imagine was baby Temi waddling around like this because of her shell. Hope it makes you laugh just as much as I did🧡

I feel so incredibly called out by this on so many levels that I’m just sitting in my car with my head on my wheel trying not to get mad at how accurate this is

What I think I look like in my mind after spending all day in my fantasy world kicking ass and taking names:

How the rest of the world sees me in real life:

@theanonymousninja247

oh to be small enough to be cuddled and cradled like this 🥺🧡❤️🫂

A little G/t Sunset Duo I drew to decompress from school <3 They're watching a movie and Mikey is stimming with Raph's tail :)

On another note, I've closed asks because of my busy IRL schedule, but my DMs are still open for art commissions.

Uhhhhhh don’t think so, lemme go check the color wheel though. Be right back in a sec….

*sounds of papers rustling as I go digging through my notes and then comes back to push the gasses back up my nose with a small clear of my throat*

Dearest @saspas-corner, after consulting with my previous notes and past conversations, I’d like to state that you are still very much a Vintage Watermelon.

mutuals i am politely asking you what color i remind you of

I Can Do Anything Good

Some silly little thoughts I’ve been cooking

Little fun fact about me, I’m currently studying Human Development and Family Studies with the intent to hopefully become a Marriage and Family counselor one day. Because of this, there’s a lot of cool classes I get to take that all interlock one way or another. One of those classes I’m currently taking is “The Body, Sexual Intimacy, and The Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

And this week, we had a discussion about how body image is directly related to sexual satisfaction. Mainly in the fact that high positive body image relates to greater sexual satisfaction over longer periods of time.

As someone who has somewhat always struggled with having positive views about her body, this was somewhat of a blow for me. I mean it makes sense, but I felt somewhat disheartened to hear that how I viewed myself really could adversely affect those special moments with a further partner. Not going to lie, felt a little hopeless about it. Then one comment was shared about one possible way to help overcome low body image beliefs about yourself that really stuck with me, and I wish to share it y’all.

That thought was that if you can not love your body right now, that’s ok. You don’t have to love your body, but you can learn to be grateful about what your body can and already does for you. Simple thing, but it really changed my perspective on how I want to view myself. So just want everybody to know that this is the type energy I’m attempting to adopt when it comes to my life and my body image.

Do you ever find yourself remembering a fic?

Because a word became somewhat of trigger?

A word, a thought, a feeling so simply captured that it very much felt like poetry in the way that it impressed upon your heart and your mind so deeply that it echoes through time and space to find you in the here and now, somehow someway?

I had that feeling today, with these snippets specifically. I hope you know I went searching for this. Legit looking for it. Took a couple hours trying to find it. Only remembering the vibe, the feelings it stirred and a single word.

Tethered especially. Such a fascinating concept that my mind took a hold of and CLUNG to it all these years later. Like…there are no words to explain how much this…struck me…

I also went searching for this reaction photo because it was the only one that came close to capturing my feelings tonight.

Like I’m sitting alone tonight, with my thoughts, with my feelings, just thinking about how someone’s words back on a day in May literally changed my brain chemistry.

Hey, Love your stories btw. Saw requests are open and just wondering if you would write how turtles would be with a partner that overthinks?

Kind of like comfort, mostly fluff scene?

Whelp. I wish I could say I didn't overthink this, but I am not a lying liar who lies. Hope this is to your style anon. I want to apologize in advance for somehow not being able to work Raph smooching his reader into the story, but his Reader is a little too angry for smooches

Bayverse Turtles x Reader, set in 2023 (turtles 22 ish)

G/N Reader (somehow i managed that, but names like sweetheart and babycakes are used.) No Y/N

Warnings/Summary : um... fluff. like comfort. n fluff. angst if you think about the fact that reader is not ok at the beginning of each scene. allusions to sexy times in some of them

Tether

Leo peered into your window, found you splayed out on your bed, legs up the wall and staring off into space. He let himself in via the window in your living room, making sure to step loudly as he made his way to your room. 

You hadn’t moved from that spot. He took the moment to shuck his swords, his belt, placing them across the surface of your dresser, before moving to fold his upper half on your bed, beside your gently rising chest.

“Hey.” That low, calm voice pulls you back from wherever you were, the soft touch of a careful finger against the angle of your cheekbone too common an occurrence to really faze you anymore.

“Leo.” You rasped, fingers idly rubbing against your chest as you drank him in. The bed shifted as he leaned a little further over you, lips plush where they pressed against your cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in?”

A soft snort, his movements still slow, still gentle. “I noticed. Where were you?”

You frowned, turned to stare at the ceiling before turning back to the blue banded turtle. “I was thinking.”

“Of course.” He stated it like it was a fact of life, as easy as breathing and as sure as the sun, no judgement in his too blue eyes.

You found yourself smiling despite still feeling a little lost, knowing he wouldn’t want you to apologize. “I don’t really remember how it started.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

You paused, thinking, before pulling a face.

It pulled a small chuckle from his snout. “You are the opposite of Dee.” 

At your questioning hum, he elaborated. “You both think too much. But he lets it all out, you hold it in.” He gently tapped the point above the center of your rib cage, before moving to brush that same, careful finger down the planes of your face. He continued when your eyes strayed back to the ceiling, “I’ll listen, if or when you need to talk.”

“I don’t know if it’ll help.” You still hadn’t reached out to him, thumbs rubbing over their counterpart’s opposite knuckles. “I just feel a little- untethered.”

He tilted his head, pressed the ridge of his brow against your face, tucked it under the curve of your jaw, slowly slid down to the bones in your collar. “I can tether you.” He whispered, against your skin. “Let me tether you.”

You probably would laugh at the corny line he delivered so seriously, if not for the fact that it was working. His weight, the immediacy of his presence, grounded your fraying thoughts, reeled them back in until you could see the edges of yourself underneath.

He breathed in deeply near the dip at the bottom of your collar, letting you feel the rush of air, let it guide you back. One large hand slipped up against your own, fingers interlocking as he urged your thumbs to stop moving.

A slow sweep of his thumb, far larger than yours, against the inside of your wrist, the callus on the inside of his digit whispering across the softer skin. 

“Shhhh… there you go.” He leaned further across the bed, pushed your face further upwards, the curve of his snout now against your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, darling. I’m here."

This time, when he took in a deep, steady breath, his chest brushed against your arm, and you felt his air flutter across your face. After a long, silent moment, you turned your head towards his own, fingers twisting to rub against his knuckles instead of your own.

“There we go. Just breathe.” He took another steady breath, urged you to mimic him. It was as though you had forgotten the feeling, your lungs rushing with air, swelling to a point almost painful. Thoughts quieted, the mental bits of papers and half formed thoughts returning to their even piles inside the floor of your mind.

Leo shooshed you again, and you realized there had been a hiccup in your breaths. He shifted, his arms unfurling, letting you roll closer, onto your side. He moved to rest the dip where his snout met his cheek against the upturned side of your face, rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Leo.” You breathed again, feeling the heavy weight of his arm across your waist, loosened fist in between your shoulder blades. You tucked your face against the arm in front of you, rubbed your face in time with his against the pebbled skin.

“I’m here. You’re here. Just breathe.” He repeated.

He let you wrap an arm around his neck, fingers curling over the rim of his carapace, holding him in your space. He let out a hum, the sound deepening, becoming that comforting thump thump thump in his chest, faster than any heartbeat.

You hand tightened in his own, your head turning to find his gaze.

He gave you a small quirk of lips, his snout touching your nose delicately. “Hey, you.”

You know he felt the small puff of laughter, close as he was. “Hey, you back.” You let go of his shell, wrapped your arm around the back of his head, pulled him closer, just to hear that noise in his chest thump louder.

Vibration

Donnie found you in the least likely of spaces, curled up under his desk, his computer chair pulled in tight as if to make a tiny box. He had to fold in on himself to duck down low enough to catch your gaze.

You looked at him easy enough, eyes hazy and out of focus, wincing slightly at his soft whisper:

“Hey,” he drew the word out gently, “what’s wrong?” 

You didn’t want to tell him your thoughts were running a mile a minute, and the only place dark enough to hide from them was under his desk. You didn’t want to confess that your skin felt three sizes too small, and every breath felt like whatever made you, you, would escape if you weren’t careful.

“Overthinking?” Donnie shuffled closer, hands raising, pausing before he touched you. His head tilted to the side, considering, hazel eyes moving over your shivering, overstimulated form. After a long moment, he dropped his hands away from your space, instead reaching up just enough to grab his keyboard. 

“Hold on, sweetheart. I got something that might help.”

At this point you were desperate enough to just nod, closing your eyes and easing your head in your hands. After a few minutes of his typing, the keys clicking loud in the space, he turned on low music.

And, blessedly, you could feel more than hear. The beat vibrated through the lab, the bass high enough that everything not nailed down shivered. You had enough mind to watch Donnie move to close the door, before he was back on the floor next to you, one large arm braced on the overhang of the desk as he swayed into the little dark spot you had created.

“How are you doing? Is this helping?” At your shaky nod, he nods back, hand rising to softly trail the back of his knuckles down the outside of your nearest arm. 

You let out a soft gasp at the feeling, the fire ants dancing across your skin retreating under the coolness of his skin. “Dee?” 

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Tell me what you need?” He rubbed his knuckles back up your arm, paying attention to the way your limb stopped shaking.

You turned to him, stared at the column of his throat, not yet able to meet his too knowing gaze. “More. Please.”

He ducked away for a minute, and you heard the music change, the sound and vibrations starting to oscillate from one side of the room to the other.

“Thank god for surround sound, hm?” Donnie smiled at you when he came back, knuckles returning to their slow sweep.

That got a faint, brittle laugh out of you, your grip shifting on the arms of his chair, opening and closing against the elbow pads.

Donnie moved further into your little alcove, his shell blocking most of the light. “Do you want to come with me, go lay down?” At the quick shake of your head, he tried a different angle. “Do you want to sit in the chair, instead? The ground can’t be very comfortable, and I don’t know when’s the last time I cleaned under there.”

That- that worked. You unfurled, back cramping from how long you’d been hunched over in the little space. You let Donnie pull you into his lap, into his chair, fitting your knees on either side of his thighs and burying yourself in his shoulder.

“There. Much better.” His words came out in a chirp, cool hands coming up to rub along the curve of your back, switching to running his knuckles along your muscles when you shivered at too much skin contact.

The music drowned out everything, and in the all encompassing shake, his touch became bearable, an outside stimulus to focus on. It allowed you to just, stop thinking, stop worrying, condensing all those all-consuming thoughts into a smaller and smaller pile until you could shove them back into the box they’d escaped from.

You sniffled against Donnie’s skin, felt his head dip to rub his cheek on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. Not talking, not yet, just letting the vibrations do their work. Waiting for you to interact back, waiting for the all clear.

If you opened your eyes, you know you would meet his concerned gaze. After this long, being the object of Donnie’s sole focus wasn’t nearly as intense as it was in the beginning. Now, you could see the emotion there, behind the thoughts always moving, always considering a problem, defining a solution.

You tightened your hold, pressed a kiss to say thank you where the bones of his collar connected to his throat, and heard his low hum in affirmation. One hand left your back, tunneled into your hair, fingers rubbing firmly up and down the sides of your skull. 

“There, little better?” He asked, tilting back in his chair, long legs crossing before resting on the desk. He let you loop your arms around his neck, the hard surface of his plastron buzzing with the music’s vibrations more than your skin was. The thick sound of his churr keeping time like a particularly deep drum under the wave of sound.

You pressed yourself tighter to him in answer. “Thanks, Donnie.” 

“Anytime,” He kissed your temple, pet back your hair. “Anytime you need it.” 

Focus

Raph found you stalking back and forth along the canal in the Lair. He heard the angry slap of your feet, the harsh breathes coming out too fast, too strong, and felt a tightness in his chest long before he caught a glimpse of your face.

You didn’t notice him at first, a feat in itself, eyes on your tightly laced sneakers as you wore a ditch into the concrete, blinking constantly to be able to make out the surface.

“Hey.” He tried, not reaching out, not stopping your path of movement. It took two more calls, his voice slipping deeper, until a particularly rumbled ‘baby’ caught your attention, and you stopped so fast your knees protested.

Raph tracked over you, wanting to reach out, wanting to hold you, knowing it was the last thing you would want at this moment.

You were teetering at the edge of an abyss. Work, Life, Pressure. It was a mantra inside your head, everything that was wrong, everything that was out of your control. You couldn’t meet his eyes, only stared at the blearily outline of green and red, feeling yourself start to hiccup the longer you stayed still, knowing you were well on the way to making yourself sick. 

Raph rumbled again, a thump thump thump you could barely hear, a sort of mantra of his own. I see you, I understand, I know. When you jerked your head away, far too gone for comfort, he tried a different approach, finally moving to block your path.

“Follow me.” He jerked his head over his shoulder, but you were already moving past him, knowing where he wanted you, what he was after. You moved so fast, your steps jerky, angry, that he ended up following you into his weight room, found you practically vibrating as you fought to stay in one piece.

“The bag.” He ordered, another jerk of his head, tone brooking no argument. He wasn’t even sure if you could string together two thoughts to make a syllable at this moment without puking, but he knew you needed something physical, before you made yourself sick.

So he stooped to brace the bag, turned it towards you, winced internally at the thought of not being able to wrap your hands. He made a quick gut decision, grabbing an old pair of gloves and tossing them towards you. They were old, and smelled to high heaven, but they hadn’t fit his hands since he’d hit puberty, and they’d save your knuckles. 

When you gripped them, angry, he let the crack in his voice deepen. “You’re gonna wear them, whether you want to or not. I’m not gonna let you bust your hands.”

You rolled your eyes, tears still tracking down your face, but the particular scowl scrunching his features kept you from arguing, and…. Your hands were already aching, where you’d griped the thin bones in your hands too tight.

So you donned the gloves, took a stance, and swung before Raph could get a word in edgewise. The bag vibrated, but the shock transferred back up your arm, drawing out a pained hiss in the process.

Raph chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I bet that didn’t feel too hot, did it, sweetheart? You gonna listen this time, or are you dead set on hurting yourself somehow?”

You still felt the ache in your muscles, focusing on the punishment. You gave another jab, expecting more, expecting to connect with the sand filled bag, but Raph moved faster than you could process, his large hand taking the hit, curling around your glove to keep it in place.

“Don’t be an idiot.” He growled. “Slow down, think it through. You’re not doing anyone any favors punishing yourself.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, wanted to resume, but he held on tight, brought your glove forward until to pressed against the surface of his plastron, pushed until there was no more room to move forward. 

“You do that again,” he threatened out in a rumble, “and I’ll see that you regret it.” 

You shivered, but he moved away, ducked around the bag again, held it steady. 

“Now.” He intoned, and you knew what he wanted, what he was ordering.

So you fixed your stance, danced side to side, imagined your opponent. Imagined a hook coming your way, slipped past with only a faint jitter of hesitation before delivering a hard liver shot, ducking to the other side before jabbing on the rebound, your weight dancing effortlessly side to side the longer you went.

Raph kept quiet, now that you were thinking, problem solving, working out the frustration properly. He kept his eyes trained on your own, watching you come back, watching the tears slow, stop, and a hard determination take its place.

When you finally moved away from the bag, from him, he followed like a shadow, crowding into your space, stopping a hands breath away.

“You feeling better?” He mimicked your nod, continuing, “good. You need to talk about it?”

When you shook your head, lifted your hand to wipe at your face, he stopped you, grip firm and careful as he kept the filthy glove from touching your skin. You stared down at the gloves, nose wrinkling, not missing the chuckle that escaped him.

“Yeah. Sorry bout that.” He peeled it off your hand, before switching to the other, holding both your wrists in his much larger grip, thumbs pushing into sore muscles. “But I can make it up to you, if you’d like?”

You tsked, finding your lip curling up as he let that hopeful thump thump thump once more, moving into your space until he could cage you in between his arms. 

“Sure, Red. Make it up to me.”

Redirect

Mikey found you curled up on your fire escape, staring moodily at the dirty brick. He landed rather loud, wanting to warn you, wanting to see that wide smile break across your face like it always did when you saw him.

Instead, you stayed focused on the wall, and he deflated a little, before frowning, wondering if you knew it was him, or if you were so out of it you honestly didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

“Babycakes! You ok?” He let his voice carry, his suspicions confirmed when you blinked at the sound of his voice, twisted around in confusion. 

“Oh! Hey Mikey.” But you didn’t smile at seeing him, only pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapped your arms around them, laid your head across the top.

He moved to your side, folded in on himself, shuffled forward until he could press his leg, his arm against your own. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

You hummed, nodded, not moving when he reached out, ran a hand through your hair. “M’ just tired.” You rubbed your head against your knees. “Can’t sleep.”

He tilted his head, considering you, the open window behind the two of you. “You wanna go lay down? I bet I could help you sleep.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You shook your head again, and he removed his hand, leaning backwards and bracing himself on his palms, nudged you with his leg. “C’mon, baby, talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

“Oh, Mikey,” you smiled at his insistence. “I’m just a little caught up at the moment.” At his confused look, you tapped the side of your head. “Thoughts too loud to sleep, Angelo. Wouldn’t be fair for you to deal with that.”

He frowned, moved forward again, tapping a quick rhythm on his knees, watching as you focused on the movement. An idea sparked, and he quickly shuffled forward, mimicking your pose once more, eyes quickly moving around until he found what he was looking for.

“Look,” He pointed, reached out to tilt your head the correct direction when you hummed in confusion. You saw a tall man walking down the street, dressed to impress, fashion impeccable. You turned a confused look towards Michelangelo, wondering what in the world he was about pointing out a handsome man to you.

“Where do you think he’s going?” He asked, nudged your shoulder until you gave a sigh, answering just to get him to stop:

“I don’t know-” at his puppy dog eyes, you tried again, “maybe, maybe off to a fancy dinner? A promotion?” You lifted a hand to your head, rubbed at the ache.

“Hm.” Mikey hummed, considering. “I bet he’s leaving a date with his wife, on his way to lead a double life,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, aware you didn’t realize you were leaning into him to hear his words, “as a strongman in the  illegal underground circus.”

You stared at him for a beat, taking in his pleased grin, before the first bubble of laughter caught you by surprised, escaped before you could reel it in. “What?” You asked, hand coming up to muffle the sound. 

Mikey tugged your hand down, claiming it in his grip as he pointed out another character. “Look at her! See how she walks so fast?” He glanced over at you, saw your eyes tracking the figure. “Bet she’s late for a super villain meeting, and she’s completely forgotten it’s her turn to bring the snacks.”

“Super villain meeting?” You echoed, unfurling a little, letting him pull you closer. “Shouldn’t you tell Leo about that?”

“Eh,” Mikey shrugged, fingers dancing up and down your sides when you leaned into him. “I was going to, but they keep bribing me with pizza.”

“That would work.” You nodded along when he agreed with your assessment, then pointed. “What about him?”

Mikey followed your gaze. “Oh. Him?” He paused a moment, glancing between you and the person. “Hey, how come the people you pick are handsome?”

You sputtered, “What? He’s the first one I picked!”

“Nu uh,” Mikey shook his head, grateful you couldn’t see his face. “You picked the first one, and he was handsome, too.”

“Mikey, you picked the first one.” Your voice pitched up at the end, clearly hiding laughter, and you could feel him shake behind you.

“No I didn’t, I clearly remember you did.” He insisted, hands slipping around your waist when you turned in his grip, legs boxing in your elbows when you jabbed a retaliatory finger into his plastron.

Jab. “You.” Another jab. “Are an absolute.” Jab jab. “Menace, Mi-” 

He kissed you, a quick press of lips before he bubbled your cheek. “Oh yea? Got you smiling, babe.”

You slumped against him, and he braced a palm behind him to keep from toppling back, concerned for half a beat before he felt the shivers of your laugh against his chest. He let out a soft churr, and you nuzzled into the sound.

“God, what would I do without you, Mikey?” You asked, looped your arms around him as far as they would go.

“You aren’t ever gonna find out, baby.” He replied, gathering you closer, letting you slot yourself against him, content to stay outside in the cold for as long as you wanted.

Birds

A small project dedicated to @sophiacloud28 and her story “A Shot in The Dark.” And inspired by this comment I was able to snag from her

I had so many thoughts and feelings working on this project, but the symbolism behind just birds and freedom in particular wouldn’t leave me alone. And you know what they say about a picture is worth a thousand words? Well here’s my attempt of a thousand words. So I present Miss Estrella as the Twite Bird

Flower meanings in Floriography

Iris: Valor, Wisdom, Faith

Ivy: Fidelity and Attachment

Picture progress because without fail, I always like the “before’” the actual final 😆

me reading all of these like

Might I also offer some of these?

Leo: "Girl you belong on my TBR list (to be read) because you're one story I can't wait to check out." Donnie: cue Donnie just awkwardly hovering extra close to you all day for some reason and when you call him out on it, he just grins sheepishly and pushes up his glasses and says

"My apologies, the Law of Attraction states that any two objects, no matter how small or large, exert a gravitational force on each other. And since the gravitational pull of your eyes is stronger than that of a black hole, I find myself unexplainably drawn towards you."

Mikey: teasingly trying to pull you in for a kiss "Babe. I have Diabetes, and my glucose is low. Quick! I need some emergency sugar!"

Raph: "Can I try a new pick up line on you?” Proceeds to literally pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Random Turtle Thoughts...

Pickup lines the Bay Guys would use.

(These are just for fun!)

Leo:

"What's your favorite hobby? Besides making me smile, that is."

"So, do you have a preferred nickname? Or should I just call you mine?"

"Your hand looks heavy. Can I hold it for you?"

"See my fathead of a brother over there? He wants to know if you think I'm hot."

"Hi. I'm Mr. Right. Someone said you were looking for me."

"I've heard nothing lasts forever. What do you say? Wanna be my nothing?"

"Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today? Then let me have the honor of being the first."

"Aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?"

Donnie:

"Did you know that a black hole has the second strongest gravitational pull in the known universe? The first is your eyes."

"There isn't a word in the dictionary for how captivating you are."

"I didn't believe it was physically possible for anyone to steal the stars, but here I am, looking right at them in your eyes."

"All the good pickup lines are taken, but I'm hoping you're not."

"I'm not flirting. I'm just genuinely enamored with you."

"Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Does the sunshine ever get jealous of how radiant you are?"

"So, when I call to tell you good morning, what number am I using?"

Mikey:

"Now I'm no photographer, but I can definitely picture us together."

"Hey. Do me a solid and let me know if you see any cops around. Cuz I'm about to steal your heart."

"I was wondering if you're an artist cuz you're so good at drawing me in."

"Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?"

"I ought to complain to Spotify for not naming you this week's hottest single."

"Can I get your picture? I wanna prove to my brothers that angels really do exist."

"What time do you have to get back to heaven?"

"Mind taking my arm as I walk you home? That way I can say I've been touched by an angel."

Raph:

"Damn, sweetheart. Somethin' must be wrong with my eyes. I can't take 'em off you."

"Here I am, gorgeous. What are yer other two wishes?"

"You remind me of a snowflake, darlin'. Beautiful - unique - and one touch makes you melt." (alt: "And one touch makes you wet.")

"Yer so beautiful I forgot my fuckin' pickup line."

"That outfit looks great on ya. Come to think of it, so would I."

"Let's flip a coin. Heads, I'm yours. Tails, your mine."

"I think the only way you could possibly get more beautiful is if I really got to know ya."

"Damn, girl. God was showing off when he made you."

><><><><><><

Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to reblog with any pickup lines you think the guys would use!

@luckycharms1701 @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @definitely-canon @writinandcrying

@donniesgirlie @gornackeaterofworlds @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

@the-cauldron-witch @redsrooftopprincess @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @ninnosaurus @tmnt-tychou

@thepinkpanther83 @akari180 @milykins @citruswriter @jenuinely-speaking

@androidships007 @chicchanmooshy @peachesdabunny @msjadamatthews @ahhhhhhhhhfuck

@theanonymousninja247 @tmntngl

Jayus’ Jammie Jams

Hewooo folks! Had this song pop up on my shuffle today and I couldn’t help but just imagine this would fit for ROTTMNT Mikey 🤔🧡

Like mans got a LOT love to give just generally and is practically diagnosed with ADHD in every iteration. But could you imagine how intense being the sole focus, dare I say hyperfixation, of one such turtle? He lives to love and to love YOU would give him life. Wrapped up and interwoven in every thought and every action through and through.

“You got me in chains, you got me in chains for your love But, I wouldn't change, no I wouldn't change this love.”

oooooo this looks like a lot of fun! I do find myself incredibly chuffed with doing character boards like this and would love to give it a whirl!

Let’s seeeeee for assumptions for @canipleasegetthenumber15….hmmm I wanna say someone who has such a good heart that they get tired. A LOT. Because they care so much and they work so hard that they kinda feel dead to the world? But like, they’re gonna keep going because their peeps need them and no matter how tired they are, they’re gonna keep going.

Definitely somebody who gives good hugs and is in desperate need of one. A good long one, probably paired with a long nap and a fuzzy heavy blanket 🤔🧡

I relate to so many characters tho that it’s not even funny, but these are probably my leading ones.

Analyze as you will (and only if you want to, not pressure or anything) @saspas-corner, @anobodyinabog, @sophiacloud28 and @thelaundrybitch

I choose you!

Making a tag game cause I can

Rules: post 4 fictional characters you relate to and assume something about the person you reblogged from based on their characters

No pressure tag! @sidneyoftheblackwoods @mqstermindswift @stars-and-birds @zenilvar @forever-chained-to-myself @themidnightarcher @skeelly @thepencilsnameissteve @thislove-taylorsversion @thislifeissweeterthanfiction @swiftieannah @a-pessimistic-swiftie @catastrxblues @jellycanon @what-about-wendy and anyone else who wants to join<3

🚨PAY ATTENTION 2 DIS🚨

GUYS GUYS GUYS!!! EVERYBODY SHUT UP (affectionately) AND LOOK AT THIS!

LOOK. AT. IT

I GOT A COMMISSION FROM THE PHENOMENALLY TALENTED @nikaserb !!

Yall really ought to go check out her page and give her the love and attention she deserves because she drew one of MY besties with one of her favorite characters! And look LOOK at how absolutely darling she made them both look!

Like AH! You really captured their personalities through the dynamics of their poses and expressions. Not to mention I’m also in love with the lighting! It’s so warm and wholesome that I can’t help but just grin like a fool looking at it.

AND BECAUSE ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE IT SO, ALL Y’ALL GOTTA LOOK AT IT TOO!

Thank you thank you again for blessing me and my eyes with your incredible talents @nikaserb you truly have a gift of making art just feel real because there’s just a way you capture life and vibrancy that’s honestly breathtaking.

AI only WISHES it could be this good because lemme tell ya, this is the REAL deal!

I can’t wait to surprise my friend with this. May she suffer with all the love and affection this day. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA 😈😆🙌🏼🧡

*holds this in my arms oh so very gently*

CW: Depression, beginning of panic

B-Team hurt/comfort (the pages I've finished so far, anyway) </3

Mikey is struggling with depression, and the refusal of physical comfort isn't helping. He tries to keep his depressive episode a secret, but it suddenly dawns on Donnie when he goes to check on the littlest bro (which results in Donnie feeling both incredibly worried and guilty).

Ofc this is fiction, but I do wanna point out that IRL the best response to mental health issues is to remain calm and patient, and to not panic (panic/stress is understandable, but often counterproductive).

Relentless

Relentless (adj): continuing in a determined manner without any interruption.

I hope that I word this well enough to adequately get my feelings across but I had a little thought today about Jesus love for all of us. 

And one specific scripture comes to mind. Roman 8:38-39 which reads

“38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

While reading this, the definition of the word relentless also comes to mind. This meaning, Jesus’ love for us is the real deal. It’s not going away whether we feel like we deserve it or not. 

I know what that’s like. Thinking that there’s this…version I have to be before I become worthy of His or anybody’s love. I know what it’s like to feel like I have earn, work or prove that I’m perfect to some degree or fashion to just be worth the time and effort of acknowledgment.

It’s such a sad little lie that I’ve unfortunately been believing for most of my life. But the cool thing with getting older, is a little bit of maturity and perspective. And some of that perspective has led me to see my relationship with Jesus and His love for me just a smidge differently. 

Now, in my head, I just imagine Jesus donning the outfit of a linebacker or something football related. He’s plopping his helmet on top of his head as he gets down in his hike ready position before he starts booking it down the field, full on tackling the obstacles and sins of life that prevent His love from getting through. Literally doing EvErYtHiNg in His power to try and reach me. 

And the best part? It’s not just me. He’s trying to reach US. Because WE are His end goal. Now. Always. AND forever.

That love is perfect and eternal and it NEVER changes in intensity or direction.

Jesus is constantly, relentlessly pursing us with His arms WIDE open to receive us home.

So come home friend. In anyway that means to you. Let yourself be loved and know that you ARE enough. You ARE loved. 🫂💙✨

Art credit goes to THE incredibly talented @samlo.es on Instagram. Totally worth checking out if you ever get the chance!