#Yes‼️‼️‼️

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ 𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝…? ~

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴𝚃𝙾𝙱𝙴𝚁 𝙳𝙰𝚈 𝟷𝟷: 𝙽𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙴˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝 (𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎 💗)

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟷,𝟽𝟿𝟻

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙸𝚝’𝚜 𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚝𝚢….𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚖𝚎 *𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚔 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚗𝚞𝚍𝚐𝚎*

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝙲𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚗𝚢𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚋𝚒𝚊.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙹𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙲𝙰𝙼𝙴 𝙱𝙰𝙲𝙺 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙰 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝚃𝚈 𝙸𝚃 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙾 𝙵𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙺𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙻𝙸𝚃 𝙾𝙼𝙶‼️‼️‼️˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Dreams were one thing. 

Mikey loved dreams. 

He adored dreams in fact. 

It was…his escape from reality; sort of like drawing in a sense. Except, when he dreamt…he didn’t have to do a single thing.

He could do anything he wanted…whenever he wanted without having to get the 'a-okay' from anyone.

And plus, the best part about dreams was that if there was an ice cream cat barfing up sprinkles…Mikey wouldn’t question it oneeeeee bit. 

That was the magical part about dreams. 

But…there were always two sides to a coin.

…Nightmares…were the opposite of dreams…

…And they were a whole other thing.

They could turn your most happiest memories and moments into horrid and scary ones.

It could turn the most greenest of valleys into nothing but dry ash, blowing away in the wind and fluttering and intoxicating the air. 

Or…perhaps…maybe nightmares were just…lonely. 

Perhaps…it was just lonely to be alone, watching you sit in your room as you break into cold sweat, the darkness weighing you down like a ton of bricks. 

And maybe the nightmares wanted you to be there with it…so it wouldn’t have to be alone…

'I could be lonely with you' as Beach Bunny would say…

But back to the initial topic, Michelangelo always hated having nightmares.

But what he hated more was not even remembering what said nightmares was about. 

It was terrifying for sure— I mean— he woke up from it so it must’ve been really…bad…right?

The box turtle sighed loudly, running a tired and shaky hand down his face.

…He should probably get some water while he’s awake; his mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

Or, better yet, Mikey could go find his brothers.

Well…one of them. Or at least see if anyone was awake.

The light scarlet eyed mutant hopped down from his bed, hugging himself with one of his blankets as he made his way towards the hallway, the darkness almost consuming him in the process. 

Even as a little kid, the box turtle was never fond of the dark. 

…You could never see beyond it. 

It was cold and…just, well, dark in general if that makes sense. 

Michelangelo never understood the appeal some people had to it.

The only time he did welcome darkness, though, was when there was light occumpining it. 

Like the moon. 

Or the stars. 

Or even car lights! 

It was Mikey’s small reminder that no matter where he was, there was always some glow or gleam with him…

So relitavley speaking, he should head to where the nearest light was…which was his immiediate older brother’s room. 

The smallest turtle opened Leo’s car door ever so slightly, peeking inside to see a very sound sleeping slider. 

The youngest buried down his disappointment as he quietly closed the door, going back into the darkness once more.

Leo barely got any sleep as is…

…And besides…the chance of accidentally waking him up was waaaay too high. 

It was fine, anyway. Mikey could try going to Raph’s! 

Michelangelo dragged his orange blanket with him, putting it around his shoulders as he tip-toed to Raphael’s room…surely he was awake, right? 

“Raph…?” The youngest called out quietly, looking into his older brother’s room. The smallest mutant wasn’t greeted with a small grunt of acknowlgemnt nor a kind Raph greeting.

What the light scarlet eyed teen was greeted with, though, was a loud, ear pierecing snore from the snapping turtle. 

Mikey snickered softly at his brother’s loud noises, going into the room and giving him his favorite Squishmello that was on the floor.

The alligator snapping turtle smiled in his sleep, squishing the plushie to his chest and his tail wagged slightly. The smaller turtle giggled at the action, walking out and closing the car door.

Alright…so the odd’s on Donnie being up…were…rather…slim but it was fine! 

Quite very much fine.

If the softshell was asleep, the light scarlet eyed mutant would just hed back to his room…alone; in complete darkness. 

…But it would be fine…!

Probably.

The box turtle quickly and quietly shimmied to his purple loving brother’s room buuut not before tripping over his own feet and stumbling in front of Donnie’s train car door.

And Mikey was supposed to be a ninja…pfft, yeah right. 

The youngest turtle got up on his feet, brushing off his knees and shoulders as he grabbed his blanket from the floor. 

Maybe if he just stood perfectly still until the crack of dawn…Donnie wouldn’t wake up…!

Besides, it’s not like the softshell heard him or anything.

“I can hear you trying to be quiet over there, Mikes.” The second oldest deadpanned, turning around of his bed so him and his little brother shared eye contact.

Well shit…

The youngest’s stomach twisted and turned with guilt, rubbing the back of his neck as he leaned on the doorway nervously, “Oh! H-Hey, Dee…sorry…did I wake you up…?” Michelangelo asked guiltily. 

“Eh, kinda. But it’s alright.” Donatello yawned, rubbing his eyes as he sat up on his bed, reaching for his desk as he put on his glasses. 

“…Are you going to come into my very humble abode or are you just going to continue to stand there?” The taller turtle asked, squinting into the darkness where the youngest was almost being consumed by.

Mikey shook his head ever so slightly, closing the door and hopping into Donnie’s bed with his blanket. The elder hugged the smaller turtle tight, rubbing his shell gently as Michelangelo melted into the embrace. 

The box turtle buried his face in his older brother’s chest as the other rested his chin at the top of the smallest turtle’s head, “Mhmmmm…your warm as fuck…”

Donnie bit back a loud laugh, instead, smiling faintly as he rolled his eyes fondly. 

Typical Mikey…

The second oldest wrapped his younger brother tighter in the hug, “Your literally using me as a blanket right now. I’m not your own personal heater, y'know.” 

“Ehhhh…you kinda are to be honest.” The other snickered. 

“Oh? You're just using me for my body heat, huh? And here I thought you loved me for me…” Donatello sniffled theatrically, wiping away a fake tear for dramatic effect.

“I do! But I also love you for your body heat.” The younger turtle giggled snarkily. 

Donnie scoffed, shaking his head slightly as he smiled; he couldn’t help but chuckle faintly.

"You're such a dunderhead, y'know that?” The older said as he scribbled at the youngest’s sides, grinning as Mikey almost immediatley squealed with laughter. 

“Here I am, pouring my heart out to you, being all sentimental and caring...and all you care about is my toasty body heat.” Donatello fake seethed, scribbling where the younger’s plastron met his shell. 

Michelangelo screeched loudly at his brothers squiggly and wriggly fingers, hugging his middles before turning around so his shell faced the young scientist. 

The light scarlet eyed turtle squealed, kicking his legs from under the bed sheets as his brother continued to tickle him, “N-NohoHAH! D-Deehee cahahome ohon dohon’t doohoo thihihis!” He squeaked, pulling on Donatello’s arms. 

“And where do you think you’re going, little brother?” The taller turtle asked, wrapping one arm around Mikey’s chest so his arms were at his sides. “You’re not going anywhere~!” Donnie grinned before scribbling his free hand all long the younger’s stomach. 

“OHO FAHAAAHACK! DEEHEE NOHO STAHAP!! THAHAT’S SOHO SOHO BAHAHAD!!!” Michelangelo screeched whilst laughing loudly and hysterically, kicking his legs so much that the blankets soared high in the air and fell on the floor. 

'And she was a fairy' ahh moment…

“I’m going to tickle you foreveeeeer! Eeheevihil lahahaugh!” The purple hoodie wearing mutant announced as he nibbled the crook of his baby brother’s neck.

Donnie laughed along with the other, his mind flashing back to times when they were very little…

…When they would lay together in the dark with fairy lights hung around the ceiling, infodumping about shows and movies as he would hold his younger brother close to him to keep him warm…

…It was just like when they were little kids.

Well, almost like when they were little kids. 

In their early childhood years there was definetly less hyena cackling…that was for sure.

“GAHAHAD DAHA— squeal NOOOHOHOHO!” The younger mutant squealed, shaking his head as a faint blush spread to his cheeks.

“Yeeeeeeees~!” Donatello playfully cooed, “And stop your loud Tom-foolery! You’re going to wake up the entire lair!”

“THEHEN STAH— squeal!! GOHOD— squeak SCREHEHEW YAHA— YOHOU! STOHOHAP TIHICKLING squeak MEEHEEHEE!” Mikey yelled through his laughs. 

“But you looooove it~!” The other smugly countered. 

“DEEEEEHEEHEE! PLAHAHEASE! YOHOUR GOHOHONNA KILL MEEHEE!!”

“Kill yohou?” The elder mutant asked in awe, pausing the tickling for a split second before mercilessly prodding where the other’s ribs would be.

The reaction was almost immediate as Michelangelo let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into hysterical fits of laughter. 

Mikey thrashed and squealed helplessly, throwing his head back on his older brother’s shoulder. “DOHOHAHA— squeak DOHOHAHANNIE!!”

“You are conversing with Donatello; yes?” 

“PLAHAHAHEASE!”

“Please what~? Pleeeeease keep tickling you~? Pleeeeease tickle tickle your oh-so ticklish ribs~?” 

“N-NAHAH! THAHAT IHIS NOHOT WHAHA— squeal IHI DIDN’T MEEEHEAN THAHAAAT!”

The softshell chuckled lowly, holding his baby brother’s wrists above his head as he lightly nibbled his ribs. 

The box turtle squeezed his eyes shut, throwing his head back once more as he could do nothing but happily laugh. 

“D'awww~! Are Mikey’s wittle wibs tickwish~?” Donnie teased, using his free hand to flutter along the orange cladded turtle’s neck.

“AAAAAHAHAHAH— SQUEAK!! NONONOHOHO! DEEHEE DEEHEE NOHO— SQUEAK SQUEAK— NAHAHA— SQUEAL— NOHO MOHOHORE!!!”

“No more~? Are you sure~?”

“YEHAHAHAH! YEHEHES YEHE— SQUEAL YEHEHES!!” 

Donnie gave his brother one last poke at the rib before stopping and hugging him from behind, resuming the gentle shell rubs. “I guess I really am nothing more than your own personal heater, hm? Just a walking furnace at your command…”

The box turtle mutant groaned loudly, flicking the taller turtle’s forehead slightly, “Deeeehee yohou knohow damn wehell thahahat’s nohot true.” Mikey pouted, snuggling in the embarce. 

"Yeah, yeah…I know, I know. You supposedly love me for more than just my body heat.”Donatello said as he let out a huff of laughter and rolled his eyes. 

The elder wrapped his arms tighter around his brother, resting his chin on the orange cladded teen’s head once more. 

The smaller turtle giggled at the action before yawning, snuggling into the other’s plastron, “Lohove yohou, dorkwad…”

“Pfft— dorkwad? Is that the best you can do? Really?” The softshell snickered. 

“Is ahass faced Atomic Lahass fuhucker good enohough fohor you?” The box turtle asked snarkily. 

“I’ll stick with dorkwad, thanks.” The older giggled. 

“That’s whahat I thohought.” Mikey grinned as he yawned, resting on his face on his brother’s chest, “Lohove you, Dee.”

“I love you too, Angelo.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[fated-normal-767]

they gave me my drawing tablet! my drawing tablet has been returned to me!

[artist-rat]

my sister finished her first bg3 run, here's evil gang reunion photo <333 (withers invented polaroid for the occasion idc)

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

It might be a little while before I actually get the comic out, so here's a small title card for it or something to hold you over‼️

My post where I mentioned this!!!

[officialmiintee]

put pasilyo on repeat, we’re yearning today

[formulanni]

“Ya Know It Could Be Like This, Just Like This, Always."

Taglist: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @emmasallowart

Sorry to everyone that follows that doesn’t fuck with ship art LOL

[ladydeath-vanserra]

@kateduchessofdolittle 🥹🥹🥹

actually Elain has glasses bec I said so. the prettiest Archeron Sister has light gold wire frame glasses that make her doe brown eyes even doe-ier and even browner

[scrombit]

danny phantom ?!?!!! and you might be like woah whos this eyeball guy??? its my non reference trying to remember what the observants looked like (fail) but they ugly ah hell so im keeping it

[kelpermoosee]

Olimar legit changed my brain chemistry, I’m gonna be so fr

[valen-dreth]

he wants you to die so so fuckig bad

[toadslug]

LAWYER PERIL 🤯🤯🤯 Based on this post.

The idea of Peril being into law stuff because of Osprey is very good to me.

[bubblegum-gf]

was thinking about the use of c or c! to denote a character version of someone and realized rtgame would be crtgame. like crt television. tv head

or the vtubeRT design but uhhh tv head he’s in the screen. You know. The body is regular rt but the head is the vtuber in the screen, he took over

[nova-rpv]

could you draw hyper knuckles with a ponytail? I love fanart of him with his hair tied back

ill do you one better: string worm hyper knuckles with a ponytail

hope you enjoy this silly echinda, echidna enjoyer

[erabu-san]

Could you not blackwash characters? Idk why you suddenly started doing this but its incredibly annoying.

Could you educate yourself ? Idk why you suddenly decided spit your ignorant opinion but I don't care if you are annoyed.

[knifearo]

i feel like i haven’t said it in a while so!! loveless aros you are so cool and you bring such great perspective to things and i always always always wish you all the happiness in the world however it may appear for you. this blog is always and forever a safe and positive space for loveless aros and i am always so happy to see you guys here :)

[aaronsinferno]

Tommy notices that Buck has been feeling down recently. It might be due to the chaos at work or maybe something else, but Tommy senses it immediately. Despite his efforts to get Buck to open up and reassure him that he's there whenever needed, Tommy also knows that sometimes people need their space to sort things out on their own.

Wanting to lift Buck's spirits and help him feel more comfortable without seeming intrusive, Tommy gets an idea. He remembers that a coworker of his has a brother or cousin who owns a restaurant somewhere across town. After nonstop pleading and negotiating, Tommy arranges to borrow the restaurant's kitchen for only a few hours after closing time.

One evening, Tommy sends Buck the restaurant's address with instructions to enter through the back entrance. When Buck arrives, he finds a cozy setup: a table set for two with wine glasses, a LED flameless candle in the center, and Tommy standing by the stove in an apron that reads "I have no idea what I'm doing." Tommy tosses Buck an apron that reads "Head Chef."

Buck, clearly puzzled but smiling, asks, "What's going on?"

Tommy begins, "I wanted to do something special for you. I know how much you love cooking, so I thought,” he makes his way over to his puzzled boyfriend. “why not let you cook in a professional kitchen for a change? You can show me your magic, and I'll try not to burn the place down around us."

Buck begins to ask how Tommy managed this, but Tommy cuts in, "I know a guy who knows a guy. We've got the kitchen to ourselves for a few hours. So, can you please put on that apron and save us from a very uncomfortable run it with the 118, cause I’d really like a chance to learn from and dine with the best of the best tonight."

Buck's smile broadens into a genuine grin as he ties on the apron. Approaching the table lined with ingredients for a pasta dish and vanilla doughnuts, he sighs, "First of all, 'Head Chef' doesn’t do me justice. 'Master Chef' is more like it."

“Oh, of course.” Tommy responds with a smile.

"Secondly," Buck starts, but before he can finish, he cups Tommy's face and pulls him into a tender kiss, their noses brushing together in the process. Tommy’s hands instinctively find Buck's waist, drawing him closer. After a few heartbeats, they break apart, their foreheads gently touching.

"Thank you for this," Buck whispers, his voice filled with gratitude. “It’s probably one of if not the most romantic things anyone has ever done for me.”

Tommy beams. "Anything for you, Chef,"