#bros is a disaster
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
koolaidashley · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The worst part is he’s being 100% genuine
4K notes · View notes
darlinglledawn · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
me when old mc rps phases kicks back in
1K notes · View notes
circusinarun · 9 months ago
Text
Colored disaster twins :]
Tumblr media
Staaars <3 i like stars... Stars pretty
Lol, only after some time i realized that Dee and Leo have some kind of the tv girl palette :O
1K notes · View notes
hitwiththetmnt · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Baby’s first hair problems ('▽')
654 notes · View notes
star-ts-farts · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I'm sorry I blamed you, It wasn't your fault,
I wanted to make a series of drawings about Mike and his past. Present day Mike has come to terms with his past and has learned to forgive his past self. He finally sees who was in the cadet corp. Not a monster but just someone who was deceived into doing awful things under the guise of it being for the greater good
317 notes · View notes
goodforwho · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
I felt SO robbed after reading the script omg like WE COULD'VE HAD THIS DIALOGUE AND BIG BROTHER MIKEY *sobs*
Anyways, good thing I'm an artist because I can at least bring one scene to life!
483 notes · View notes
dirtyassvoiceactors · 21 days ago
Text
Dorian gets offended/jealous Orym is talking about working out with Beau, so he tries to show off, Imogen calls him out on poor execution, so he just walks off to help Caduceus (who also quickly kinda roasts him) kkkkkkk
i need next episode to after Dorian and Orym wakeup together, Orym goes workout with Beau and have competitions, so the whole time is just Orym and Beau showing off to Dorian and Yasha, like doing push ups with them in their back or sm, doing upsidedown pullups
161 notes · View notes
skatingbi · 1 year ago
Text
So hear me out on my headcanon guys:
Sanji with heterochromia (i cant spell that fuckin word man..) where one eye is blue and another is brown. He always hides the blue eye.
The first one to notice is Zoro, who is immediantly like "holy shit youre eyes are pretty" and sanji is like "what the FUCK"
Actually fuck it im gonna write about this nobody can stop me.
Sometimes, on lonley nights in the gallery, when Sanji is busy prepping, he looks in the reflection of his knife. Underneath the frizzy mess of a fringe that is part of his hair reveals the blue eye he struggles looking at. He stares, scrutinizing that light blue in the gleam of his knife gripped tightly in his hand. He looks away to force his attention back on prep work. His hands are always slightly unsteady after those moments. He always ends up with a cut on his hand one way or another on those nights.
When Sanji was a kid, his brothers would use his heterochromia as a weapon against him. He was the freak with two colored eyes. They would say his blue eye was creepy, too. Not only was he weak but also too different to be called their brother.
When you're a kid, you take these insults to heart. Eventually, when you're barely into adulthood, they'll still plague you. They become a part of you, just like how Zeff's teachings became a part of Sanji.
Judge looked at his eyes with disgust masked by indifference. It was another reason for Sanji to assume why he was the failure. The outcast. The runt of the litter.
His mother had blue eyes. She always claimed Sanji got his blue eye from her because her father had heterochromia, too. That was the only time little Sanji felt normal. When she died, Sanji started to grow out his hair to hide the only thing he had left of her: her eyes.
Now, Sanji still hides her eyes from view. Realistically, Sanji is fully aware that none of the crew would give a rats ass what he looked like. Regardless, old habits die hard. He feels safe under the mask he made for himself. As he goes about preparing lunch, perhaps grilled sea king again with how luffy is always eager to fight those things, he lets his mind wander to his eyes more. While hands expertly move through his knife like an extension of his body, he thinks about the mess of blond hair that's always in the way. He'd never admit it out loud, but his hair actually bothers him. Since it started growing out, it gets everywhere; his mouth, in his eyes, and tangled in the buttons of his shirt. Is sanji happy with his longer hair? Absolutely. It's a nusiance to leave it down constantly, though.
As he's thinking this, he's blowing the fringe of hair covering his face out of the way every so often so it stops tickling his nose. He continues to evenly slice through a portion of sea king meat until somebody, Nami he realizes immediantly, speaks up.
"Do you need a hair tie, sanji?" Nami asks sweetly. Her smile is radiant, as always, while she looks up from the map shes been studying. Sanji didnt even realize Nami came in and made the kitchen table into a study until now, but he doesnt dwell on it. Nami is welcome in his kitchen, after all.
"Oh no, thank you, Nami-swan! I think I just need a haircut soon," Sanji lies as he's moving through the kitchen. He gives Nami a quick smile before turning back to the meat on the cutting board and avoids Nami's gaze under the disguise of being busy. His lie wasn't as believable as he wanted it to be, especially when he's stumbling over his words while he is usually eloquent with them towards Nami and Robin.
"But until then, you should take one! I probably have hundreds lying around my room anyways," She says. It's a peace offering designed to be in Sanji's language of communication. It secretly says he's getting that hairtie whether he wants it or not, and Sanji is weak enough to accept the offering. He takes the hair tie with a grateful smile, wrapping it around his wrist and going back to his current task. Nami and Sanji work in comfortable silence after that, but the hair tie weighs on his wrist like a weighted bracelet.
A few days pass by. Through every single one, he stares at the hair tie in the morning. He really should tie his hair back. It reaches his shoulders for gods sake, and it keeps getting in his mouth - but that small part of him that clings onto grief like its all that he knows refuses to. He doesn't think he can bring himself to share the only part of himself that he truly loves deep down. What if the crew really thinks it's weird? What if his brothers are right?
These what if's roam in the back of his mind. They lurk just beneath the surface like an unknown predator hidden in murky water. He ignores it along with the anxiety that crawls up his throat every time he looks at his wrist.
Then, a week passes by. Now he's in his kitchen making a simple breakfast for his nakama. Franky, in particular, will enjoy this since his tastes lie within American style food most of the time. He focuses on seasoning the eggs, some of them cooked differently to cater to everyone's tastes. While he goes through the familiar and therapeutic motions of cooking, the door opens to reveal an annoying head of mossy hair and the steady noise of three swords bumping each other at the hip.
" Oi, go to sleep in your own bunk. I dont need you stinkin' up my kitchen while im trying to work." He utters without looking up from the stove.
"Why can't I just sleep here shit cook?" Zoro grunts. Sanji hears him shuffle around on the gallery's couch behind him. He's probably lying down, or maybe he'll sleep sitting up again, or maybe he'll watch Sanji cook. That's the most irritating one, which usually ends up with them fighting out on the deck one way or another.
"Because youre fuckin' annoying, get out."
"The hell I am, I'm taking a nap here."
"Oh my - You know what?" Sanji whips around to glare at Zoro, making sure the knife he was using is now in his hand to point at the source of his ire, "Fine, but if I hear a single snore out of you I'm kicking you into the ocean!" He threatens and turns around to finish up with breakfast. By now, all he has left is pancakes. The batter was prepped earlier, so now it's just focusing on pouring evenly. It's task that's menial but still important to him regardless.
His hair is covering his face too much. He tries to shake his head to flip it to the side. It falls back to where it was before he can pick the bowl of batter back up. He brushes it over his shoulder, and it simply flows back over it. He blows his hair out of the way, a classic move, but not even that works and he's slamming the bowl down on the counter before he can even stop himself and walks away from his work to grab the hairtie from around his wrist. In a few fluid motions, he ties his hair back haphazardly into a poor attempt at a low bun, but it's out of his face, and now he can focus.
He's too deep in concentration to even remember that he has heterochromia in the first place. Cooking lowers his guard unlike anything else in the world. The gallery acts like a safe space and cooking is his comfort. He still forgets, too, while calling for Zoro to get his lazy ass up to help since he's decided to loiter in his kitchen.
"Hey moss, if you're gonna laze around my kitchen, set the table for me." His request demand is met with a middle finger, which Sanji gladly returns as he walks over to the couch to kick Zoro on the stomach. The half asleep annoyance is now suddenly alert and glares at Sanji for a moment before it's quickly replaced with a look Sanji has yet to add to his mental notes he likes to call "Marimo Dictionary". Zoro's eyebrows are slightly raised, and his eyes glitter with something Sanji rarely sees. He's never been able to place a name on that look. Now he's confused. "What? Dont give me that youre tired crap youre not fuckin 10." He says.
Zoro is still looking at him, though, and now Sanji looks back with confusion because what the fuck is he-
Oh. His eyes.
Shit.
Sanji rips the hairtie out of his hair at light speed, probably pulling a few strands out by accident in the process but he could honestly care less when theres something more important. Like whatever the fuck just happened.
Before he can turn away and go set the table himself to distance himself from the marimo, Zoro's hand moves suddenly to grab his wrist, stopping him from running away.
"Wait, wait, hold on," Zoro pleads. And what the fuck. Zoro has never said anything like that and its fucking with Sanji's head because what the fuck. "You...uh." He continues in his signature graceless way. "Your eyes..." He pauses after that, sitting up and looking at Sanji, but not just looking, he's looking.
"Marimo," Sanji's own voice is riddled with anxiety with how shaky it is now. "Let me go dumbass," He demands but it could have been mistaken for him begging with how much he's struggling to keep himself together.
He's anticipating the worst. He knows what he's expecting. Sanji has experienced it countless times before, and he's aware he will again right now while a pancake is probably burning on the pan for all he knows.
It doesnt.
Zoro is looking at him still, maintaining eye contact but also darting between both eyes. He's looking at him like those golden eyes are looking into his soul and its too much.
It's too much because Zoro's response is uncharacteristically soft in so many ways. Zoro speaks to him like he's speaking with reverence, "Your eyes are beautiful."
Sanji shatters on the gallery floor there. His soul is bare for Zoro to see suddenly and that terrifies Sanji. Nobody has ever told him he's beautiful. Especially his eyes. He yanks his wrist from Zoro's grasp and speed walks to the stove to turn it off and remove the burnt pancake from the pan. He doesnt respond. He cant, not when his heart flutters when it should have been anchored down by rejection.
Then, Sanji walks up to Zoro, grabs onto both his shoulders, pushes him out the gallery door with surprisingly little resistance, and slams it shut. He leans against the door, sliding down until he's sitting on the floor with his head tucked between his knees. His face is burning and his face is probably red like a tomato right now. He stares at the ground with wide eyes and a weirdly giddy feeling in his chest and stomach nearly akin to happiness but also dangerously close to feeling freaked the hell out.
"What the fuck."
768 notes · View notes
explodingstarlight · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
weaponizing your newfound "youngest" child status
everyone go read @snailsnaps fic "Alpha Stage"-- de-aged Donnie is giving me LIFE
👉 something of a sequel to this
3K notes · View notes
triona-tribblescore · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Lil thing inspired by something my autistic sis does. Floor time is very much needed, especially when you need a break from a bitch-ass task~
1K notes · View notes
koolaidashley · 6 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
DO NOT SEPERATE ‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥
6K notes · View notes
himbionn · 5 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
We can all thank tumblr and my partner for getting my ass back on these two Jesus christ.
(Alt version w/ no glasses Matt and other stuff below the cut 💪)
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Silly doodles and art which are old as fuck but I needed to put somewhere cause they're silly and I think people would enjoy them lololol
166 notes · View notes
tangledinink · 2 years ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ninja turtles are here for projecting and processing grief, apparently.
i've seen lots of 'the death of future donnie' comics, most recently ofc being from @somerandomdudelmao (i went back and forth abt tagging but then decided i would, because this is directly their fault, /pos) and then, of course, all the fan content that was made in response to said comic... and i love seeing so many people make so much awesome work! but it's also really fucking sad.
so often in the real world, there are no goodbyes, no dying in the arms of a loved one, no heroic sacrifices, there's just... death. people just die and it sucks. especially because in real life there's also no cool storyboarder assuring you that there's gonna be a happy ending and you'll see them again. and so it's like... then what?
i dunno. i was just sad about it for a while, and i wasn't really sure what to do with that, but i guess this is my answer. sometimes you don't get to say goodbye or hold them when they leave you, and you dunno if you'll get to see them again. but you can still have the mark they left on the world and hang onto that. because no matter what, once upon a time, they were there, and you remember. other people probably do, too.
1K notes · View notes
tokibuns · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Disear crumb (yes, singular crumb) I found in the art book
78 notes · View notes
pageofheartdj · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Bros hanging out with the other♥
403 notes · View notes
thedawningofthehour · 7 months ago
Note
You were talking about Leo being a straight dudebro in the body of a gay man (fashion wise) and tbh thats the jumping off point for me to say that whenever I picture him in human clothes he is Always wearing the classic "green triforce shirt + khaki cutoffs pants" combo every middle school boy rocked circa late 2000s early 2010s. You just know he wears those shirts that say "eat, sleep, game, repeat" and the same basketball shorts for 5 years straight. Like, I can see Mikey, Donnie, and Raph having campy and fun fashion sense and having cool elaborate outfits but like. Its not Leo if he doesn't rock a fit that screams the fanciest place he'll eat out at is Olive Garden tbh
Leo is one of those fuckbois that spends hundreds of dollars on a pair of ugly tennis shoes and then freaks out if any dirt gets on them and walks like an idiot to avoid scuffing them.
He'd wear his pants with his ass hanging out and pop his collar. He'd wear those deep v-neck shirts and birkenstocks, probably with socks.
He'd wear puka shell necklaces and shark tooths despite living in NYC and having never been surfing. If he had hair he'd absolutely have had a frosted tips phase.
Not to mention this boy reeks of axe body spray. He's one of those guys that hasn't figured out he stinks more as a teenager and substitutes spray-downs for basic hygiene. He has a twenty-product nighttime skincare routine and then he rolls out of bed and sniffs a random shirt on the floor to determine if it's suitable for another go. At least once a week he'll show up to the breakfast table and Splinter will gag and force him to take a shower.
Meanwhile Donnie is legit prancing around in heavily coordinated outfits that he seemingly threw together effortlessly and he looks like a fashion model. April sends him pictures of her prom dress choices and takes his critique as gospel. He's always invited to Girl's Night and it took Cass several get-togethers for her to even realize the irony. He and his girlfriends do their makeup together and probably get into fights over how they apply eyeliner. Somehow he is the straighter twin.
192 notes · View notes