#but maybe it is idk 😈

[st4t1c-d1n40z]

I felt like redrawing that part in the movie where Christophe fucking dies

yeah

[anonymouscheeses]

They are everything to me.

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 ��𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴��: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

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

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

[c-kiddo]

was worried parts of cr2 would not hold up on rewatch (especially seeing people hate the aeor arc so much) but ngl so far its either been good and fun as hell (travellercon, pirate arc) or just straight up banger after banger. like the xhorhas to angel of irons through to refjorged arc and then the cathedral.................. unrelenting slay

[ivyllamauwu]

It's redraw time!

New‼️:

(Click for better quality 😭)

Old👎:

I do feel like the old one is serving more cuńt but meh, I still prefer the new one. AND I CHANGED THE BACKGROUND COLOR BECAUSE I FUCKING HATE MUSTARD YELLOW, WHY THE FUCK DID I USE MUSTARD YELLOW?! 👺👿

[tennesseeroulette]

We NEED a time travel esque kirby game

[piko-rose]

Apparently Nintendo did an Oopsie with the new Off the Hook song, which by the way, is a great song, but what's more important is-

LOOK AT ME

IN THE EYES,

AND CONVINCE ME

THAT THEY'RE NOT A COUPLE.

SPOILER ALERT:

YOU CAN'T.

[molesamole]

Totally didn't post a Rozin one shot on AO3 Randomly at 7:30 AM in the morning cause of Agin's Children whaaattt anyways take this kinds old art of some sillies I don't think I ever posted

[ghostinspacee]

I love his little dance 🥰😍

[humblepoet26]

Do you want to play psycho killer later? 😈🔪

[ravetillyoucry]

PUPARIA

Chapter 14 - The Place Where He Inserted The Knife

WARNING ⚠️ this chapter contains in depth discussion of disordered eating , please feel free to skip out if you think it necessary to.

prev - chapter 1

"I mean..." Jeanne winced a little as he spoke, his eyes fixated on the tea in front of him he stirred, "It's... It could be a possibility."

The shifter groaned in both despair and defeat, the absolute need for his theory to be validated being his top priority.

"Come on," He pouted,  "I don't see any other explanation for all of this." Hosah leant in closer across the table for two, his eyebrows angled down as his eyes stared wide in anticipation for a response which he actually wanted to hear.

Jeanne shrugged, "I don't know, give it more time. They've only been outwardly pestering you for what, two, three weeks now?"

"So what, you just want me to sit and wait for it to escalate?" There was a certain kind of distress in Hosah's voice, one partly mixed with disbelief.

"That's what the police force told you, no?" Suddenly, Jeanne's blunt and nonchalant attitude had become extremely aggravating.

This wasn't the place to argue, though. The tea house was somewhere Hosah and his superior frequented, despite the shifters blatant preference towards coffee. Even though he never actually bought anything, the little hole in the wall parlour was a very enjoyable place to be, with the light coloured decor and pretty rococo aesthetics, it was certainly not the kind of place you'd want to be having verbal battles in.

Instead, Hosah slumped back into his intricately carved wooden chair in absolute defeat. The reactions he'd received from the proposal that the whole 'stalker situation' was just a red herring had made him doubt himself far more than he already did. If he didn't feel like a crazy person before, he definitely did now.

Sit and wait until your life is at risk. That was the advice the police force had given Hosah and his team when they brought all of the evidence of extensive stalking to their door. They were working alongside the agency on these strings of missing people and murders, surely they would know far too well how dangerous this individual was.

The shifter had seen it happen hundreds of times before. People just like himself would go to those who were supposed to protect them, only to be turned away because the threat isn't serious enough, and almost every time he'd seen it happen, those in his situation would be dead by the end of it. Hosah thought it'd be different for him. Having working in law, he thought maybe, just maybe, he'd be taken more seriously, but he wasn't. 'Sure, they've been inside of your home, but they've never made a threat against your life' was essentially what the shifter was told.

"I think you should request some time off," Jeanne's eyes finally met Hosah's as he spoke, "Go home, see your family, spend some time away from.." He waved his hands by the side of his head, although it didn't really help convey the message he was trying to send, "..all of this."

"That would be admitting defeat."

Jeanne took a moment before laughing in confusion, "If that's how you look at it." He shrugged.

The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the quiet and peaceful atmosphere of the tearoom being a complete contrast to the previous weeks of the detective's lives. Despite this, Jeanne still looked like there was something on his mind. Something itching away at him, something that he clearly wanted to say, but was holding himself back for whatever reason.

"So.." The senior detective began, "You've moved into Edward's apartment now, right?"

Although the question seemed normal and mundane enough, the look on the almost ghostly pale detective's face said otherwise, as if he was bracing for impact from whatever Hosah would respond with.

"Yep." The contrastingly warm toned and tanned detective sitting opposite to Jeanne answered bluntly.

Hosah and Jeanne couldn't have looked less alike from each other. Complete polar opposites, the shifter's senior being particularly boy-ish, with rounded features and a short stature, his hair so black that in direct sunlight, it almost looked as if it were purple, distinctly standing out against his cool toned, icy white, almost porcelain skin. Hosah however, was a completely different story.

He had always been the darkest in his family, a trait his father told him must've been passed down from his late uncle, and everyone always pegged him as just a few years older than he really was with his facial bone structure being so sharp it made him look sort of sunken in. The people surrounding them in the tea house were probably perplexed to see such a sight, two individuals, nothing alike from each other on the surface, but with so many similarities and differences that perfectly balanced them out, a formula for the most ideal friendship.

"Are you happy?" Jeanne spoke, his expression having shifted to a much more relaxed, but still serious look.

The question caught the shifter completely off guard, expecting a 'Oh, what's it like?', or a 'Hows it going for you?'. Whether he was happy or not was not something he'd really thought much about, leaving him stumped for a moment as he considered all the different factors.

Teddy was sweet. He was funny. He had a lot of interesting stories to tell, and the more he let Hosah into his life before they'd met, the more he wanted to know. He was thoughtful and could always tell when something was up, although given the shifter's perpetual inability to hide his emotions, just about anyone could tell when he was riled up by something.

Sure, the apartment was in a constant state of borderline hoarder levels of clutter, it wasn't in the nicest of areas right along the outskirts of the city, the neighbours banged on all night either throwing parties into the early hours of the morning or seemingly rearranging their entire interior layout every single day without fail, but Teddy made up for it in his presence.

Just being in the general vicinity of the read headed man was enough for Hosah, as he carried a sort of glow that couldn't be seen by the human eye, creating a subconscious sense of ease and protection to the people he surrounded himself with. Hosah thought himself to be lucky to end up in such a situation. Forced proximity with a guy that fit his type to a T, it was all too perfect, like a romance novel or an idealistic dream.

".. Yeah." Hosah finally responded, although his answer was clear the second he began to really consider the question as a smile unknowingly spread wide across his face.

-~-

The shifter had gotten so carried away during his break, he'd almost completely forgotten the date and his allotted appointment time. September nineteenth at two in the afternoon. Fuck.

With barely a minute to spare, Hosah headed straight to the clinic, practically running from the tea house to the station as to not turn up late and make a bad first impression.

As he stood, sweating palms from growing nerves clinging to the strap hanger, Hosah came to the realisation that this was his first time in weeks being away from Teddy for so long.

Just as he'd been told barely a week into their friendship, Teddy had a fear of being alone in the city, an irrational fear of getting himself lost, a situation that would not be helped or avoided by company but still provided comfort either way, and this phobia had began to rub off on the shifter.

Standing in solitude, Hosah could no longer think about whatever mundane tasks the people around him were getting up to after their shared journey, only the fact that any of them could be out to get him in some way. As much as he'd liked to tell himself that his situation wasn't all that scary, he had to admit he'd been becoming uncharacteristically paranoid lately.

It started with hearing his name in crowds, or thinking something in his head and hearing his exact thought, verbatim, repeated by someone in his surroundings, then it grew to convincing himself people were staring from all angles, that they were tailing him on his walk home, that they were setting up trackers on his things as he'd get up to use the bathroom of a cafe.

Hosah knew there was room for chance and coincidence, that he wasn't thinking straight and was seeing the worst in people, but who could blame him for thinking in such a way after reading almost a hundred hand written letters detailing his daily routine?

In that moment, all the shifter wanted to do was get off at the next stop and run until his legs gave out, but instead he just froze up, standing as still as he possibly could, just as he did all of those years ago. That was probably his biggest flaw. There was no fight or flight instinct within him, only freeze. And freeze was exactly what he did, time and time again. As much as he hated himself for it, it was all he knew.

From that moment onward, the shifters brain was entirely in autopilot. His mind so crowded by all of the different possibilities and outcomes from every step he took blocking out the sound of the real world, making him dangerously unaware of his surroundings.

By a miracle, Hosah had managed to find his way to the clinic without being harmed. The waiting room was a pristine white from floor to ceiling, unlike his usual doctors office. The only thing that stood out against the minimalist decor was a sort of memorial display at the very front where a TV or a children's bead maze would usually be.

The lady in the portrait shone, clearly a part of some kind of orchestra as she held an instrument Hosah couldn't quite identify. Without even noticing, he'd gotten up to read the plaque, getting a closer look at the picture that hung proudly in the centre of the reception.

Kathleen 'Kat' Fatola-Aronov , beloved wife and mother, taken from us too soon. June 1st 1965 -  December 24th 2005.

The lady in the portrait and Hosah shared the same birthday, he noted.

The display saddened the shifter as the console table beneath the portrait had its entire surface covered with fresh flowers and cards. He didn't dare to read them, already feeling as though he were peering into someone else's life, being almost as invasive as the stalker that followed him so closely.

Grief was not something Hosah was well acquainted with, but standing here and seeing the memory of this woman he didn't even know existed until walking into the clinic, he still felt a sense of sadness, but also one of relief and gratefulness. Kat's smile in the portrait was a very bright one, a look of pure love and joy captured to beautifully. She was a very pretty lady, her hair styled in the classically timeless 1930's finger waves and her makeup done in a similar aesthetic. Hosah had always had an appreciation for this era of fashion, so seeing it done so perfectly and in such a beautiful way aided in his sympathy for the truly unknown woman.

"That's my late wife." A loud, baritone voice appeared seemingly out of nowhere, a man no younger than fourty five stood almost directly behind the shifter.

Hosah wasn't really sure what to say, too taken aback by the sudden voice, only able to mutter a quiet 'I'm sorry'.

The man behind him was tall, but not quite as tall as Teddy. His figure was remarkably rectangular, his shoulders as broad as his feet were big, although his legs were long and slim in contrast. The badge on his coat read 'Doctor Aronov'. This was the man Hosah had come to see.

Rather than dragging on the topic, Doctor Aronov held out a wide, coarse hand, "You must be Detective Seung-Levi. I'm so pleased to be able to speak with you."

The way he phrased it, it sounded much more like a casual chat over coffee than a therapy session.

"It's just Levi, Seung is a middle name." Hosah corrected the doctor. Weird. Nobody had ever made that mistake before. In fact, nobody, including himself, really took notice of his middle name. Aside from his mother who picked it, of course.

"Ah, apologies, Detective Levi," The doctor began to walk away, encouraging Hosah to do the same, as he clarified, "Follow me this way,"

The clinic was weird, if anything. There was a front desk at the reception, but nobody sat at it. The overhead lights didn't buzz or have the yellow eyesore hue that was such a common factor amongst these kinds of settings. The furniture was all pristine, not a single sign of wear and tear on any aspect of the waiting area at all. It was almost as if it were a blank canvas, the only kinds of colour sticking out being Kat's memorial and all the flowers left out for her.

Doctor Aronov's office was no different, a glass table without a single smudge sat in the middle, with two large, leather beige arm chairs at either side. Hosah took a seat as the doctor's expectant eyes silently offered him one.

The shifter knew what to expect as he sat. An hour or so of his brain being put under a microscope as someone pushed and probed for more detail on all of his least favourite memories just so they could piece together an answer for why Hosah was the way he was. He'd always particularly hated these kinds of things. Physically being poked and prodded at was one thing, but his mind was an entirely different story. Living inside of his head was his only escape, and by any means necessary would it be a place where he and only he could go.

"Just to make sure we're on the same page," The doctor traced his finger along the bookshelf behind him before seemingly finding the correct file, "Why do you think you're here?"

The question was stupid. He knew why Hosah had come, it wasn't from his own fruition, he knew Hosah's personal doctor had called and arranged for the two to have an appointment together, which is probably why it took the shifter so long to come up with a response.

"I.. can't gain any weight, only loose it. And my doctor thinks it's more a mental problem than a physical one." That was the least of it.

In the time between his last check up and his appointment today, Hosah had spent a lot of time thinking it over. Doctor White was completely right in thinking such a thing, the shifter's attitude and behaviours were concerning at best, and completely self destructive at worst. It was true, there was probably something mentally wrong with Hosah that made him act this way around food and general eating patterns.

"Do you agree? Do you think it's a mental problem?" The Doctor's continued prolonged eye contact had become increasingly uncomfortable by this point.

Hosah wasn't sure if he was supposed to say his answer out loud.

"I mean..." The shifter debated whether he should tell the truth or not for a few more seconds, "At first I was really defensive, I'm an almost thirty year old man, not really the type of person you'd expect to have an.." He really didn't want to finish the sentence. Saying it out loud would make it all real.

"An eating disorder?" Doctor Aronov completed the sentence for him, with a sort of sickly sweet smile on his face as he said it, as if he found pleasure in handing out these kinds of diagnoses.

Hosah shrugged, "I guess so."

"You see," The doctor started in a sigh,

"We have this idea of eating disorders, that it's about wanting to look a certain way, or that it's an inherently female problem, but it's rarely about intentional weight loss at all, most people find themselves in these kinds of states because it gives them a sense of control. They can't control the events happening to them in their daily lives, but what they eat, that's what they have full control over. Most don't even realise they're doing it. It's not always the case, but it's, more often than not, how it manifests."

Hosah was looked at expectantly, but he had nothing to say. What Doctor Aronov had just described felt like an invasive look at the inside of the shifters brain, putting the parts he didn't even understand himself perfectly into words.

As if his privacy didn't feel violated enough with all that had been going on, this just had to be the icing on the cake.

He was right, through and through, every word described Hosah's experience almost exactly. No control. No realisation that he'd even been doing it. Over the past week or so, he hadn't really been counting the days as they'd all been blending together, since his last appointment, Hosah had taken to psychoanalysing his interactions with food. When Teddy made him dinner and he just couldn't eat it no matter how badly he wanted to. When he'd find himself swirling the same loaded fork around and moving everything across his plate to make it look touched, only to have not had a single mouthful. It was all too much.

By this point, the shifter had gone eerily silent, not even a breath could be heard as he'd been holding it in, his shoulders tense as he gripped each arm of the chair as if he were going to fall right off of it. Hosah's clammy hands were sure to imprint on the leather as he had his soundless breakdown.

"I know self-disclosure isn't always preferred to share so sparingly by people in my field, but, you can't always tell just by looking at someone what they could be going through." Hosah tried his best to listen, but honestly, his ears rang with a sharp buzz, making it hard to hear anything at all.

Still, although the shifter remained with his eyes fixed on the doctor's pointed dress shoes rather on at least his face, he continued,

"Kat, the lady with the memorial you were looking at, she's my wife. Was my wife, at least. She seemed to be healthy and happy on the outside, but even though her weight was normal, it still got the best of her. She tried to get help on her own but these kinds of recovery facilities, going impatient and what-not, that was reserved for what they consider emergencies,"

Doctor Aronov's slim square glasses began to fog up, his voice much more glum and serious,

"She suffered a heart failure, since she hadn't been eating right, or, really eating at all. She didn't look like she had an eating disorder, on the outside she seemed so... Nobody knew. I didn't even notice until I had no time left to help her. That's why I went back to school and chose to specialise in this particular range of disorders. People are suffering even when they're not physically showing it. And I wanted to help them. Will you let me help you, Hosah?"

Hosah could barely think through what he'd just been told before he found himself nodding.

"Do.. Do you think one particular event, just- just one, can change the outcome of someone's life, dictating how they think and all the choices they make, forever?" The words poured out of the shifters mouth like a broken faucet, unable to stop himself even as his eyes stayed locked on the floor under him.

Doctor Aronov laughed, although it wasn't as comforting as he'd probably hoped it'd be, "That's usually what happens, yes. You think one event in particular is influencing you now, to get to this point?" he asked, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees.

The doctor was middle aged, maybe a little older, clean shaven with a noticeable, some sort of slavic, accent. His hair had begun to go grey, although his head seemed to still be full of it, as it was gelled back similar to how it'd be commonly styled in the 1930's, almost in matching fashion with how his late wife used to present herself. A particularly vintage looking couple, despite it being the 2000's now.

Speaking to another man about this kind of thing was definitely uncomfortable. Hosah wasn't sure whether he even wanted to continue on, as he didn't want to feel emasculated any more than just the event itself had made him feel ever since the day it happened. He'd already started now, and if he didn't elaborate in the moment, he'd just have to do it later.

".. Something happened to me when I was, what, maybe sixteen, but probably more like fifteen, I... It's always playing back in my head. When I close my eyes. When I hear a certain sound, smell something in particular, when the lights are that specific yellow shade, seeing a similar interior layout, I feel like I'm always back in that room." Hosah began, his hands now in tight, almost shaking fists as his eyes became blurry as they glossed over with a tear.

-~-

When the shifter stepped outside of the clinic, the particularly windy autumn day being as chilly as ever as he'd forgotten his big coat at the apartment, his eyes were instantly met with the familiar yellow vehicle, a man he could recognise in even the most crowded of rooms stood outside of it, waving him over to come get in alongside him.

Doing as he was told, Hosah half ran to the car, fighting the urge to just dive straight into Teddy's arms, shrinking down in an instant to just the size of about his thumb and a half, but instead, he settled for an extended pat on the shoulder from the significantly taller figure.

"How'd it go?" Teddy asked, opening the door for his roommate like the gentleman he was.

Hosah wished the vehicle was already moving at this point so he could show his disdain for the question through a simple yet effective tuck and roll,

"As good as anything like that can get, I guess," He didn't really want to talk about it.

Although Hosah's gaze had long shifted to the mundane view out of the window, Teddy's eyes stayed fixed at the smaller figure, unable to look away as he feared the shifter would disappear upon doing so. It was hard to not reach out and run his hands through the freshly cut and bleached hair as he did once before.

The clouds were a particularly dull grey, preparing for a melancholic down pour, quite fitting for the shifter's current situation. He couldn't stick to one thought, as his mind bounced from question to question, overthinking every little aspect of, what he assumed to be, his unremarkably normal behaviour.

Particularly, he thought of all the things he could've done differently. Maybe if he did one, tiny, meaningless thing differently, he wouldn't be this way. Things would be better. Or, on the other hand, there was the bleak idea that no matter what he did or what choices he made, he'd always have ended up this way, in this taxi, with Teddy.

It didn't take long before the two arrived back at Teddy's apartment. Or, their apartment now. The thought made him sick. It truly was theirs. All Hosah's stuff was here now, he was going to officially move out as soon as Jules got her shit together with the contract, and it was terrifying. Hosah had never been in a real relationship, not that this was anything more than two people making the best out of what they had in their current situation, and the commitment of actually, really sharing a space was truly nauseating.

Quite frankly, after the day Hosah had just had, he couldn't take it anymore. The sudden urge to retch sent him straight to the bathroom, no time to shut the door behind him, as, the lack of, his stomach contents came up and out into the toilet bowl.

Teddy followed closely behind, panic in his speedy steps and stuttering voice, "Woah- woah, what's wrong?"

"Just.." Hosah could barely get his words out as his insides kept bubbling back up his throat, "Just coming down with something."

If coming to terms with the everlasting effects of his trauma counted as a disease, Hosah was bedridden with it.

Instead of leaving him to it as a part of him wished Teddy did, the taller of the two stayed by his side, sitting on the cold tiled floor beside him, brushing the ash blond hair out of his face as he went back and fourth between retching and endlessly salivating. Gross. Teddy didn't deserve to see him like this, it was far too humiliating. At least his hoarse and hushed 'It's okay'-s were quite comforting.

"I... I need a bath." Was all Hosah could muster with the mix of saliva and stomach bile still lingering in the back of his throat.

Teddy didn't even pause for breath as he instantly turned toward the tub he was leaning against half a second earlier, preparing it for the shifter as soon as the words had left his mouth.

If he weren't in such a vulnerable state, both physically and emotionally, Hosah wouldn't have even dreamed of asking such a thing from his roommate, but alas, he was in that kind of situation where all he could do was reach his arms out and practically cry for someone's, anyone's, attention and affection.

"Can you help me wash my hair again?" The shifter asked, his words clear, without hesitation. It was this kind of direct request from his roommate that Teddy could not deny.

Hosah had come to learn to not be embarrassed when naked in front of others. He'd had countless support workers insist he needed help with washing himself all throughout his teenage years, and saying he was sexually inexperienced would've just been an outward lie. The shifter really wasn't insecure because he was out in the open, because he was physically in a very vulnerable situation that could easily turn sour if Teddy so wished it to, but more self conscious about the state his body was in, his ribs poking out around his chest all the way until his stomach con-caved, his hips sticking out as if they were out of place.

At his best, he looked like he'd never had a full meal in his life, and at his worst, he looked like he'd been addicted to meth since birth. Although both were fairly accurate, exaggerated but not entirely false, they weren't exactly desirable things to be compared to. Hosah wondered if his roommate were disgusted with him, if he felt just as nauseous as he did seeing the shifter throw his guts up when seeing him without a protective layer of clothing hiding his true form.

Deciding he'd add it to the long list of things to dwell on, Hosah got into the water without a second thought, enjoying the hot steam as it seeped into his pores, filling every gaping hole in his body with the warm, comforting feeling of the slow boiling of his own body. It was piping hot, just as he liked it. He wondered if Teddy had noticed that fact when bathing in the wooden bowl before.

The fact Teddy did all of this without question, without any hesitation, without judgement, was a comforting one. That's just the person he is, though. A caretaker. He'd see something he could nurse back to health and he'd jump at the opportunity to. A little dehumanising at times, but over all a good trait to have, especially when it applies to the shifter.

"Tell me a story," Hosah requested, his head leaning into the gentle massaging of the soap in his hair, Teddy's fingers moving in perfectly synchronised circular motions.

Teddy hadn't spoken much since they'd gotten back, which was a shame, since he had such an enjoyable voice and general way of speaking, "What kind of story?" he asked.

"About Italy. Tell me about Italy," The delicate kneading of Hosah's scalp was almost sending him straight to sleep.

"Well," Teddy started, "During the summer, when I wasn't at school, I'd stay on my grandparents farm. It was like three or four miles out from the nearest little town, so there would just be great long stretches of pastures to bike down, I'd take a book or two and me and my sister would go down to the river, once we'd finished all of our work, of course."

Hosah sighed dreamily, the steam fogging up every mirror and every window in the room, the only lighting being the little lamp that sat on top of the toilet and the overhead hallway light creeping in under the door frame,

"Sounds nice." The shifter added.

"It was nice," Teddy had paused moving his hand to recollect the memory, "I could probably find that river again with my eyes closed. We'd swim when the current was gentle, but usually we'd just sit and read by it in silence. A good sort of silence though. Just.. quietly enjoying each others company."

"Reminds me of my cabin. The one I told you about." Hosah turned his head to face his roommate as he began, "I'd be willing to compromise if Colorado isn't really your thing. Anywhere out of this city is good, as long as there's somewhere I can paint and fish."

"We'll see when it comes down to it," Teddy mumbled, his hand gently guiding the shifters head to tilt back as he rinsed the soap out of his hair, combing through the short length with his fingers as he did so.

They could both probably get used to this life. As long as everything going on outside of the apartment were to disappear, at least.

[kimis-gloves]

📸: esquire.australia

[im-kino853]

more trigun idol au doodle dump ig More. under cut

silly guy (forgive me for the amounts of babymetal references...)

[twillprobably]

On the tumblr strait up posting it… anx by it lets just say…. Omori art.

Traditional sketches below the cuttt

sorry if my handwriting is shoddy im like 2 days ol

[hobbithoes]

omggggg how Davrin keeps looking at rook in photo mode 🫡🫶

[vaperarmand]

im so glad to come here and see you and others behaving normally about the RPF poll. Maybe I just don't get some ppl's sense of humor (I don't) but fr why was anyone acting like it actually matters or isn't just for fun. I don't get it. What does industry plant yaoi even mean.

right like we’re all having fun right guys? haha. right guys? 🧍‍♂️