#disaster crafts

[datamodel-of-disaster]

I was tired of looking at an ugly plastic bin on my kitchen counter holding all my pills, and got inspired by all those fake antique drug/poison jars on Etsy, so… behold, my “new” apothecary jars!

The jars themselves are actually quite old and did originally come from a pharmacy in my hometown. (I bought them secondhand as part of a lot of old pharmacy supplies, which also included unused labels and pill boxes that had the name and address of the pharmacy on them -hence how I know.)

They were in abysmal state, so I don’t feel like I ruined antique pieces or anything.

Anyway, my counter is now more Aesthetic(TM), I’m calling that a success!

[dying-marshmallo]

☆ Frying pan bonk nosie!!! [Full undercut!]

[ffiascooo]

“Dr. Delicate Touch feels nothing.”

Some quick screenshots’ redraw for today

[pippenplayz]

So Rise TMNT Duo names I've heard:

🟪Don & Leo🟦

Disaster twins

Midnight Duo

🟦Leo & Raph🟥

Magnetic Duo

Leader Duo

Switch Duo

Blue Raspberry

A-Team

🟧Mikey & Donnie🟪

PB&J Duo

Smarts and Crafts

B-Team

Sun & Science

🟦Leo & Mikey🟧

Baja Blast

Portal duo

Sun and eclipse

Sunrise Duo

Tidepods

Unicorn Bros

🟥Raph & Mikey🟧

Sunset Duo

🟪Don & Raph🟥

Brains and Brawn

Jampackets Duo

🟨April & Don🟪

Bannana Pancakes

DNA Duo

🟦Leo & April🟨

The gay agenda

Ikea Duo

🟧Mikey & April🟨

Orange Lemonade

Citrus Duo

🟥Raph & April🟨

Eldest Siblings

Pink Lemonade

🟥Raph & Cassandra🏒

Shred Red

Cherry Duo

🟦Leo Future Boy🔑

Father and Son

Sensei and Student

Edit: This is constantly updated with every Duo name that gets commented that I don't have in here.

[triona-tribblescore]

Are the other brothers aware of baby Mikey or has Donnie just been chilling with him for hours without his brothers knowledge?

Well....They sure do now ^^

[rufwooff]

Magma doodles from yesterday p1

P2

[frosteaart]

it's time for more Doe! and this time we're making it double!

[Note: this version of leo uses she/her pronouns, goes by Doe and was created by @sad-leon ]

[teainthesnow]

@somerandomdudelmao is giving me emotions again so time to give some back...

- - -

It’s over.

it’s finally over.

Or, he thinks, with a shuddering breath and numb agony, that it will be over soon.

So he lies there, breathing in the dust and ash, and the sour taste of all that was lost, of the embers of a dying world, filling his mouth.

It would...

It would all be okay now.

He inhales.

And tries not to be scared by what comes next.

But, vaguely, distantly, as he slips further and further into numb acceptance he feels a presence, a familiar warmth blanketing him. Warm hands touch his shoulder feeling fiercely protective but tinged with fear.

It’s okay, he whispers but he’s certain the words come about as nothing more than a senseless whisper, if they even make it out at all.

But...

It’ll be okay.

It’s time.

He’s ready for the next step.

To face his ancestors, friends, family, and brothers.

And hopefully that meant all three of them.

He exhales.

And falls into the darkness.

But the darkness parts around him.

His thoughts swirl into a blurry haze, slipping from him before he can truly comprehend them or the things around him.

All he knows is this is wrong... he shouldn’t... he thought...

Wasn’t it supposed to be over now?

Not... not this incoherent haze of a life where the only comfort his can find is in the soft fluttering traces of red and purple.

So he hides; feeling scared and alone and wondering why this is his fate, why he has been cursed to stay isolated and away from those he cares about.

He is so tired, so exhausted.

Barely clinging on to the last of his strength even though he isn’t truly sure why he does so.

There’s something whispering, begging, cheering for him to keep going.

To hold on.

Something – or perhaps someone – calling his name, voice laced with a pleading desperation.

But

all he can do

is

slip

further

down.

And then something shifts through the fog.

The world tilts on its axis.

The is a fire surrounding him, burning away the encroaching darkness that he had been so willing to accept.

No, he pleads, reaching a desperate hand outwards.

Let me go.

Please.

Let me go home.

The fire, the warmth, the two flames do not listen as they cling tightly onto him, dragging him forcefully along with them.

Please.

And then the fire vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him weak and fading once more.

But then the static clings to him, trapping him, keeping him from fading, from moving on.

There is a comforting presence within the electricity, similar to the warm flames, but slightly different.

Familiar yet somehow unfamiliar at the same time.

There is something within the sensation that makes him pause and hesitate.

All he can feel is a weird mix of worry, relief, and unwavering determination.

He almost stops fighting.

But he can’t.

This isn’t-

He isn’t home.

He needs to go home.

So he fights against the static, against the energy it gives him.

Against those soft thoughts of you’re safe, please stop fighting, let me- let us help you.

But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?

Did he really deserve peace when they weren’t here?

He just wanted to see them again.

(Even though the whispers tried to convince him that they were already there because it didn’t make sense.)

So whenever he can he fights.

He runs.

But the static, the flames, keep finding him.

Keep holding him protectively within their embrace.

(keeping him safe)

Keeping him trapped.

(keeping him alive)

Keeping him away from home.

(giving him strength to keep himself alive)

In this fog-filled limbo that his existence has become.

And then.

Finally.

Something changes.

And.

He.

Falls.

Again.

He blinks open his eyes.

Confused and disorientated and still not quite fully himself.

He feels...

Empty.

Perhaps.

Nothing but a fragile reflection of who he was, of who he will be.

Hollow.

Lonely.

And lost in the vast empty darkness.

Empty, he realises slowly through sludge filled thought, but not silent.

There’s a voice shouting in the distance.

Muffled and incoherent but definitely there.

He looks around.

Suddenly desperate.

Overcome with the desire to find the voice.

To find-

He looks down at his reflection.

But it isn’t *his* reflection.

Maybe *he’s* the reflection.

Forced to echo, to copy.

He’s yelling at himself.

...isn’t he?

But then a hand reaches through the mirror and grabs hold of his scarf.

Pulling him upwards and through the once solid surface and the voice, the familiar and unfamiliar voice, becomes clear.

Becomes understandable.

And awareness washes over him.

The ‘anger’ leaves.

All he has left is a numb confusion and a growing hope.

And then he is falling again.

He blinks.

Awareness comes back to him slowly.

His vision slowly fading back into clarity.

And his first coherent thought is to be annoyed by a constant tap, tap, tap, of a keyboard being used.

He tiredly shifts to locate the source of the noise and sees Donnie tapping away, focused solely on his task.

Then that thought processes.

To See... Donnie... tapping away?

...Donnie?

And the tiredness immediately drops away as he reaches out desperately, hopefully.

And then he falls out of the bed with a thump.

But there are hands on him, gently picking him up, embracing him, words nothing but a murmured blur as reality drips into comprehension.

It can’t...

This can’t...

He is so overwhelmed, so utterly lost, he can only sit there as Donnie fusses around him, voice tinged with anger.

No... he realises, as a smile begins to creep upon his face and tears well up in the corner of his eyes, not anger.

Worry.

But he can’t let himself relax yet.

This is too good to be true.

Is this really truly real?

“D-Donnie?” He asks voice wavering and tinged with a fear he cannot hold back.

And when Donnie (and he hopes, really desperately hopes that it is) keeps fussing he reaches forward and takes hold of a flailing hand.

It’s... it’s warm.

The tears are there again, now dripping unbidden down his face.

“You’re real.”

The wrist within his grasp is solid and warm, and strong.

“You’re real!”

Not thin and weak and rattled with tremors.

But...

“Are you?”

He tentatively asks, scared for the truth but hoping against everything for the best.

That Donnie – his brother, his beloved twin is here.

And then Donnie soothes his fears, tells him the truth, the amazing, almost unbelievable truth.

He cannot stop the tears.

Does not want to stop the tears.

This is...

This is everything he had hoped for.

And the tears that drip, drip, drip down his face are no longer tears of pain and fear and utter sadness but those of hope and joy and the understanding that this is it.

There is a warmth surrounding him.

A hug, he slowly realises.

A hug he thought he’d never receive again.

The trickle of tears becomes a torrent. He cannot hold back, nor does he want to. The relief hits him like a sledgehammer as he clings desperately to the brother he never thought he would see again.

Crying loudly and unashamedly.

This is...

He chokes back the sobs once they calm slightly.

And cracks probably the best (worse) joke he’s made in a while.

And laughter is his reward.

There is a warmth swelling within him, a calmness, and a happiness he had thought unachievable as he and his amazingly alive brother share their joy with each other once again.

And then Donnie passes out.

Gently, carefully, he sets him down, noting the rise and fall of his plastron but he still presses a cautious hand to his brothers neck.

And sighs with relief at the comforting and steady

thump

thump

thump

of a healthy heartbeat.

He exhales in relief.

It’s okay.

A weight lifts off his shoulders as he raises a hand to his own neck feeling the very proof the he too is alive and healthy.

And that is when it really truly begins to sink in.

Despite his confusion. Despite having not even the smallest idea of how he got here, of how he’s alive.

Of how Donnie is alive when even his spirit...

He takes in a soothing breath, shakes the thoughts out of his head, and focuses on the good that he can find.

Because.

It’s over

It’s finally over.

But, he pauses, as he takes in his surroundings and processes what just happened.

To breathe in the clean air.

To enjoy the steady beating of their heartbeats.

To think he’s alive, they’re both alive.

So...

Maybe...

Hopefully...

...it’s only just begun.

[torturedblue]

I just love how the Rise bros have their own individual nicknames for each other. They have the ones that they all use for each other of course but the way only Leo calls Mikey Miguel or only Donnie calls Raph Raphala is truly so precious. Nicknames are one of my favorite shows of affection and the fact they have ones specific to different pairs makes their brotherly bond in this show that much tighter 🥺

The way only Mikey calls Leo Leon or calls Donnie Donald is also funny to me because he’s usually giving them attitude when he does it 😂

I think Mikey is the only one who Raph calls Big Man which is just so adorable and disrespectful in its irony lmao

I don’t think Leo would ever do it again if he weren’t delirious from sickness but him calling Raph Raph-a-doodle while continuously talking about hugs is probably the purest thing he’s ever done 😭

And of course my favorite, Donnie calling Leo Nardo. Idek if I even need to explain this one it’s just a cool nickname and I love the Donnie to Leo affection 🤗

What are y’all’s fav special nicknames 🤔

[datamodel-of-disaster]

Posting this because I badly need some encouragement to finish my techpriest cosplay... I haven't done any building/crafting since I moved house last year T_T

[dying-marshmallo]

☆ Nostalgia [drawturtles' dtiys on twitter]

➼ @tmntdude

[pageofheartdj]

Bros hanging out with the other♥

[jupiterstyx]

Donnie: I'm not doing too well.

Mikey: What's wrong?

Donnie: I have this headache that comes and goes.

*Leo enters the room*

Donnie: There it is again.

[terrestrialnoob]

This is just so I remember:

Magnetic Duo = Raph and Leo

Brains and Brawn = Raph and Donnie

Sunset Duo = Raph and Mikey

Disaster Twins = Leo and Donnie

Baja Blast Duo/Portal Pals= Leo and Mikey

Smarts and Crafts/PB&J Duo = Mikey and Donnie

[six-of-cringe]

So the "Jesper is Wylan's sugar baby" jokes don't bother me TOO badly, but they irk me slightly because they're pretty much based on the fact that no one knows what an allowance is beyond the context of "spending money a parent gives to their child". An allowance in business is an amount of money given to someone for a specific business-related expense, so the "allowance" mentioned at the end of CK is just the amount of money they budgeted to put into the stock market, which Jesper is in charge of. Because you know, he's smart and also Wylan's business partner, not his incompetent pet. Ok maybe the jokes bother me some

[thathastagbiotch]

Run away

•Donatello x fugitive/on the run from the law! reader

•Romantic :D

•What if……vigilante meets cute thief?

—————————————————-

Oh no. See, you were currently being hunted by the police for stealing stuff from target. Why target? That’s literally the worst store to rob from, it’s been proven. Why couldn’t you think?

Moving on, you decided that the best tactic was to stay underground. Just for a while. Dress yourself up undercover until it blows over.

The police were hot on your trail. What target item requires this much security? Like genuinely, why are the police chasing you? That’s so stupid.

You hid in an alley. You quickly changed from your black suit(hey, what’s the point of stealing if you’re not looking slutty doing ur?) into a fluffy pink dress with a wave of your hand, and tied your hair into a ponytail.

Oh yeah, did I mention you’re a mutant? Well, kind of. You got caught in a radioactive nuclear blast that resulted in you getting random pink splotches on your body(work with me here, I’m just spitballing) and some cool powers. You were like, Eleven, but more badass.

The police were searching the block, looking for you. Seriously, what did you steal? You just stole a cool looking figurine from the back of the target supply room that was held in a glass box. No biggie. Nonetheless, you needed to hide, and fast. You quickly used your powers to move a manhole cover, and climbed down into the sewers.

Wow. You have been reduced to this. A rat. A pink, thief, rich, rat. Not a desirable outcome, I must admit. Nonetheless, you could back this. It’s got lots of space, a bunch of exits, and it’s stealthy.

Eh, who are you kidding? You’re in the fucking sewers. It’s the pits. It’s where all the dumped human feces go. And you’ve gotta chill here for the next, what, month?

You wandered around. Some many twists and turns, so many different ways to go and get lost. You began to map out everything in your little pocket sketchbook. Atleast you wouldn’t get lost.

Anywa- wait. Is that…..sounds? Like a Lou Jitsu movie? Le gasp! Lou Jitsu is like, the greatest action hero of all time! Whatever was going on, you had to check it out.

When you reached the sound, you found out that someone had made a home in the sewers. With a bed. And a tv. And FOOD! God, you were hungry. It wouldn’t hurt to sneak in, grab some food, and leave, right? You’ve been reduced to common thief anyway, might as well.

So you teleported in. You looked through the kitchen till you spotted something. Something glorious. A box of pizza. You quickly reached in to grab a slice when ‘knocks down entire pile of pots and pans cutely’.

So much for inconspicuous..

Whatever. You quickly grabbed the pizza and began to eat silently. Not your idea of a perfect Sunday, but it’s cool. Suddenly, you heard someone come around the corner.

“Raph, I’m telling you, there’s no one in the kitche-“

What the hell is that? Is-is that a fucking mutant turtle? Sorry, turtles?

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT-“

————��—————————————

Hehe. You like? Took three days.

Part 1(ur here), Part two