#scared my turtle too

[shotmrmiller]

phillip be a good girl and take it graves

everyone get out you don't gotta go home but you can't stay here i need my privacy stat

john “big stretch” price

simon “make it fit” riley

soap “just the tip” mactavish

kyle “give me one more” garrick

[theanonymousninja247]

Pretty Random Turtle Thunks

Noise

Rating: Cookies and Cream (16+ plz)

Summary: Flash Fiction of 835 words.

Bay!Raph struggles to deal with overwhelm of living in a world constantly at full volume.

His latest struggle with sound is you.

pspsps @avery73 @anobodyinabog @redsrooftopprincess

I have a little something for ju big red girlies

header belonging to @firefly-graphics

Raphael always thought that he had a solid grasp on understanding what it meant to live in a world full of noise.

His entire life, his entire world for as long as he could remember, had always been a collection of cacophonies. 

From the constant racket of living beneath THE city that never slept or the never ending tumult that came from the reckless and wild life he lived, Raph had forever been surrounded by sound. 

If it wasn’t the city, or vigilant violence, any chance of possible silence was shattered by Raph’s brothers.

Leo’s tirelessly tirades, Donnie’s incessant info-dumping and Mikey’s constant chatter. 

Call him a grinch or whatever but it was always noise, noise, noise.

And if not his own brother’s, then Raph’s Achilles heel, his very own traitorous heart would betray him. The beat of heated drums that thrummed in his veins. Thoughts of inadequacy, self loathing and all over anger. At the world. At himself.

Such resonance that haunted his every step, his every thought, the entirety of his existence.

Raph, the little Atlas that he was, thought he could bear the weight of it all. His shoulders were certainly wide enough. He was strong enough. 

Ohhhh he made very sure that he was strong enough to could carry it all. Even convinced himself that he’d miss the weight of the hubbub if it was gone.

So yeah, he thought he can handle the noise of it all. 

Until you. 

Oh, until you. 

He didn’t know what it was. Just the comfortability of a safe companionship that grew over time? A stubborn seedling of fond affection that he never could seem to unroot in the protected garden of his heart? Or maybe the inevitable weakness of a spring season hinting just around the corner? 

Whatever it was, lately whenever you were near, the world went silent and you…

Well, you just…you were loud. 

Not necessarily in exact volume, though you did tend to get a bit more passionate in those moments of innocent and genuine excitement.

Those small moments that Raph treasured deep in the recesses of his heart that he would pull out like a picture to glance at on a rainy day. 

No, you were loud in the way that everything about you just started to scream for his attention. 

It wasn’t unbearable per sé, but it was heavy with a sudden weight that for the first time, Raph didn’t know how to hold. How to handle.

Your smile was a flash bang that had him reeling every time you shot it in his direction. Completely blinded by the fact something as soft and delicate could ever be graced upon such a creature as himself. 

It made his face hurt in his attempts to strangle back the ferocity of desire to smile, really smile the way he wanted to, right back at you.  With you, his heart cried out.

Your sweet scent was a siren song in a key that beckoned to him that caused his soul to ache for the mere whisper of hope, the smallest chance to have the privilege to harmonize with you. 

Your presence, just a mere brush or touch of your hand caused the constant state of drumming that was his heart to increase tempo like intense war drums. To the point he could feel it in his pounding in his finger tips as he had to physically restrain himself from unconsciously reaching out to you. 

If he ever go the chance to touch you, to hold you the way he wanted to, Raph wondered if he’d finally find the peace and quiet that he so desperately craved. 

Would all the noise go away? Or with your body in his hands, your heartbeat dancing in tandem with his, would all the volume of the world, in his head, in his heart, finally make sense?

Would all the sound come together and get lost in the symphony of you?

So that’s why he finds himself he’s sitting alone in his brooding corner. His elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, his breath heavy and labored with the weight of trying to hold the weight of…well…everything back.

Your visage branded to the back of his eyelids and your voice echoing in his memory like an unfair vision of the night. 

It made Raph feel like slamming his hands over his head and fully retreating into his shell, hoping to finding one dark corner not haunted by you, where he could get the stupid staccato of his heart back into place.

Because he couldn’t look away; he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop listening. 

And the worst part of it all, was Raphael was scared of the fact that he didn’t know if he could, or even wanted to. 

Yeah, Raph thought he could handle the noise.

But he very may well just perish at the thought of being able to one day have the privilege of pulling a sound from you.

[turtleblogatlast]

You know I stated it before as a response to this ask, and I know a lot of people hate it, but Kendratello is unironically a fantastic ship imo.

Kendra is Donnie’s type to a T and then some. She’s “cute, but mean”. Her color scheme is purple. She’s into tech. She’s cool and is a “bad girl.”

Like it works way too well for there to not be something there. Whatever it is, it’s chaotic as all hell and at least pseudo toxic, but it works for them.

[bluenders]

he looks like he'd smell like a bowling alley carpet.

[familyofpaladins]

I finally got out my laptop again and pulled what I had written previously for my Youngest Leo Au, and so I can finally just copy and paste what I had written about the turtles dynamics/personalities once they were back with Splinter. (@sonderquill this is for you, I knew i had stuff about it written on my laptop and why I took forever to actually that part of your question)

For those who have no idea what I'm talking about, here's a link to the post describing my Youngest Leo au (which is also just my own iteration of the tmnt) and a lot of the back ground for the au.

TLDR (but really check out the other post for a lot more detail) is that, when the turtles were little (like 7 or 9ish years old), they got taken in by shredder, who they thought was a friend of splinter. Shredder wasn't always super nice to them and got even worse after shredder thought he had finished Splinter off. Mikey is the oldest, but doesn't focus well, so Shredder dismisses him as stupid. Raph is next oldest, but has anger issues and doesn't like listening to shredder. Donnie is super smart, but doesn't talk and therefore can't communicate well with others often. Leo is the youngest and easiest to scare into submission/actually get him to do what shredder says. After a couple/few years with shredder, they manage to escape with Splinter who is actually alive. Except Leo, who Shredder then takes to japan for about a year. Leo eventually gets back to his family.

And the rest of this post is how the brothers interact with each other after this (and a little speculation about what they would have been like if they HADN'T been taken by shredder). This... may have gotten a little long (between 1k and 2k words?) so im going to go ahead and put it under a cut

Once ALL turtles are back home. It’s an adjustment period. Leo spends some time trying to make sure that Splinter always stays happy and begins to panic is something happens that could possibly upset splinter. (because leo fears punishment, and that he or his brothers will be hurt like they would have been with shredder) Now splinter would never hurt them or get angry like shredder did, and logically leo knows that, but the stress Leo endured (especially when it was just him) has made him anxious and it takes a while for Leo to relax. But he gets there eventually.

They all still end up defaulting Leo to be leader, because he still knows their strengths and weaknesses best. Mikey still doesn’t like large text books and sitting still too long, but now that he’s out, he’s much more likely to sit back and relax and chill out. Pranks his brothers a lot. He is a big reason that Leo gets to calm down. He gets Leo to laugh and pulls pranks on everyone and demonstrates that no one is going to get seriously hurt as a consequence. (Mikey makes it a personal mission to get Leo to laugh at least once every day, or at the very least smile)

Once everyone is back together , Donnie really opens up and almost doesn’t ever shut up when he gets on a roll. His brothers love listening to him, even if 90% of it goes over their heads. Seriously, after years of not hearing Donnie speak, they will always happily listen to him. Sometimes he thinks too much and leo helps direct his thoughts. Leo asks him for help the most on solving problems during missions.  He gets to make things exclusively for his brothers like jet powered skateboards and jet skis and communication devices and cloaking technology to hide their home. Once he meets April, she gets him more into chemistry, and Donnie occasionally supplies Mikey with stuff for pranks (like the “elephant toothpaste” stuff) but only when he knows it’s not going to possibly ruin any tech/ or furniture.  

It takes a little while for raph and leo to work out that Leo isn’t trying to be mean/patronizing when helping with training, and that Raph would rather figure things out on his own, but that also he has always cared for all his brothers including leo. Once they find their groove, they almost become inseparable. Can often find them out patrolling together or sparring. Still get in fights over the stupidest things. Raph still gets angry, but it’s not a constant frustration like when they were at Shredder’s. (Shredder had been also purposefully trying to get Raph to be angry a lot, so that he would eventually be like a raging beast he could unleash on his enemies.) Splinter helps to teach Raph better (read: ANY) coping methods for his anger, and so his bouts of anger are far less often and over quicker.

Random fun fact. As the eldest brothers, Mikey and Raph are the ones the brothers go to when they're scared. Go to Mikey when its a silly fear and/or you just want to be cheered up. So when Donnie has a nightmare about all his technology either falling apart or turning against him as a giant computer spider monster or something, he goes to Mikey who doesn't make fun of him and is like "well all we'd have to do is drown it in water duh. When Leo has a bad time after trying to work on his fear of heights, Mikey just makes jokes or talks about something else until he calms down. (or if Leo gets stuck somewhere high because he's too scared to move, Mikey helps distract him from the heights and to look at other things instead). And when Raph gets scared by a bug that managed to get in his room, Mikey doesn't make fun of him, and just scoops the bug up and takes it away.

You go to Raph when you want to feel protected. Raph is the strongest one of them all, and has won most of the fights he's been in. So when Mikey gets spooked by a pile of clothes that looked like a person standing in a dark corner and now every shadow might hold something, he goes to Raph, because, while he knows there's probably nothing there, if there IS, Raph will be able to fight whatever it is. When Donnie is scared that the foot or other villains may get past the security he has guarding their home, he goes to Raph, because Raph will beat up anything that gets past Donnies tech defenses. And when Leo is afraid that Shredder or [redacted] is going to come and take him away again, he goes to Raph, because Raph has promised that he'll never let that happen, and Leo believes him. And big tough angry Raph has a soft and squishy heart, so he will always let his brothers stay with him when they're scared. Because he WILL fight against anything that threatens his brothers.

Their dynamic as teens:

*Listening to some bad guy monologue-ing *

Raph, whispering to Leo: what’s cognizant mean?

Leo: I…. I’m not sure. Don. What’s that mean?

Donnie: Cognizant: to be aware of or in the know of something.

Mikey: Guess Raph and Leo aren’t very cognizant of word definitions hahahaha-

BONK.

Raph: Shut up Mike!! You didn’t know eitha!

(Villain: Hey!! You're supposed to be listening to ME-)

So yeah, leo is the leader because that’s what they were used to and got good at while under the care of the shredder. If they had stayed with splinter its possible that Mikey would have lead, being the oldest, but also possible that he still wouldn’t have wanted the role/ wouldn’t focus well enough for the role. But he does know his brothers well and might have grown more serious. But since the shredder often wrote off his inability to focus as a lost cause, he happily lets Leo make decisions for him during missions. (at home though with things like dinner and movie nights, he likes to pull the oldest brother card to get what he wants lol) .

Raph being one of the strongest fighters could have argued for role as leader, but regardless of being with shredder or splinter he is a hothead and probably would still have not gotten leadership position. Although maybe with splinter he would have been able to work through some of his anger better, and channel it better and could have maybe stepped up as leader. But. As is, he never really worked out how to focus his anger with the shredder, and so there is a little bit of an adjustment period where he has to learn ways to channel his anger and frustration when he can’t just go and beat up the random foot goons in the training room anymore. (probably meets casey this way when he sneaks out to find bad guys to fight and runs into casey instead). Splinter does try to teach him some ways to cope that don’t involve beating people up. Knitting /crocheting is one of those ways (taking the time to MAKE something instead of destroy. And also yarn won’t break like pottery or glass or wood or a painting canvas if it gets punched in frustration).

Donnie is probably the least changed by his time with the shredder. He would have been talking a lot more and sooner had he been with splinter. Donnie did get to have access to more diverse technology tho and perhaps has more skills and experience because of it. Being with Shredder made him very anxious and was often close to a break down from stress, but being able to work in the lab simultaneously made it better (got to work on technology) and worse (never knowing what his work was going to be used for). Donnie is just relieved to no longer have to be building things that were going to hurt people and can now make things to help instead. Donnie really shines once he’s free. Makes friends with April (and leatherhead) he babbles and info dumps all the time, and gets lost in inventions and data, that his brothers often have to snap him out of. Could not lead because he’d get lost in the calculations and what ifs.

Leo actually has a similar problem. Often gets caught in a Do this and face possible consequence, or do That and face a different consequence. Which is better? Will he regret it? Which saves his family and which dooms it? <- this gets amplified during the time he’s alone with the foot. Once he’s back with his brothers they help to push towards decisions (with Raph’s hotheadedness jumping in anyway, Don’s analysis, or Mikey’s fun impulsiveness/instinct.) and that they’ll be there to work through whatever the consequences are anyway, because they’re in this together, good or bad. Brothers forever

[hauntingblue]

Why is this flashback happening now... whi is it centered on mista.... do not kill him too please..... I do not care that much about him but Jesus christ....

[connormoving]

i love finding images and i just knowww me and lamp were on call thinking they were the funniest thing ever .

[zyafics]

GIRL WITH THE SIREN SONG | Rafe Cameron

MASTERLIST (Blurb)

Pairing – Rafe x Mermaid!Female Reader

Summary — Rafe doesn't know how to act when your singing attracts everyone's attention.

Word Count — 1.8K

Content — fluff, protective!Rafe, jealous!Rafe, Sarah acting like a know-at-all (she's lowkey right), enchantment from siren songs, you acting clueless, and occasionally talking to sea creatures. A continuum of this and this.

You’ve been living with the Camerons at Tannyhill.

You have your own room, your own bed, but each night, you sneak into Rafe’s. You don’t understand the human normative of it being scandalous, you see it as an innocent gesture. Because he’s your mate.

“Why do you keep doing this?” Rafe asks softly into your hair as you snuggle against his chest, head resting on his skipping heartbeat. “Is the bed not good enough?”

“It’s fine,” you say.

“Then why do you keep coming into my room?”

Rafe doesn’t mind it, truly. If he can have it his way, he'll have you here every night. But he did it because Sarah suggested it—that you need your separate space, your own sanction outside of Rafe. What Sarah doesn’t understand is that it’s not normal in merfolk culture.

“You’re my mate,” you answer simply, drowsiness coating your words as you yawn against his chest, eyes fluttering to sleep. It’s always easiest to find slumber in Rafe’s arms, and within a few minutes, your breathing evens out, heartbeats slows, and you knock out.

When he rises the next morning, as always, you’re gone. The first time it happened, it scared him. Did you run off somewhere? Leave? He never finds you in your designated bedroom—though, the chances of that are low—and he doesn’t see you in any of the common spaces at Tannyhill. For a bleeding second, he thinks you truly have left.

But when he does find you, it’s on the beach of his estate. Chasing seagulls along the sand, kicking grains in the air, and talking to something.

You tell him it’s the fishes who have come to visit you.

He thinks you’re going insane again.

“You have to show her around Kildare,” Sarah declares, flipping through her morning magazine. “She’s talking to sea creatures because she has no friends.”

That isn’t true. “She has me.”

“Sure, and that’s all the companion she needs,” Sarah drawls sardonically, taking a sip of her glass.

Somewhere, deep down, Rafe knows his sister is right. He refuses to admit to her face, but it’s lonely at Tannyhill. Especially since you rarely join Sarah and her adventures. It doesn’t help that Rafe sometimes leaves you alone to your own devices, needing to help his father at Cameron Development or entertaining his other ventures.

But Rafe doesn’t like the suggestion. He doesn’t like the idea of you going out, away from this protective bubble he made for you. To keep you safe. Yet, he knows it’s necessary. Especially when he comes after you and sees no fishes, no turtles, no sea creatures in sight for you to exhibit such a claim.

You tell him it's because Rafe scared them and they swam away.

After that morning, Rafe suggested a party. Summertime hosts a lot of events, and nothing is more of a Kildare tradition than their weekly bonfires on the beach. It took little convincing to agree, with the stipulation that Rafe joins you.

He does. There’s no way Rafe’s going to leave you alone, and after you get ready—slipping on a bikini set that shows off every inch of your body, with a sheer sarong wrapped around your hips—he takes you to the bonfire.

It’ll be fine, Rafe convinces himself. It’s not like you’re going to be alone; you’ll be with him, in his arms. There’s nothing of danger.

He forgets how captivating you are.

Because when you arrive, all eyes are on you. You don’t realize it yourself—too entranced by the raging ten-foot bonfire in the center of the gathering, fuming dense heat and smoke in your direction. You’re surprised by the magnitude of the human population, sitting on logs, slipping on plastic cups—causing you to scrunch your nose—and having this rhythmic beat coming from large , black boxes that seem to project magic.

At first, the night started off slow. You in Rafe’s arms, introducing yourself to strangers, while he occasionally sips from a glass bottle (you refuse to hand him a plastic cup) while you engage in enthusiastic conversations about human culture.

But sometime later, it all vanishes. The battery to the stereos died, and there was a stilted, eery silence on the beach. Someone suggested a little song around the fire, and while it’s supposed to be taken as a joke, someone else targeted you—asking if you knew any songs to share.

You tell them you only know songs from your pod, these little melodies your people sing while traveling the high seas. They thought you were a nomad, and asked for you to sing one.

So, you do.

And it enraptures the entire audience.

Because you don’t sing a simple tune, a hummed sound in the ocean currents, you activate your siren song, the type to lure men off their boats and make them susceptible to your bidding. It starts with a small group, a handful of guys around you, circling, but as you sing, the crowd grows in magnitude. All men—even ones with girlfriends—ditch their partners to flock to you, to hear your voice, to see you.

It’s a mesmerizing sound.

But it makes Rafe jealous.

He knows it does. All these men have their attention on you, their sights on you, their salivating desire for you; it’s predatory. It makes Rafe tick, because you are no longer his little secret, his little mermaid, kept in his pocket, safeguarded in his arms. You are known, and perceived as the woman with the beautiful voice; the voice that can make any man drop to his knees.

At some point, the song ends, and Rafe thinks he can excuse taking you away from the crowd. But the people cheer—swinging cups in the air, demanding another song. You giggle under the spotlight, firelight shadowing your delicate features, in a way that almost reveals a set of fangs.

You start a new song, another whistle against the wind. Just as alluring, just as deadly.

That’s when Rafe had enough.

He grabs your arm and hauls you off the solitary log, pulling you away from the bonfire, away from the beach. He’s walking so fast, you can’t keep up, feet scrambling to catch ground, to find stability, and your brows furrow with thick confusion as Rafe takes these long, stifled steps towards the parking lot.

“Wait, wait,” you murmur, trying to catch your breath. “I can’t—”

He doesn’t listen.

He persists, trekking along the sand, moving across dried seaweed and driftwood with vigor. It isn’t until you’re trying so hard to match Rafe’s pace, to no avail, that a soft sob rips from the back of your throat, thick with emerging tears.

Once Rafe hears that faint noise, he stops. He releases your wrist and turns around, discovering your crestfallen expression, your eyes brimming with sparkling tears, and the most sadden pout paired with an utter look of confusion.

You exhale softly, scanning Rafe’s tensed features.

“What…” You start slowly, “What did I do wrong?”

Rafe says nothing.

“Are you mad at me?” Your voice croaks as if you can’t stand the thought of him being upset at you. It cracks at his walls, at the hard demeanor he tries to project, and his heart eases.

With a clenched jaw, Rafe glances back to the dispersing crowd of men—disenchanted, now murmuring with sounds of confusion on why they gathered together in the first place.

“Why were you singing?” He demands.

“You don’t like it?” You ask.

“No, I—” He rubs his jaw, a frequent habit he’s been doing since your arrival. “Do you see how those men look at you?”

“Of course I do,” you answer, normally, detached, as if there’s no problem with that.

“And you’re fine with that?” He scoffs.

“It’s a siren song,” you explain. “Of course, they’re going to be entranced. That’s the power of the lure.”

He remembers in his readings about this concept. The way sirens lured sailors to their deaths by the ballad of their voice. But he didn’t think it was still relevant. Of course, he doesn’t really know anything when dealing with this lore—this fusion of reality and fantasy.

Yet, it still doesn’t make sense.

If it’s meant to enchant all the men—why didn’t he get affected? Why didn’t he fall into a spell? Why didn’t he come to her? All he felt was a grating, nauseating feeling hollowing out his chest, thickening his lungs, at the idea that he has to share you and your voice with the rest of the island.

“Why didn’t it affect me?” Rafe asks lowly. He can’t believe he’s playing into this nonsense, this mythology, but it’s the only frame of reference he can work from. “If it’s a siren song, it’s supposed to lure me too. Why didn’t it?”

Your lips curve, as if you’re finding entertainment in his dubiety. Underneath the weight of the moonlight, it comes again, the sharpened row of teeth that he believed to be a reflection of his imagination.

“You’re my mate,” you declare, referring to Rafe as that term once more. “Mates aren’t affected by siren songs.”

“What—?” Rafe’s truly at his wit’s end. “What is that? What does that mean?”

“Do humans not have mates?”

“Do you mean friends?”

You shake your head delicately, taking a step towards him. “It’s a companion for life,” you explain, “Merfolk often travel in pods, but they break up when they hunt. Mates don’t. They’re always together, always bonded. That’s you to me.”

He’s trying to synthesize this into normal terminology. “So a boyfriend?”

“No,” you shake your head. “A mate.”

He’s clearly not getting it, and he’s too frustrated tonight to find the right answer. But, from what you’re saying, it implies that he means something valuable to you. Something precious. That settles the weight in his chest, tames the irritable side of his emotions, and calms the roaring ember of jealousy.

“Alright,” Rafe says after a long beat. “I’m heading back to Tannyhill, you comin’?”

You nod. There’s no way you can stay without your mate; that’s unsightly. Rafe extends his hand for you to take, and upon recognizing human customs, you do.

With contact, Rafe pulls you back towards him, towards his side, and you evenly walk to the parking lot where he has his car.

“If it bothers you, I’ll stop singing,” you say as Rafe wraps an arm around your shoulder, shielding you from the brisk nightly wind of the Atlantic Ocean.

“No, don’t,” Rafe enjoys your singing. In the morning, as you talk to your sea creatures; before bed, as you clean your teeth. He likes the soothing element of the sound. Music to his ears.

He just doesn’t like sharing.

“Just don’t sing to anyone but me.”

IMPORTANT INFO ABOUT TAGLIST AND UPDATES: if you want to be notified about all my fics and updates, follow @zyafics-library and turn on notifications! however, if you want to be added to this specific taglist, let me know (but to remain tagged, you must interact with the posts).

TAGLIST FOR MERMAID!READER: @nemesyaaa / @promiscuousg1rl / @fullofsunshineandloneliness / @erwinsvow / @perfectprettypisces / @immalosersblog / @carolinevoight / @drewswife / @skye-44 / @ggraycelynn / @tinythebunni / @rain-likes-purple / @drewstarkeyspecs / @lolasangelz / @chalahyung01 / @waywardalpacaoctopus

[ezgurple]

hi ezzz!!! Waddup🤙 since it’s summer and summer vibes an stuff, do the turtlz and maybe April and Casey have summer outfits? Like swimsuits an stuff, I just think it’s a really funny idea lol, if you do have designs, do you also have one for Mona???

also hey how you doin, heard your goin thru some stuff, just also checking in on you😋🫶

i dont have many summer things. but this !

i will use this opportunity to talk about my turtlez at the pool. mueheh

april knows one secret pool for the turtles to swim in without having to worry about any other humanzz joining in..

the turtles love being in the water!

they love swimming, except for april. she will just chill in the corner somewhere in the pool.. shes scared of going too deep into the water. she must touch the floor at all times!! she cant swim 🦭 the guys will attack casey if he dare tries to throw april in the pool

and the turtles always want to play some sort of game in the pool but not donnie. he doesn’t like all of the splashing tht happens during tht stuff. he will most likely be in the corner with april and chill with her while mike & raph try to drown each other in the pool.

casey & leo will probably do dumb challenges like who can swim fastest or who can hold their breath the longest underwater.. leo will win that challenge every time.

turtles also like to sunbathe of courseee.

their masks stay on in the pool btw… how gross. soggy masks!

and sorry no mona pics💔 i think i will actually draw more summer things when i get back home. aaand thank u for askin this stuff!

[phoebepheebsphibs]

A LOTTLE LOUDER FOR THE PEOPLE IN THE BACK

[theanonymousninja247]

🖤 The Dapper Snapperz🖤

As a creator, I really should not be left alone with my imagination and access to this site because I am really having too much fun with this.

Plz send help. I’m eating my TMNT Mac and cheese I’ve been cackling like a hyena for the past couple hours. My roomate is concerned.

Part B of this

headbonks @doreen090 and @luckycharms1701

[chadobi]

Baby Fever and Tech Support

Bayverse Donatello x Fem!Reader

i have a fucking baby fever rn 😭

You weren’t planning on falling in love with a baby today.

But the moment your cousin handed you her newborn — tiny, soft, and swaddled in a blanket with little ducks — it hit you like a freight train of hormones and hope.

His little fingers curled around yours. His eyes blinked open for half a second before fluttering shut again, face scrunching in a yawn so adorable it could melt concrete.

You were done for.

Totally and completely done for.

By the time you got home, your brain was already somewhere in fantasy land. A fantasy land that, unfortunately, involved a big soft turtle in purple goggles and your shared hypothetical future.

You collapsed onto your couch with a sigh, heart still aching from the cuteness.

The window slid open fifteen minutes later, and Donnie poked his head in.

“You texted me four crying emojis, one baby bottle, and a duck,” he said, climbing in. “So either you’re extremely sleep-deprived or emotionally compromised.”

“I met my cousin’s baby today,” you said dreamily.

Donnie blinked. “Ah. So… emotionally compromised.”

You reached into your pocket and showed him a photo. It was blurry, sure, but the little bundle was clearly sleeping on your chest.

“He’s so soft, Don. He made this squeaky noise when he yawned. And he smelled like baby lotion and fresh blankets and literal joy—”

You stopped.

Because Donnie had the face. The processing-too-many-variables-and-also-mildly-panicking face.

You softened, patting the spot next to you. “Relax, genius. I’m not saying I’m ready to pop one out tomorrow.”

He hesitated, then slowly sat beside you. “Okay. Good. Because biologically, I’m not sure how that would even—wait. That came out wrong.”

You laughed, nudging his arm. “It’s not about the logistics, Don. I just… I guess I got hit with a little baby fever. That’s all.”

He tilted his head. “Like… a temporary hormonal longing for nurturing and offspring prompted by exposure to an infant?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Exactly. And leave it to you to make it sound like a science project.”

He adjusted his glasses with a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Coping mechanism.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, your voice a little softer now. “I just didn’t expect to feel it so hard, you know? Seeing him so tiny… made me think about the future. Our future.”

Donnie went very still.

You felt it — the tension in his frame, the inhale he held a beat too long. But then, instead of pulling away, he slowly wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“I think about it too,” he admitted quietly.

You blinked. “You do?”

He nodded. “I mean… I don’t exactly know what it would look like. But I know it includes you. That much is clear.”

Your heart squeezed.

“And yeah,” he continued, now fidgeting with the edge of your throw blanket. “The idea of tiny, squishy… half-you people running around kind of fries my brain a little. But also? It doesn’t scare me as much as it used to. Not with you.”

You smiled into his shoulder, tears pricking your eyes. “You’d be a great dad, you know.”

He gave a soft, breathy laugh. “I’d be a paranoid, overly-researched, baby-monitor-hacking, formula-analyzing wreck.”

“Exactly,” you said. “And perfect.”

You both sat in silence for a moment, your head tucked under his chin, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your arm.

“…How small was his hand?” Donnie asked suddenly.

You held up your pinky finger. “Like, this small. Maybe smaller.”

He blinked, amazed. “Incredible. I could probably 3D print a baby bottle one-handed, y’know.”

You chuckled. “Oh, I know. You’d make a baby carrier with built-in UV sensors and bottle warmers.”

Donnie looked pleased with that mental image. “And a nightlight with adjustable circadian rhythm settings.”

“…And goggles that play lullabies.”

“Bluetooth-enabled.”

You laughed again, this time full-bellied, imagining a baby wearing techy purple Donatello goggles.

But then something shifted in the silence. Something warm and real.

Donnie looked down at you with a soft expression. “If you… ever want to talk seriously about it. Someday. I mean, long down the road. I’d like that.”

Your breath caught.

You turned to face him fully, your eyes searching his. “You really mean that?”

“I do.” His voice was steady now. “Whatever the future brings — as long as it includes you — I want to be ready for it.”

You leaned forward and kissed him. It was slow, deep, a little shaky from how full your chest felt.

When you pulled back, you whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, a little breathless.

Then, with a small smirk: “Although if we do eventually have kids, I’m installing motion sensors in the nursery.”

“And I’m naming the baby,” you countered.

“Deal,” he grinned.

[sweeneydino]

Slime Attack! Raph Ver.

Your favorite turtles are waiting for their slimes 🐢

Gonna slime info dump a little below

Gave big ol' Rise Raph a tabby slime because they are very friendly and love to boop – they are literal slime cats – and idk about you, but I think rise raph deserves the cuddles. And they come with the added bonus of their plorts being a high commodity for athletes, with only a little drawback. If you know, you know.

Since 2012 Raphael has Chompy, whose a fire turtle basically, the fire slime seemed a good fit. They are rather affectionate but also require a hot place to stay, i.e an ash trough and they BURN. Just burn some trash and boom, food for the firecracker. Their plorts would be a nice snack for chompy, plus a cuddle buddy.

The affectionate part is only because these little shits keep jumping on and following me on the range, and while I do love them, they do tend to get themselves killed.

2003 Raph got the Saber slime, as someone– yknow who you are– suggested! They are similar to the tabby slime as they are cat-like, but unlike them, these guys are food possessive. And thought to be extinct, but that's not important. They will roar, scaring any other slimes, just to get food. Or to just announce their arrival. These guys parkour, too, so now Mikey's got a roadblock.

2003 Donnie might be kind of sad he didn't get one but there's always another chance.

And finally, 1987 Raph with the mischievous ringtail slime!

...do I have to explain?

These fellas bring my carrot farm every ounce of shame as they stare with those shifty eyes back at me, and all I can do is continue feeding them over... and over... and over again...

Oh, and they turn to stone too, but nothing little money can't fix.

[woogilicious]

rent's cheap, ghost included ꒰ wooyoung ꒱

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ pairing: broke college student!wooyoung x ghost!reader (gender neutral ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ word count: 2.4k words ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ genre: comedy, fluff, hurt/comfort, supernatural au, soft angst ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ warnings: curse words, discussions of depression, suicidal thoughts, mentions of death (non graphic), wooyoung being an annoying little shit sometimes ⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ a.n: this oneshot is more casual than the others and it's actually my favourite, lol. i know it sounds cliché, but i just really love this type of storyline so much.

You don't know who the hell decided to rent out your house to another human so soon. It's been, what? Two months since the last one moved out? And you were this close to getting peace and quiet.

But nope. Now you're stuck with watching some college kid struggle to drag in a suitcase twice his size and sad looking rice cooker into your kitchen.

You float near the ceiling, arms crossed, frowning hard enough to wrinkle the ghostly air around you.

He's muttering under his breath the whole time. "God, finally," he says, wiping sweat off his forehead with the sleeve of his hoodie. "I don't even care if this place is haunted. It's cheap, and I'm broke, so I've accepted death."

You narrow your eyes. He's accepted death? Oh, honey. We'll see about that.

You watch as he dumps his stuff in the middle of the dusty living room, sighs deeply, and flops onto the floor, face first. You wait for a bit.

...now.

You blow a cold breeze past his ear. He shivers, shrugs his hoodie up to cover his head like a turtle, and immediately starts snoring.

What?

No screaming? No running away? He's just... asleep?

You float down closer, staring at him. He's cute, you guess. A little stupid, maybe. Who sleeps on the floor without a blanket?

Fine, you'll step it up.

Later that night, after he wakes up and shuffles into the kitchen to cook himself some instant noodles, you slam the cupboard doors. Not once, not twice, but eight times.

He doesn't even flinch, just stands there, stirring his sad little noodles, muttering, "Me too, buddy," like he's the one haunting YOU.

You rattle the windows, and he throws a thumbs up at the ceiling.

You drag a chair across the floor with an awful screech and he shouts, "Sounds good, friend!" and keeps eating.

You...

You don't know what to do with this guy.

He's ruining your reputation as a ghost.

You float around, sulking, until you finally decide that if he won't be scared of invincible ghost you, then you'll just show yourself.

You remember the last tine you showed yourself. An old man had almost died of a heart attack and you felt so bad that you cried.

But Wooyoung? He deserves it.

You focus real hard, pulling your form together. It's a little tricky since you haven't done it in a while, but you manage. A little translucent, and a little floaty, but you look decent.

You drift right in front of him while he's standing by the sink, trying to get the hot water to work.

"Hi," you say, your voice a little echoey and spooky on purpose. "I'm the ghost haunting this house."

He blinks, dropping the mug he was holding which thankfully, was empty. He tilts his head a little. Then, with all the enthusiasm as if someone finding out their favourite ramen flavour was back in stock, he grins and goes, "Cool!"

You stare at him and he stares back, so genuinely delighted that you actually float back a little, suspicious.

"So―" he sets the mug on the counter carefully. "Are you, like, a real ghost? Or, like, a stress hallucination? I mean, either way it's fine, but it'd be sick if you were real."

You blink at him, a little thrown off. "...I'm real."

He pumps a fist in the air. "Hell yeah! This house is awesome, cheap rent and I get a new friend? Awesome!"

You don't even know what to say to that. No one's ever been happy to see you before. You're kinda... weirdly flattered?

After that first night, everything gets... weird.

Day by day, Wooyoung just keeps talking to you. You don't even have to show yourself anymore. Half the time, you're just floating somewhere near the ceiling, watching him live his life like he's got an invisible roommate.

And oh my god.

He. does. not. shut. up.

You kinda thought he would calm down after a while. Maybe get tired of talking to a ghost who barely replies.

But, nope! Turns out, for someone who is constantly tired and has panda eyes and sighs like he's carrying the weight of the world on his back... he's got a lot of mouth energy.

"Today I dropped a whole box of paper towel at work and my manager looked at me like I committed a crime," he tells you one afternoon, kicking his shoes off and throwing himself face-first onto the couch. "Like dude, calm down? It's just a paper towel, not some fragile diamonds."

You hover over the lamp, just blinking slowly.

He waves a hand in the air, half heartedly. "Yeah, yeah. I know. Your silence is valid too, and you're so real for that."

Some nights, he sits cross-legged on the floor, eating cup noodles as usual and watching weird documentaries on YouTube. All of a sudden, he tells you some random facts.

"Did you know that octopuses have three hearts?" He says, pointing the noodle cup at you like it's a microphone. "And they can just vibe with no bones. Just, squish around."

You just float nearby, dead silent.

"I think you'd like being an octopus," he adds thoughtfully. "You're kinda floaty too."

Sometimes you wonder if you're the one who is getting haunted by this loud, chaotic, tired human.

Not that you mind, exactly. It's just new.

But one night, it's different.

You know the second he walks in.

He slams the door harder than usual. He doesn't kick his shoes off, doesn't mutter a tired "I'm home" like he always does.

You drift down from the ceiling, watching.

He throws his work apron onto the floor and his hands are shaking a little.

"Fucking―" he starts, then cuts himself off, dragging his hands through his hair. "Customers are the worst!"

He paces the living room in circles. You follow him slowly, floating just a few feet away.

"This one guy today," he says, voice getting louder, "This asshole―he yelled at me for like, five minutes straight because the yogurt he wanted was sold out. Like I fucking make the yogurt myself, right?"

You float quietly.

He's not really talking to you. He's just letting it all pour out.

"I hate it," he mumbles. "I hate this stupid job. I hate that I'm broke. I hate that I'm killing myself for college when I'm not even smart. I'm just doing it because―" he stops, swallowing hard. "―because if I don't, my parents will be disappointed. Tsk, like they aren't already."

You reach out without thinking―your hand passing through his shoulder gently―trying to comfort him, even if he can't feel it.

Wooyoung laughs a little, but it's not the funny kind. It's broken.

He sits down hard on the couch, staring at the floor, then he looks up, right at you.

Even though you're invisible, somehow, he knows where you are.

"...Hey," he says, voice small. "Is it fun? Being a ghost?"

You blink.

"Like... is it better?" he keeps going, softer now. "Do you get to just... stop worrying about stupid shit? Like bills and parents and yogurt?"

He huffs a breath that's almost a laugh.

"I mean, if it's better," he says, looking back at the floor, "Maybe I should just―you know? Join you."

The room goes very, very quiet.

And you.

You feel something deep in your chest, something you haven't felt in a long time. Fear.

Not for yourself.

For him.

You don't even hesitate to pull your form together. No more floating half-there, no more hiding. You focus until you're solid enough that he can see you clearly.

You step forward, right in front of him, and say―out loud, real and desperate―"No. Don't do that."

Wooyoung's hand snaps up. His eyes go wide, so wide and then―just like that, he breaks.

He lets out this raw, awful sob and crumples forward, burying his face in his hands. It's not loud, or dramatic. It's quiet, like it hurts too much to even cry properly.

"I'm so tired," he chokes out between broken gasps. "I'm so fucking tired of pretending."

You kneel down in front of him, trying to catch his gaze, but he just keeps talking, keeps pouring it out like a dam that has finally broke.

"Everyone thinks I'm―" he waves a hand weakly. "The funny guy, the loud guy, the one who never shuts up. And I guess you probably think that too."

Well, that is true.

"But I'm just..." he presses his hands harder against his face. "I'm just filling up the silence so I don't have to think about how empty I feel. I'm trying so hard to make life feel like it's worth living."

He looks up, and god, his face is so red and wet and messy that it hurts to look at.

"But to me... it's nothing."

Your chest aches.

You don't think. You just move.

You wrap your arms around him, and somehow, somehow, for the first time, he can feel you.

His body stiffens in shock for half a second. Then he breaks even more, grabbing onto you like he's drowning.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be a ghost.

He doesn't care that you're supposed to be scary.

He just needs to be held.

"Let me," he whispers, voice totally wrecked. "Let me join you."

You shake your head hard. You pull back just enough to cup his tear streaked face in your hands, forcing him to look at you.

"No," you whisper. "Please. Don't waste your life."

He shudders.

"I know it's hard," you say, your voice shaking. "I know it feels like there's no point sometimes. But you're still here. You're still breathing. You're still fighting, even when it sucks."

You swipe your thumb under his eyes, wiping a tear.

"…and that's brave, Wooyoung. Braver than anything I ever did."

He frowns, confused through the tears. "What do you mean?"

You exhale slowly.

"I became a ghost," you say, "because I gave up."

His eyes widen.

"I thought… if I stopped trying, the pain would stop too. And it did. Kind of? But now I'm stuck."

You glance around the living room, the cracked walls, the flickering lightbulb.

"I'm stuck here, watching life go on without me. Watching people laugh and cry and live—even when it's messy, painful and unfair and I can't be a part of it anymore."

You look back at him, and your voice cracks.

"I would give anything to have another chance. To eat bad noodles, to get yelled at by annoying customers. To walk down a street and feel the sun."

You grip his shoulders tighter.

"And no matter how bad I want to have another chance, I can't. But you still can."

He stares at you, breathing hard, hands still clutching your sleeves like he's scared if you'll disappear if he lets go.

"Please," you whisper. "Don't throw it away. Not like I did."

You don't know how long you stay like that, holding him. But slowly, Wooyoung's breathing starts to even out. He blinks up at you with swollen eyes and puffy cheeks and somehow still manages a tiny, tired laugh.

"You're kinda… a terrible ghost," he croaks. "Aren't you supposed to scare me away or something?"

You smile a little, brushing his messy hair off his forehead. "Maybe," you whisper. "But I think you're scarier."

He snorts. "Fair."

You squeeze his hand, gentle but firm.

"Wooyoung," you say softly. "You're not alone."

He swallows thickly.

"I'm here," you say. "I'll be here. As long as you need me."

You press your forehead lightly against his. Your voice drops to a whisper.

"Let's heal together."

He squeezes his eyes shut, tears leaking out again—but this time, they feel lighter.

"Yeah," he breathes. "Let's do that."

He pulls you into a hug again. Tight, real, so full of feeling you almost forget you're supposed to be a ghost. You hug him back just as hard.

After a long moment, he mumbles into your shoulder. "You gotta promise me, though. Promise me you won’t leave me."

You smile.

"I promise," you say.

Life doesn't magically fix itself overnight.

Wooyoung still comes home with bags under his eyes. He still has days where he slams the door and mutters about rude customers.

But he doesn't cry alone anymore, because you're there.

You're there when he drags himself into bed and mumbles goodnight to the ceiling. You're there when he rants about dumb professors and overpriced cafeterias food. You're there when he laughs too loud at memes on his phone and shows you even though you can't actually hold his phone yourself.

But slowly, you see the light coming back into him.

He even starts bringing back little cheap snacks from the convenience store. He leaves them on the counter with a little sticky note that says, "For ghostie" even though you physically can't eat them.

It makes you smile anyway.

Tonight is movie night.

You're curled up on the couch, or well, floating while cross legged slightly above the couch. While Wooyoung got three blankets wrapped around himself like a burrito, clutching a giant bowl of popcorn.

"Okay," he says, eyes shining. "We're watching a horror movie. A real one. None of that jumpscare baby stuff."

You raise an eyebrow at him. "You sure about that?"

He scoffs. "Pft. Yeah! I live with a ghost so I'm built different."

You smirk. "Right."

He picks some indie horror movie that looks grimy and messed up. Lots of dark woods, and creepy faces in mirror. Within fifteen minutes, Wooyoung is already sitting suspiciously closer to you. Within thirty minutes, he's gripping the popcorn bowl like his life depends on it.

You nudge him in the side.

He yelps so loud he throws a handful of popcorn straight into the air.

"Oh my god—!" he gasps, clutching his chest.

You stare at him.

"You," you say, pointing at him, "are scared of this?"

He scowls, cheeks turning red. "It's spooky, okay?!"

You float a little closer, crossing your arms.

"You literally live with a whole ass ghost. A real one." You jab a thumb at yourself. "Me. Hi. Real ghost."

He huffs. "Yeah, but you're not scary! You're—" he waves his arms vaguely. "You're you!"

You stare. He stares back, defensive.

Then you burst out laughing.

"Unbelievable," you snicker. "Wooyoung, living with a real life ghost, defeated by a low-budget horror film."

He grins, wide and stupid and alive.

And for the first time in a long, long time, you both feel it. Hope.

Real, stubborn, stupid, wonderful hope.

And maybe that's what living is, you think. Even if you're technically not breathing anymore. Just being here, together.

It’s messy and imperfect.

It's life.

[pookietv]

assistance | george clarke

a short one since i've been gone so long :) enjoy!

only you could break an arm whilst running back from the club bathrooms after hearing a banger that you just couldn't miss singing with your friends.

you felt silly with the cast on, almost like you were too grown up to have a sling - that felt like something that should be reduced to childhood play, after falling out of a tree and running to the classroom with glee, excited for signatures - but as a twenty-three year old, you felt more like a turtle who had rolled on its own back, unable to do simple things.

washing dishes was one, showering was another and the most embarrassing - changing shirts, getting tangled between the material with no escape for your cast ridden arm.

luckily, you lived with george, arthur and chris, so with a bit of convincing you were relieved from doing the dishes, the boys picking up the slack for you.

you had a birthday party tonight - will had been convinced (or forced) to throw a party for his 29th (with the persuasion being 'this is your last birthday in your twenties' scaring him enough into saying yes) so you were getting ready in your room.

you had struggled with makeup enough to do the absolute basics one-handedly, and pulled a dress out of your closet: a classic LBD, sleek and form fitting, with a small golden zip at the back.

after wriggling out of your comfy home clothes, you began to tackle getting into the dress, which had been easy enough until it got to getting your casted arm through the small hole, dress half pulled up, almost decent, but your arm trapped within the confines of the dress like a straightjacket.

grumbling to yourself and biting your tongue for a moment, you couldn't have been more embarrassed to crack your bedroom door open, and shout of george in a reserved tone.

you knew any of the boys would help you really, but in the fact that the dress was half on-half off you, you figured george was the one you would mind the least seeing you in this state.

you and him had always been a little flirty, there had been a couple of drunken kisses that had lingered in your thoughts longer than you cared to admit, so you figured george.

his door swung open, his head up and looking at my door from his end of the corridor.

"did you shout?" he said, looking at your head peeking through the cracked door.

"yeah, i.. i'm stuck in my dress, i can't get the stupid cast arm through," you said, an embarrassed smile forming through half gritted teeth.

you heard george's patented giggle as he walked towards your door, tongue slightly sticking out of his mouth as he laughed (george girls,,, you know what laugh i mean).

"you want some help?" he grinned, and you nodded sheepishly, pulling your door open a little wider to let him in.

you weren't indecent, but your chest was almost out of the dress, and it was riding a little high due to the awkward position your arm was stuck in.

"right, so..." he started again, before looking at you once more and breaking into another fit of giggles.

"yep, hilarious," you said sarcastically, though georges laugh was making a small smile crack on your face, "okay, can you help me now?"

"yep, yep, sorry," he grinned for a minute, looking at you for a moment, "i'll uh, gently try and ease it through, tell me if it hurts though, okay?" he said, and you nodded as you felt his hand delicately touch your wrist (or more, the cast on your wrist) and guide it to the gap, adjusting your arms and going slowly as not to bump the injured limb.

the whole time, all he could think about was holding his breath and not looking directly down, which he had already done about four times obviously, which had given him a brilliant sky view of your chest, anxious that you would think he was weird for.

once your arm had been pulled through, you gave george an embarrassed look of gratitude, "thanks, uh, yeah.. getting changed with this thing has been kind of a nightmare,"

he nodded, shrugging his shoulders as if to say don't worry about it, "yeah, i can imagine, i sprained my arm in rugby but wasn't too bad, only a light one," he said softly.

"could you do me one last favour and zip the back for me?" you asked, a sweet look on your face as if to convince you.

"y-yeah, not a problem," he murmured as you turned around, swiping your hair out of the way of your back.

the slight drag of his hand against your bare back as he aligned the zips, and then towards the bottom of your back as he pulled it up sent a slightly mortifying shiver down your spine.

"if you need any help later getting back out of it, let me know," george grinned, clearly proud of his innuendo.

"you joke, but i probably will need help," you laughed, your cheeks a slight tinge red.

"i'm more than happy to help," he smirked, before sauntering out of your room.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

with what you just said omfg. please. 🙏🙏🙏

HEAD CANONS FOR THE 12 BOYS DOING THE SPIDERMAN KISS WITH THEIR GIRL?! HEHEHEHE

Spiderman Kiss (Fluff)

2012!Turtles x reader

A/N: I’ve been binging too much TwoSet, so this took me four days to make. Why? Because violins, baby!😂 And YES, I just saw the title of their latest video, and NO I don’t have guts to watch it😭

Warning: None💚

Leonardo:

The peaceful quietness of your bedroom was disturbed, when you heard light tapping against  your window, making you look up from whatever you were doing. A soft smile spread across your face, already knowing who you would find outside your window.

With a happy skip in your step, you made your way to your window, opening it and letting the cold night air of New York City enter your room. And there you found him, hanging upside down from the fire escape over yours, smiling at you with that sweet boyish smile and pretty blue eyes.

“Leo”, you smiled, feeling giddy at the sight of your turtle boyfriend hanging outside your window. “What are you doing here?”, you asked, climbing out on the fire escape. “You haven’t told me you would come by”.

“I just thought I’ll come by to say hey before patrol”, he smiled, watching as you came closer to him. Even upside down, you made his heart skip a beat. “Can’t a guy just check in on his girlfriend?”

“Of course you can”, you smiled, standing right before him.

The two of you smiled at each other for a moment, before your hand came to rest on his cheek, your thumb stroking his jaw.

“Will you come over after patrol?”, you asked. “My parents won’t be home before tomorrow”.

“When you ask so nicely”, Leo chuckled. “Of course I will. Anything for my girl”.

You bite your lip, feeling butterflies fly through your stomach. Something that tended to happen when Leo decided to play up his charm. And so, you softly pressed your lips to his in a soft sweet kiss. When you pulled from the kiss, you found Leo smiling from ear to ear, looking at you with pure love in his eyes.

“I love you, Leo”, you smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “See you after patrol”.

“I love you too, (Y/N)”, Leo hummed, savoring the feeling of your lips against his forehead. “See you later”.

Raphael:

You were talking down the street, returning home after a long night out. Even without your headphones, you probably wouldn’t have noticed the familiar figure coming down from above, hanging upside down in the streetlamp you were about to pass. So when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder, you turned with your fists up, ready to fight like your boyfriend had taught you. But when you then found your boyfriend, hanging upside down before you with a smirk plastered across his face, you let out a sigh of relief.

“God damn Raph, don’t do that”, you sighed. “You almost scared the shit out of me”.

“I was going for your pants, but I guess that was one way to do it”, Raph chuckled, his eyes lingering on your for a moment. “On your way home?”

“One were to think that you were the genius turtle with those detective skills”, you laughed, making Raph pull a playful grimes.

“Ha ha, very funny”, he said, reaching one hand out for you, perking his lips. “Now, come here. Gimme a kiss”.

“What if I don’t want to”, you asked, not putting any effort into hiding your smile, as you took a step backwards, getting just out of his reach. Raph gasped in an overly dramatic manner, making you giggle at his antics.

“It’s not nice to lie, (Y/N)”, Raph said, faking an angry expression. “Now, give me a kiss before I get mad”, he continued, pecking his lips once more.

You couldn’t help but giggle, giving in with a bright smile. Holding Raph’s head in your hands, you pressed your lips to his in a small peck that made him hum playfully when you pulled back.

“You look pleased”, you smiled, still holding his head in your hands.

“I am”, Raph smiled. “But I would be more pleased if you gave me another kiss”.

You let out a happy laugh, throwing your head back. Your, oh so charming teaseful boyfriend, always managed to sneak in comments like that.

“Okay, you whining baby”, you smiled, before pressing your lips to his again, feeling him pull you closer with his free hand. This kiss was longer and deeper than the first, yet still short and sweet, making both you and Raph feel tingles in your stomachs.

Raph pulled from the kiss with a very satisfied look on his face, giving you that smug smile once again. “See, that wasn’t so bad”.

“Dork”, you smiled, nudging him slightly on his shoulder.

“All me dork all you want, babe. But even I know you like it”, Raph smirked, before getting ready to climb back up the lamp pole. “And when I get back from patrol, you’ll get more”.

Donatello:

“Donnie?”, you called out, looking around Donnie’s garage lab. But with him being nowhere to see, you did a turn on the spot, taking in your surroundings once more. Where could he be? You had texted him several times, but he still hasn't answered you. And that was an hour ago! “Babe?”

“Up here!”

You looked up to the rafters of the garage, finding your turtle boyfriend on the beams above, fiddling with wirings and all sorts of strange things, that you still had no idea what their names were.

“What are you doing up there?”, you asked, crossing your arms as you smiled up at your boyfriend.

“What does it look like I’m doing?”, Donnie smiled. “I’m fixing the lights. And the electric wires… and the heat… pretty much everything”.

“Okay, but why?”

“Well…”, Donnie sighed, sitting back up on the beam, looking up as he thought. “First Leo came and asked me to fix the lights, because it wasn’t strong enough to let him read. Then Mikey came and told me he had problems with his outlets. And then Raph started yelling up about the heating in his room. And since the wires and all access points are up here, I just decided to get them all done”.

“I guess that makes sense”, you said, taking a seat in Donnie’s chair, watching as he continued to work. “Do you need any help up there?”

“No, no, I got it”, Donnie said, not taking his eyes from what he was working with.

“Okaaayyy….”, you said, not feeling fully sure about his answer. “But please be careful, babe”.

“I’m always careful, (Y/N)”, Donnie said with a smile and his eyes closed, making you uneasy straight away. “I know what I’m doing, so there’s no need to worRY!-”

And just like you had feared it would happen, Donnie fell off the beam and tumbled towards the ground beneath. But before you could even let out a sound, and before Donnie could reach the ground, he found himself tangled up the wires he had just been fiddling with, leaving him hanging upside down just before you, with a sheepish smile. "Whoops".

You stood from the chair, crossing your arms with a smug smile, as you walked towards your tangled up boyfriend. “Seems like you do”.

“This wasn’t part of the plan”, Donnie said, looking up as his lower half tangled up.

“It wasn’t?”, you asked in a teasing manner. “Well, at least I know where I can find you now”. And then, before Donnie could ask what you meant, you took his face in your hands, before pressing a kiss to his lips, making him hum in pleasant surprise. “Now, let’s get you out of all that”.

Michelangelo:

With a sigh you laid back on the bed, turning your head to watch your boyfriend on the floor, as he tinkered around with his latest action figures. That was what happened when he got his hands on a new collectible. That was just how it was. You knew better than to get in the way of Mikey’s hobbies, but damn, sometimes you would get bored just watching him, when you had hoped that day would have been all about a couple time.

“Mikey”, you said with another sigh, trying to catch the attention of your turtle boyfriend.

“Yes, babe?”, Mikey asked, still not taking his eyes off the figure in his hand as he moved its arms around.

“When will you come and cuddle?”

“Just a moment babe, I just got to look through the rest first”.

You let out another loud exacerbated sigh, spreading your arms out on Mikey’s bed like seastar. Mikey still had several boxes on all new figures to go through, and you were getting impatient. ADHD can’t spread to other people by touch, but by this point you fully believed that you had gotten it from Mikey. Ever since you had gotten together with the orange clad turtle, you had started taking on many of his mannerisms. Such as his tendency to sigh in annoyance when getting impatient. And funnily enough, Mikey never seemed to notice when you did so. Just like right now. No reaction. Not what you wanted. So you had to do something about it. And you knew just how.

You scooted yourself around the bed, until you laid with your head resting down the side of the bed, allowing you to look at Mikey with your head upside down. You pucked your lips, making loud and obscene kissing noises. But… still nothing.

Right! That’s it! And with that you grabbed a hold of Mikey’s head, pulling him towards you as he made a surprised sound. You pressed his lips to yours, kissing him while you were still laying upside down on his bed.

“What was that for?”, Mikey asked with a smile.

“Because I’m getting impatient!”, you whined, trying to hide your smile. “And you’re just sitting there looking like a snack! What do you expect me to do?”

“You know what?”, Mikey said, laying his figure down on the floor before coming to a stand, smiling at you. “You’re right. Cuddle time!”

You did not have time to move before Mikey decided to jump on to the bed, throwing himself on you, letting you scream out in laughter, when he started attacking your face with kisses. You regretted NOTHING.