#there will be more 👹

[zeynyukine3011]

Some Damian Wayne Headcanons

Damian's favourite art medium is oil paint. It is expensive and a very hard medium to master. It is a good challenge for Damian.

Damian likes to make a dent on his father's bank account with the amount of art supplies he buys.

He and Talia spend hours chatting on phone calls.

When he is tired of Bruce's bullshit (which is very often) he goes to stay with his mother.

He draws Alfred a lot. Sometimes rough sketches, sometimes detailed paintings. Because he misses him so much. And Bruce finally learns that this is how his son copes with trauma.

Damian and Talia go to shopping together. Like mother like son, they are both ✨ fashion icons✨

Sometimes, when it is night, when no one is there to listen, Damian sits on his bed and talks with his cat like he is talking to Alfred. Often mundane, everyday things, but sometimes he pours his heart out. He cries and hugs his cat. He falls asleep like that.

When Damian feels stressed and restless, he polishes his swords and knives. It keeps both his hands and mind busy.

[mellounir]

didn't forgot about these two Links

[onifanss]

Should have put my cat ears on for this 😔

[tekitothemagpie]

My sun 😔🤲🏼

[just-call-mefr1es]

the new solarballs episode got me thinking,,,

all the planets with moons have more than one moon. except for earth. during the hide n seek part of the moon club pt 2, where titan rounds all the moons via tge planet the moons orbit, i thought it was kinda sad how all the moons had atleaset one moon within their category but luna had to sit alone with the godforsaken ‘earth’s moon’ written out right above them:( im sure they know that earth probs shouldnt have more than one moon, and is cool with that fact, but idk it seems kinda lonely being amongst the other moons who have their fellow moons (did i word thst right)

i mean yeah, they technically have phobos n deimos to keep em company, byt still. being openly deadnamed and lonely mustve sucked💔💔

oh and i arted

(i cant twll if i like it or not😵‍💫😵‍💫)

edit: just realized that the ‘esrth’s moon’ thing was probably accidental, like, titan was rounding all the moons up by order n shit, but like- if theres only one moon under their category, then couldn’t you just write their name???😭 eh idk just a thought🌞

[myokk]

fast sketch of my one-shot with Ominis💓

legilimency

Word count: 1.700

Rating: M (language)

Ominis Gaunt is a lost case - lost to the whims of one very determined Gryffindor sitting at his side.

They sit in the back of the History of Magic classroom, the only two students not lulled to somnolence by their professor. He: trying his hardest to focus on Professor Binns’ droning (easier said than done). She: trying her hardest to distract Ominis while not being entirely sure of being successful or not (easier attempted than understood).

Professor Binns is completely insufferable, of course. Ominis wonders if the ghost is as blind as he is: Binns willfully ignores the fact that all of his students use his class as an excuse to get a nap in (maybe he simply doesn’t see them sleeping - only one of many reasons why Ominis has decided he could never be a professor), rambling on and on in the most boring way possible. As if he were trying to be as dull as possible (maybe he does it to avoid interacting with the students which…can’t be to blame). In a different life, Ominis could see himself quite liking the subject, but as things stand he despises it.

Especially now.

Ominis fervently wishes that he could fall asleep.

Then, he might avoid hearing her thoughts - they’re consuming him and he can’t ignore them as much as he would like to.

Normally, he loves this class - not the subject, obviously - but the class itself, for the sheer fact that it is the only time where he gets some peace and quiet. Everyone’s minds nice and quiet and shut off for the time being while they sleep. Although he has gotten used to ignoring the thoughts of everyone around him, their various voices mixing and mingling with each other into a dull thrum in the back of his mind, it is nice to have some quiet once in a while.

But right now, with everyone asleep except for the Gryffindor at his side, her thoughts are so loud it’s like she’s screaming at him.

So here he is, wishing he could fall asleep, leave the class, maybe turn off the infernal legilimency that has haunted him his whole life.

(His parents and Marvolo insist it’s a gift handed down from Slytherin himself, just like the Parseltongue Ominis despises. It is not. It is a curse.)

He is stuck listening to her.

It doesn’t help that she seems to have caught on to him - something he had managed to avoid until now. Nobody else, not even Sebastian or Anne, has ever suspected a thing. But, in all fairness, those two are extremely loud and say every single thought that passes through their minds out loud even when they should remain quiet, and nobody else has had the opportunity to spend enough time with Ominis to begin to suspect anything.

Until her.

He had to go and let that blasted girl worm her way into his life, not leaving him alone ever, always looking for excuses to talk and ask his opinion, and being so intelligent that he wanted to invite her to study with him and talk with him and…

Since it happened a few nights ago, he hasn’t stopped cursing himself for that stupid offhand comment he made. They had been studying in silence in the library together, by the history books where nobody else ever ventures (thank you, Professor Binns), and he could have sworn that she asked him if he was finally going to walk her back to her common room (he blames a lack of sleep and wishful thinking for this mishap). His traitorous face had flushed and he had jumped at the chance to escort her - maybe she would let him carry her bag, or… - only to feel his whole body go cold and his stomach drop when her response wasn’t what he’d expected.

A pause: then: a confused voice: ‘Ominis, I didn’t say anything.’

His Gryffindor wasn’t stupid like Gryffindors were normally wont to be. He knew her, and he knew that after his monumental mistake, the gears in her brain were turning and he was terrified that somehow she had figured it out.

(His Gryffindor?)

She had been unusually quiet around him since then, although he bitterly noticed that she was still acting normally with everyone else. Still finding every opportunity to punch Sebastian in the shoulder and laugh with Anne, still whispering with Natsai about Merlin knows what, still…

But she had been avoiding Ominis. He couldn’t stand it.

Well, avoiding him right until this stupid class, when she had to go and sit right next to him (ignoring the fact that she always sits next to him in History of Magic, that everyone already has and adheres to their unofficial seats), and he can’t ignore her.

She’s pretending to take studious notes, but he knows better. The scratching of her quill blending with the droning of Professor Binns’ voice but not drowning out her thoughts. They float above the other noises, her voice sweet and piercing. Ominis wonders vaguely what she’s actually writing, because he’s positive it isn’t notes.

Professor Binns looks so sexy right now with his medieval hat, talking about…whatever it is he’s passionate about. I wonder if he would let me talk to him after class without floating through me like he normally does…

Ominis is determined not to react. She’s obviously trying to bait him. But…what if she is attracted to Professor Binns? Is he an attractive man? At the thought, the fist that’s resting on top of his desk clenches, but he works to make sure his face remains impassive. Apart from a twitch of his lips, he thinks he’s been quite successful.

She: huffing and shifting in her chair, her robes rustling as she crosses her legs. He: keeping his head facing forward, steadfastly ignoring her.

She changes tactics.

Maybe she’s just as insufferable as the other Gryffindors, after all.

I wonder what Ominis would say if he knew I woke up moaning today after a dream about him -

He shifts slightly in his seat, hoping that she’s so busy taking notes (who’s he kidding) that she won’t notice his discomfort as his trousers tighten -

…the girls in my dorm have been bothering me nonstop about who I’ve been mooning over but I don’t want them to…

His hand is in such a tight fist it’s a wonder he’s not breaking any fingers as he tries to remain as still as possible, but his traitorous arousal is making her thoughts harder and harder to ignore. Had he ever been able to ignore her?

…his tongue was deep inside me as I screamed his name…

He feels his face heat up at the thought - where had she learned such vulgar language? - and his whole body stiffens. He’s sure that she can feel the tension and warmth radiating off of him in waves but that…she…his insane little lion keeps shouting at him in the silence of the classroom. She’s now stopped all pretense of taking notes and is sitting stock still.

…his cock deep inside of me as…wait…what else did I hear Garreth say to Leander that night?���um… She shifts uncomfortably, her knee grazing Ominis’s as she moves to squeeze her legs together. It’s all he can do to not groan and remain impassive. Oh god…I…what’s that feeling? This was just supposed to get back at him for probably - maybe - reading my thoughts and I’m officially insane because how would he even be able to do that?…his ears turning red from embarrassment are so adorable and I can’t stand this anymore and…

Ominis tries his hardest not to move his head in her direction. His jaw flexes. Maybe he can drown her out if he starts reciting potions ingredients, or if he focuses on what Professor Binns is saying, but even he knows its futile. He’s hanging on to her every word - thought? - and his head slowly turns in her direction as she keeps going.

…does he know how much I think about him? Oh god, what if he dreams of me the same way I…

He slams the open book in front of him shut, the loud noise causing Sebastian to jerk awake and babble incoherently for a moment before slumping back over his desk, drooling and snoring lightly. Nobody else in the class seems to notice except her of course. Blissfully, she has stopped talking - thinking - and he can finally -

It’s no use. He needs to get out of there. She has invaded his mind and…What if she starts up again with her filthy thoughts that are bleeding into his own and -

Did he hear me? I didn’t actually think…oh god, can he hear me now? What have I done?

Ominis very slowly brings his hand over to where he knows hers is. The quill falls out of her hand and he hears a sharp intake of breath at their contact. His fingers trace her knuckles and then he slowly trails them up her arm. His fingertips are so sensitive that he could swear that he feels every thread that he passes, her skin warm and alive underneath the fabric. Then to her neck, her throat bobs and he feels her erratic heartbeat. Finally, he reaches her face. She remains very, very still as his fingers brush over her features for the first time.

He has never touched someone like this before.

Her skin is like velvet, soft everywhere he touches. Now that he knows what it feels like he’s not sure he can go back to before. His fingers trace the curve of her eyebrows - he finds that her nose is straight before it flares up a tiny bit at the tip - his fingers ghost over her impossibly soft lips. He drags his thumb across her bottom lip as her tongue darts out to wet them. It’s impossibly intimate and the world has melted away and it’s just the two of them in that moment.

He leans forward.

“Ominis, I…” she whispers, stricken.

His hand moves to tuck some of her loose hair away from her face - does she always wear it like this? - and his lips brush against her ear. He inhales deeply, her sweet smell invading his senses. She shivers under his touch and he breathes, “I heard everything.”

[kindahoping4forever]

London Night 2 seems like a normal and chill time

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

G1 Warpath

[artzybumpkin]

I Need Your Help...

CW/ mpreg, language, slight angst

Pt. 1

St@nley heard the nauseating sizzle before the pain registered, radiating white hot agony from where the back of his right shoulder made contact with the metallic mass he was pressed against. A tortured scream tore itself from his throat as he tried to wriggle himself away from the hot steel. He crumbled to a heap on the floor, eyes squeezed shut as he gripped his shoulder.

"St@nley!!" F0rd's voice rang as he scrambled up to his feet, a mortified expression plastered to his face as he rushed to his brother, book in hand.

It all happened so fast…

One moment Stanf0rd was explaining the basics of his plan: to take his journal and take it far, FAR away, where it could never be stumbled upon again… and in the next, he ended up tackling his brother to get it back when the latter threatened to burn the damn thing. It turned into a violent game of keep-away, with them pushing and shoving and cursing each other as they each tried to pry it from one another's grasp. The tussle lasted several minutes… and ultimately led him to unintentionally slamming his brother up against the blazing surface of one of his machines.

How could it have gone so wrong?

Breathing harshly through his teeth, St@n stiffly managed to sit upright enough to lean his good shoulder on the doorway, his left hand white-knuckling the fabric of his jacket sleeve as he attempted to quell the feverish throbbing. His vision was blurred, his ears were ringing, and he could just barely make out that a figure was approaching him… speaking to him… or maybe at him, but in that moment it only read as static and noise.

He felt like a cornered animal. And with a fresh rush of adrenaline, instinct overcame rationale in a flurry of pain and pure, pent up rage...

F0rd knelt down in front of him, frantically apologizing and trying to assess the damage. "Ohhh my gosh I'm so sorry!! Are you alr-" but his words were abruptly cut off as St@n's fist made blunt contact with the underside of his chin before he could come any closer, knocking him silly for a brief moment. He stumbled back, dropping the journal, and landed flat on his ass a few feet across from him. He groaned into his hand as it caressed his aching jaw.

"What the HELL is wrong with you??!" St@nley exclaimed scornfully. "Are you CRAZY??!"

"ME??!" came a muffled response before F0rd uncovered his mouth. "You punched me in the FACE!!"

"YOU tackled me to the ground over a goddamn BOOK, you jackass!!" A frustrated, pained sound slipped past St@n's lips. 'Scorched the SHIT outta my shoulder too... fuck!...' he thought bitterly. The pain of the burn was slowly dulling enough to become manageable but was still deafeningly there. "Do you not see how insane that is?? Do you have ANY idea what you could've-... y-you could've..." His face suddenly fell, his complexion somehow paling even more than it already had. Quietly mumbling an inaudible 'Oh no!.,' he shakily fumbled with the zipper of his jacket.

F0rd was about to spat a venomous retort… then all those thoughts vanished as he watched his brother, who's attention was no longer on him at the moment...

Self-consciousness took a back seat as, with a little less effort than he'd like to admit, St@nley all but tore his jacket open... fully revealing the impressively sized bump as he frantically palpated the sides with his free hand. In the heat of the moment, he'd temporarily neglected the fact that he had a passenger on board, and an air of fear and desperation loomed in his eyes as he tried to garner SOME reaction from the babe inside. He couldn't take the possibility of anything happening to them as a result of carelessness on his part. Not after they've stuck with him this long...

After a tense wait, he jumped slightly when he received a harsh yet responsive jab(what was most likely a punch back of annoyance from the little one for disturbing their peace). "Ohhhh you're okay... you're okay..," he breathed, more to convince himself than anyone else, as he let his head fall back against the doorframe.

Meanwhile, F0rd's nerves were steadily building in intensity. Realization hit him with the force of a semi truck, but the shock made it hard to formulate the words that were buzzing in his exhausted brain. How in the world did he not notice until now?!... "St@nley, I... You... Y-You're..?"

St@nley's eyes popped back open, making contact with his brother's... before following his gaze back to his own stomach. He groaned, exasperated. He knew this conversation was coming, he dreaded it the entire drive up here... now the proverbial cat was out of the bag. "Right... um..." He did a half-hearted, one handed mock 'jazz hands' motion. "Surprise, I guess... You're gonna be an uncle."

"Pregnant?!..." came a shrill, horrified whisper.

"Figured that was obvious, poindexter."

"Why didn't you tell me you were PREGNANT??!!"

"Oh I dunno, maybe cuz I thought you were in trouble?? That the message you sent was clearly urgent and you needed HELP??"

Stanf0rd, his head swimming from both the adrenaline rush wearing off as well as the slew of new information he'd just been forced to absorb, promptly flopped to the ground onto his back. He covered his face with his hands, breathing out a rather defeated sound. "I should've never sent that damned postcard..."

St@n huffed. "What? Was I supposed to just NOT come, then?? I didn't haul ass all the way from New Mexico just because! I had to!! You're my freakin' brother, I couldn't leave ya hangin' if I knew you were in trouble!"

"Still..," F0rd let his hands fall from his face and out to his sides. "It was reckless to come all this way when you're in such a..," he fumbled for the right words, " ... condition."

"Do you seriously think I'd skip out on ya over an inconvenience? I'm pregnant, F0rd, not inert."

F0rd opened his mouth as if to respond, but quickly gave up. The pain from where he'd been slugged was starting to made it difficult to speak.

The room went quiet, sans the sounds of machinery blipping, metallic creaking, as well as each of their own attempts to regulate their breathing. They stayed like that for a while, simmering down.

St@nley glanced over to see that the journal, the very thing they were hashing it out over just mere minutes ago, had landed within arms reach of himself. He reached for it, grunting when the movement made his core muscles tense up. He ignored it and and picked the book up. He let go of his shoulder to hold it in both hands, turning it over and inspecting the leather craftsmanship.

Flipping through a few random pages, though the written contents read more or less like Greek to him, it was obvious the sheer amount of love and passion that went into putting the thing together. The time and effort put into the extensive research documented on every single page was astounding. All in his brother's recognizable penmanship…. 'And here I was about to set it on fire..," he thought with a slight pang of guilt.

"What're we doing, Stanf0rd?..," he finally spoke up. "It's not been an hour since I got here and we've already been at each other's throats…"

"Yeah... yeah, no kidding..," F0rd sighed. "We might've lost our heads a bit, there... er, I did..." he admitted, solemnly. "I panicked... reacted rashly..." An apology seemed to hang loosely from his lips, but he didn't quite allow it to slip.

St@nley recognized that but decided not to comment on it. He made an amused sound. This all suddenly felt very familiar. It felt a lot like one of those times when they were just kids, when Ma would not-so-gently encourage them to reconcile after one of their petty skirmishes... skirmishes not unlike that of street cats duking it out over a stolen fish from the boardwalk docks. Seemed it was what Jersey boys did best: Fight. Fight and then make up as if they weren't just about to kick the ever-loving shit out of each other. Oh the nostalgia... Maybe they hadn’t completely changed all that much, after all…

St@n looked back to his brother, who was still sprawled out like a starfish on the floor. A deep sigh rolled from his chest. "Listen..," he started, voice just loud enough to hear over the white noise of the lab, "just so you know, even if there was no emergency... even if there was no rhyme or reason to send for me... I still had every intention to come when you asked me to." He swallowed, hesitating continuing the thought… but pressed on. He needed to say this. "... I wanted to see you, Stanf0rd. I've wanted to for a long, long time..."

F0rd remained quiet, head tilted in his brother's direction, listening.

"I just… after all this time, after all these years, I just thought… maybe you actually wanted to see me again too…"

"..."

"I've missed you, brother…"

F0rd's face softened for a moment, emotions could be seen conflicting behind his eyes. It seemed like he'd wanted so badly to say something... to say anything to clear things up... but right then the appropriate words came up short. He squeezed his eyes shut, steeling himself as he turned back away from St@nley, facing back to the tall ceiling. "You should've stayed home."

And just like that they were plunged back into deafening silence. The gap between them seemed to grow ever so slightly wider once more.

Then, as if on cue (and much to St@horror), an obnoxiously loud but familiar gurgle broke the silence, echoing off the metal bunker walls. His face went beet red as he pressed his hands to his stomach, in a frugal attempt to silence it. "Ah geez…" he mumbled under his breath.

At first it wasn't clear if F0rd had acknowledged the sudden sound or not, as he still laid motionless where he was, but after a moment he let out a soft sigh before limply dragging himself up from the floor, dusting himself off in the process. It was then that he approached his brother... and offered his hand. "Take this to the kitchen?"

From his spot on the floor, St@nley's eyes bounced coldly from F0rd's eyes to his hand before finally accepting the aid. After a quick countdown to 3, and then another as they attempted to get momentum on their side, he was hefted back onto his feet with an unintentional grunt of discomfort. Not only did his shoulder sting like hell, but the already strained muscles in his back knotted up in protest as he stood.

To be honest everything hurt, but he tried not to let it show too much. Instead, he awkwardly shoved his hands back into his pockets.

Er, he attempted to, only to realize in one he still held tight to the leatherback of the journal.

"I didn't come here expecting you to feed me, y'know," he grumbled as he held the book out to his brother, who took it notably less aggressively in comparison to earlier.

"Oh shut up and come eat," F0rd muttered flatly as he passed his brother, meandering lazily towards the elevator. "We'll get a look at that shoulder while we're at it..."

St@n rolled his eyes but diligently followed. His gaze landed on his belly as he walked, where the kid really hadn't stopped moving, obviously still agitated by the rude awakening from earlier. He placed his hand atop the bump just under his ribs, where he could feel what he assumed was their foot. "Your uncle's a real piece of work, kiddo. Remember that."

'But he's family…,' he added mentally to himself, 'Remember that, St@nley...’

TBC

[chandlerkisser69]

Classroom doodles of the kahoot girls…..

Bonus doodles of the kahoot girls from my exam

[sunsetsandsunshine]

AHHH I'm so happy youre back to writing! I felt like the Rottmnt tickle community was dying there.

Been dying for a lee! Mikey Ler! Big bros fic.

~ 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗… ~

❤️💜🐢💙🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝙽𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 ❤️💜🐢💙🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙾𝙷 𝙼𝚈 𝙶𝙾𝚂𝙷, 𝙰𝙽𝙾𝙽 🥲💔⁉️ 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝙱𝚁𝙾𝙺𝙴 𝙼𝚈 𝙷𝙴𝙰𝚁𝚃 𝚆𝙷𝙴𝙽 𝙸 𝙵𝙸𝚁𝚂𝚃 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂??? 𝙰𝚜 𝚕𝚘𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚜 𝙸’𝙼 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚁𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚖𝚗𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚘𝚖 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚆𝙸𝙻𝙻 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚗𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝🩷💝💕˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟸,𝟼𝟹𝟸

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛’s: 𝚁𝚊𝚙𝚑 🐢❤️, 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 🐢💜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 𝚒𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 (𝚘𝚛 𝚒𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚘’𝚜 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚒𝚕𝚊𝚛 𝚕𝚊 𝚋𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚊). 𝙱𝚞𝚝…𝚒𝚝’𝚜 𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚍𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚢 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚝…

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚈'𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚛𝚒𝚕𝚕. 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!) 

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @veryblushyswitch @someone1348 @pocky-dragon

@danineedshelp @jamiesgotchu @saturnzskyzz @savemeafruitjuice

@my-l0v3r-v3rse @mythica0 @titters-and-tingles

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲!!! 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝚃𝙸𝙲𝙺𝙻𝙸𝙽𝙶!!! 

𝚃𝚆: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚒𝚋𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚋𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐/𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐/‘𝚋𝚞𝚕𝚕𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐’ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝙶𝚎𝚗 𝙰𝚕𝚙𝚑𝚊 (😵)!!! 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍 𝚝𝚢𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚊𝚢…𝙸 𝚜𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 😅…

𝙰𝙻𝚂𝙾 𝚆𝙰𝚃𝙲𝙷 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚅𝙸𝙳𝙴𝙾 𝙱𝙴𝙵𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝚁𝙴𝙰𝙳 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙵𝙸𝙲 𝚃𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃 𝙼𝙴 𝙾𝙽 𝚃𝙷𝙸𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙶𝚄𝚈𝚂 𝙸’𝙼 𝙳𝙾𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚈𝙾𝚄 𝙰 𝙵𝙰𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚁

𝚂𝙺𝙸𝙿 𝚃𝙾 𝟶:𝟷𝟿– 𝙸𝚃𝚂 𝙱𝙴𝚃𝚃𝙴𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙳 𝙼𝙾𝚁𝙴 𝙵𝚄𝙽𝙽𝚈 🕺🏾✨ 

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙴𝙽𝙹𝙾𝙾𝙾𝙾𝚈𝚈𝚈𝚈˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

��MOVE YOU’RE HIPS, MIKEY!!!” Donnie yelled at his orange cladded younger brother. 

“I’M TRYING!!!” The box turtle yelled back, “DOES IT LOOK LIKE I’M SHAKIRA?!”

“WELL, YOU’RE HIPS DEFINITELY DO LIE BECAUSE I SEE NO FUCKING MOVEMENT!” The elder yelled in return which earned a loud snort of amusement from Leo in the peanut gallery; the slider enjoying the chaos and banter between Mikey and Donnie. 

It was a nice Saturday evening and the four brother’s spent the day just…casually hanging out, for no exact reason in particular. The brother’s just truly wanted to chill (for today…).

They did karaoke, binged movies, and y’know…just chilled. That’s what Summer was about: relaxation. 

Well…they were relaxed.

Until their nerdy scientist brother found a TikTok video that he quote on quote ‘Had to learn to get with the trendy trends for his likey likes.’

His words, not mine.

And so, he dragged Mikey into it because the dance required about two people (and Donnie wasn’t trying to make it seem like he was lonely). But sadly and not surprisingly, the young scientist has been trying to teach the youngest the choreography for about…3 hours.

3 hours. 

Let that sit with you for a second. Let that marinate. 

And let’s just say…Donnie’s patience wasn’t exactly the best. Especially when it came to dance. Plus, this dance wasn’t even hard! All that was required to do was move your hips and do dramatic hand movements like some stereotypical blonde ordering an overcomplicated Starbucks order!

In conclusion: not hard at all! 

And Donnie knew he wasn’t raised with a piece of cardboard! Mikey knew how to dance…!

…To an extent, anyway…

“It’s not my fault I’m stiff!” The youngest whined which only caused the second oldest to simply scoff, rolling his eyes with sass, “Well it’s gotta be someone’s fault.”

“It’s probably Draxum’s.” The slider suggested. 

“I concur. It is probably Draxum’s fault.” Donnie agreed, “Anyway, stiff or not stiff, I need you to learn how to do this dance.” The box turtle groaned again at the comment, “Why me though? Why can’t you just do it with Leo or something???”

“Me and Leo already learned the dance!” The softshell huffed proudly, “We learned, practiced and recorded it all yesterday.” 

“Twin type shit.” The second youngest added on, sending Donnie finger-guns. 

“Twin type shit.” The purple loving turtle amusedly agreed, not doing the same hand movement but just doing an awkward thumbs up which Leo couldn’t help but giggle to. 

Raph, who was sitting next to Leo on the couch scratched the top of his head a bit, pondering slightly. “Why don’t you try doing a different dance?” The eldest suggested, “Y'know…maybe one that doesn’trequire so much hip movement…?”

“Like The TikTok Rizz Party dance!” Leonardo happily suggested, standing up excitedly which only earned hard glares from all of his brothers. The second youngest rolled his eyes at the looks, putting a hand on his hip, “Oh, don’t look at me like that. You gotta admit: it’s simple to learn.”

“It’s not a dance— it’s a freaking demon ritual.” The snapping turtle deadpanned. 

“Same difference...” Leonardo huffed, sitting back down next to his older brother. Raph sighed impatiently, rubbing his temples like a single Mom that worked two jobs (sorry not sorry for that reference), “I’m too young for all of this bullshit…”

“Raph!” The youngest suddenly wailed, “Aren’t I moving my hips???” Mikey whined impatiently, demonstrating the dance which got a small stifled giggle from Leo. The leader in blue got up, covering his mouth to try and stop himself from laughing as he went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. 

The eldest turtle grimaced, trying to hold back his laughter as well, “You’re…You’re moving something…” 

“He’s moving his fucking chest and shoulders…” Donnie explained, “Which are nowhere near your hips.” 

“Again: The Tik Tok Rizz Party is still an option.” Leonardo happily said as he went back to the lounge area and started to do the quote on quote ‘Tik Tok Rizz Party’ dance. The purple loving teen inwardly cringed as he watched his slightly younger brother’s antics, sighing sadly as he covered his face. 

Of all the individuals he had to be twins with…

“Sit your hyperactive ADHD ass down.” Raph demanded as he grabbed Leo’s shell with his hand, forcing him to sit back down.

“Anyways. Angel, I want you to move with your hips!” The softshell emphasized again, going behind Mikey and squeezing his hips to demonstrate how and when the youngest was supposed to move them (since the box turtle was apparently having an issue separating his chest from his hips).

Y'know, stiff people problems. Something Donnie couldn’t possibly relate to nor understand. 

“EEP-!!!”The youngest suddenly squealed, his face morphing to one of giddy panic, “D-Deehee! Noho stahahap!”

“I am helping you with your atrocious dancing, you buffon! Now stay still!” The second oldest huffed, squeezing the shortest turtle’s hips again. 

“You’re 'helping' tihihickles!” Mikey complained, holding onto his scientist brother’s wrists in a small attempt to stop him. Which didn’t…obviously. But it was worth a shot. An A for effort some might call it. 

Donnie tried to stifle his giggles, raising a confused brow, “Oho, my helping tickles, now does it? How is that even possible, my dear younger brother?” 

“Wahait w-wahahait dohohon’t— *squeal* nahahaha!” Mikey laughed, throwing his head back on Donnie’s shoulder as his knees gave out, trying to retreat unto the floor but his older brother only followed him as he did so.

“Don’t? Don’t what~?” The second oldest turtle asked incocently, scribbling his fingers against the other’s sides. The box turtle curled in on himself on the carpeted floor, kicking his legs back and forth. 

Donnie snickered, “Dude, I’m genuinely asking! What do you mean 'don’t'~?” 

Michelangelo just hugged his middles as he squirmed and screeched, giggling his small little heart out as his older brother tickled him. The young scientist sighed dramatically, sitting on the youngest’s legs as he stopped tickling him for a moment. 

“Hey, guys?” Donatello said as he turned to the red and blue duo sitting on the couch, “I miiiiight need some help over here. I’m feeling ignored by this one— he’s not answering me.” He deadpanned as he jabbed the turtle below him in the side, causing the youngest to sound like a overpowered drill screwdriver fusion. 

“Say less.” Raph grinned, going over to the PB&J duo as Leo quickly followed right behind. 

Okay…well, this hang-out-with-your-brothers-just-because-you-can hangout was turning left veryquickly. Perhaps that’s what Mikey gets due to the fact that he was spinning left and Donnie was spinning right…

Even though the purple banded turtle told him numerous times to turn the other direction, the youngest didn’t feel like listening. I guess he now knows how the second oldest feels when Mikey doesn’t pay attention to his 4 hour yap sessions.

As one smart, tooootally not demented 21 year old said: Karma’s a bitch. 

The box turtle squealed loudly as his other brother’s approached next to him and sat down. The youngest immediately retracted into his shell as panicky giggles from him echoed around the lair. 

The three older brother’s collectively groaned, knowing they’ve alllll danced this dance before. “Ugh…I hate when he does that…” Leo complained dramatically as he crossed his arms across his plastron. Raphael cracked his knuckles, his grin widening, “Don’t worry, boys. I got this.” The red banded turtle put the Mikey in his lap, blowing a raspberry directly on the youngest’s stomach. 

The reaction was almost like the speed of light as the orange banded turtle immediately erupted into loud mouse cackles, trying to wriggle his way out of his older brother’s iron grip although now that he was caught in the lion’s den…his attempts of escaping were now futile.  

“WHAHA— *squeak*?! NAHAHA?!?! *Squeak* RAPH RAPH RAHAHAPH!!!” Michelangelo giggly sputtered out, his laugh raising a pitch as Raphael refused to take any breath’s on the raspberry and just continued and continued. 

And Mikey knew Raph. For heaven’s sakes, that was his brother. The paint loving turtle knew (definitely NOT from experience) that Raph would not take a break unless the orange banded got out of his shell. 

“WHYHYHYHY???” The orange banded turtle cackled, his limbs and head coming out of his shell as he tried to glare at his brothers, which they all couldn’t help but awe to. “Awe, there you are~! Now this is definitely a fair fight!” The gentle giant happily exclaimed, removing his head from Mikey’s stomach. 

“ThIHIs ihis ahan ahamBUHUSH!!!” 

“Same difference.” Leo shrugged, squeezing the box turtle’s ankles repeatedly. “NAHAT THEHE FEEHEEHEET!!!” The orange banded turtle cried, kicking his legs around to try and make Leo dislodge his grip on his ankle. “Jeeheez…I didn’t eheven doohoo anything yehet!” The slider commented smugly.

“Guess it tickles that bad, huh, Mikester~?” The blue banded turtle teased. 

“BEEHEE QUIHIHIET YOHOU AHAHASS!!!”

Leo dramatically gasped at the rebuttal, gently pulling his little brother’s toes back and scribbling his fingers all over his arch. “That is no way to talk to your beloved older brother!” The slider lightly scolded. Donnie, who was next to Mikey nodded in agreement, his fingers pinching all over his littlest brother’s ribs, “I think someone needs to be taught a lesson…” 

“NOHOHAHAH! IHI DAHA— *squeak* DOHOHON’T!!!” The box turtle protested, swatting his hands on Raph’s arm like a drunk jellyfish. “And hitting too?!” The blue banded teen announced, “Your reeeeallyasking for it…” 

Raphael raised a hand, wiggling his fingers near Mikey’s neck. The turtle in question paled, “NAHAT THEHE NEHEHECK!!! YOHOU GUHUYS IHI ACTUALLY CAHAN’T DOOHOO THIHIHIS PLEHEHEASE—“

“Your neck? Oh, what a great idea!” Donnie smiled sweetly, one of his hands dancing around the right side of the fake dancer’s neck as Raph dipped his head in the other side. “IIIII…gitchie gitchie gotchu~!” The gentle-giant teased, rubbing his face back and forth in the crook of the youngest’s neck. 

Mikey let out the most inhuman screech to ever exist in between his cackles, shaking his head and scrunching his shoulders desperately, “LEHEHET MEEHEE GOHOHAHAHA!!!” He squeaked. 

“WHYHYHY MEEHEEHEE?!?!” The box turtle whined despreatley through his laughs, unable to do anything but just lay in Raph’s lap and just take the tickles at this point in time. 

Speaking of, WHY was he getting tickled by his big brothers in the first place again??? What the hell did he even DO to deserve this torment? They all just basicslly jumped him as if he had money on him or something!!!

And for the record: Mikey in fact did not. This time at least. 

He borrowed some cash from April last week but immediately put it inside of his piggy bank the second he got home. Since he knew either one of his greedy grubby hand brother’s would snatch that cash cash money cash cash right away…

But…wait.

What was Mikey pondering about again???

“Because you’re the youngest.”The blue loving teen simply said, “Aaaaand we just gotta tickle the heck out of you ‘cuz you’re just so cute~!” Leo cooed playfully, his hands squeezing and prodding at Mikey’s knees. 

“Not too much now, Leo. You’re a baby brother too.” Donnie commented smugly. “By two seconds!!!” The blue banded turtle pouted, glaring at the soft-shell. The soft-shell in question chuckled at the angry face expression, kneading Mikey’s hips mercilessly. “Two seconds that makes you the second youngest. And a baby brother.” He taunted, grinning at the annoyed look that his younger twin was giving him. 

“What are you guys going on about? You’re all baby brothers.” Raph exclaimed.

“So are you!” Leo huffed, “April exists, y’know!”

“GUHUHUHUYS!!!” The youngest screamed, trying to get his siblings attention as they bickered. “Hm? What’s wrong, little bro? Did the Tickle Monster find a bad spot~?” Raph asked, now blowing raspberries at the orange banded turtle’s neck. 

“YOHOU— *squeal* FAHACK!!! GOHOH AWAHAHAY!!!” The box turtle screamed. Leo rolled his eyes fondly, scoffing lightly, “You love this so don’t even, Miguel.” 

“Why should we go away~?” The eldest fake pouted, tickling Mikey under his chin lightly, “Is this a bad spot~? Is that why? Yeah~? Awe, what a shame…” 

“PLEHEHEASE BEEHEE QUIHIHI— *squeak*!!!” The youngest bellowed, “STAHAHA— STAHA—!!! PLEHEHEASE AHANHTHING BUHUHUT THAHAHAT!!!”Mikey purely went into silent cackles, happy tears falling down his face as tiny mouse squeaks followed. “IHIHI *squeal* SURRENDER!! GUHUYS PLEHEHEASE *squeal* I’M *squeal* GOHOHONNA DIHIHIE!!!”

The three brother’s removed their tickling hands, ceasing their attack as the youngest wheezed out remaining laughs breathlessly, “Ihi cahan’t breeheeathe…”

“Considering the fact that you are talking right now (which requires you to breathe), I think you’ll be fine.” Donnie commented, handing Mikey a glass of water which the youngest basically snatched and chugged in 2 seconds flat.

Freaking heathen…

“Did we go too far?” Leo dramatically gasped, going over and taking the orange banded teen from the eldest’s lap, squeezing Mikey in a hug and looking him over like he was a random exotic species specimen. “You're not dead...right? Oh man, Dad will literally kill me if I accidentally killed you…wait. That would make me the youngest. Oh well, I never wanted a younger brother anyway...”

“Hey hehey hehehey! Slow your freaking role! Ihi aham nohot dead!” The box turtle giggled, raising a brow at his immediate older brother’s antics. The slider sighed mockingly, “Had all my hopes up for nothing…” 

The smallest turtle rolled his eyes at the comment before having a moment of realization, “Whahat were weehee eheven doing agahain…?” Mikey giggly asked, resting his head against Leo’s shoulder as the slider rubbed his carapace. “Teaching you to dance.” Donnie sighed sadly, “But, alas, some things were just not meant to be.” 

Mikey glared playfully before landing his eyes on his scientist brother’s phone that was leaning up on one of the tables. “Dee! You were recording???” The box turtle screeched, hiding his face in his shell as the others laughed. “Don records everything, little bro. With or without his phone. So either way you were gonna end up being recorded.” Raph explained teasingly. 

“You never know, Mikejandro, maybe you’ll blow up on Tik Tok!” Leo suggested, “I’d call it: The Disgruntled Demise of a Box Turtle.” 

“Talk about word vomit…” The scientist mumbled under his breath, going to where his phone stood as his siblings bickered in the background. The soft-shell replayed some of the footage as he muted the video, smiling softly (get it? Soft-shell, smiling softly? I’m so funny you guys…) at the shenanigans that unfolded not too long ago. 

The second oldest chuckled softly (still get it?) to himself, putting his phone in his sweatshirt pocket as he went back to where his brother’s were sitting. 

“…Do you guys think I can fit 5 s’mores in my mouth?” Mikey suddenly asked. 

“Michael…please don’t do that. You could choke.” Donnie shuddered.

“Plus, you’re being a coward.” Leo added, “Try 10.” 

“I think 15 is better.” Raph grinned, “But it’s okay if you can’t do it. No one could ever beat Raph’s 25 s’mores record...” The red banded teen huffed out proudly. 

“…it’s ‘cuz you’re fucking rotund, man. No one would or could beat you even if we hired a whole football team to go up against you.” The art loving teen said. 

Raphael blinked confused, “Ro-tuh-wha—?” 

“He’s calling you fat.” Donnie giggly explained. 

Raph’s jaw comically opened wide in awe, hitting his littlest brother’s shoulder, “RAPH IS NOT FAT!!!” He shouted defensively. 

“Whatever you say, Jupiter…” Mikey retorted almost immediately as the twins completely lost it, the three smaller turtles soon descending into loud contagious cackles. The red banded turtle crossed his arms, glaring at them profusely, “You all are my 13th reason…” The eldest grumbled miserably, despite the soft small smile clearly evident on his face. 

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

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

[raapija]

I'm-

The grays-

[onifanss]

Paint me~

[aviewtoakillmp3]

[lovereadandwrite]

Nikolai during every DoA meeting🙂✨

[myokk]

Poppy + unicorn😇