Random Turtle Thoughts

Strife

Personal project for the most talented

@imagine-darksiders

(if y’all like to read the most wholesome and thought provoking stories PLEASE for the love of pizza, I HIGHLY recommend reading her stuff)

I hope I did him justice because I honestly believe that we would be the best of friends. Very much would like to give him a hug 🫂🧡

Jayus’ Jammie Jams

Hcuehdhsixbhcuwbfhwkdbfjek *sounds of incomprehensible vibing fangirl* The lyrics, just like THE turtle, speak for its SELF, and honey I am ✨Viiiiiiiibing✨

*dramatic snap* Listen to it, darling 😎😘✌🏼🩵

Do you ever just fangirl so hard that your blood sugar goes low? No? Must be a me thing 😅

Anyhoo, like… whoooohOoOhOoOoo

NOW THATS A BATTLE LADIES ‘N GENTLEMEN!

I just love Replica Leo so much. His poise and his “so done” attitude while still being the most incredibly classy leader ever. Ugh I am in awe of his character.

Oneion also had my most mad respect like, he’s doing it for One’s own good. He knows it hard and it’s gonna hurt but Oneion just gives me biggest “tough love” kinda vibes ever and I’m here for it. Hemayevenbemynextattempttodrawprojectwhoknows

TMNT AU BATTLE PART 1 HERE FIRST (file was getting too big so starting a Part 2)

First off I want to thank everyone who participated in the vote for The TMNT AU Competition! It was so fun to be a part of this event and I’m so honored to be able to go home with Empyrean Weeping’s @cupcakeslushie as the champions! It has been an absolute blast getting to interact and draw with so many of you! Also thank you @dianagj-art @intotheelliwoods and @tizeline for being such amazing finalists!

We might do a few more updates to wrap this up then it’s back to work on Replica for me haha.

Also note: One is fine, he’s just in an arm lock, which is painful in the moment but should leave no lasting damage. Replica Leo however is in immense pain after doing an emergency disconnect from his prosthetic. All those raw nerve endings in his arm are probably screaming at him right now. Luckily he knows how to handle pain… though he’s obviously a little more short with One now haha.

*vibrates at the frequency that could shatter glass*

yOu haVe No IdEa HoW mUcH tHiS mEaNs tO Me

Leo being an angry protective is everything

🥺🫢💜💙

wippppp I will do it clearly later it's jussst aAAaaaaq[osoao *morning screaming* Okay, I did cry at Raph and Mikey's reunion, I repeat, I will die at twins reunion I MEAN YES I KNOW YOU'VE READ IT That Donnie's holding Leo in a mug and don't let anyone else hold it for one particular reason This one is like one big "I'll beat out all your bad thoughts, you won't stay here, no more bad dreams" AAA{{{{SPPSWP I just more and more understand how this song fits for them both: Donnie blames himself that he wasn't enough, he didn't do enough, "he gave them hell"; but Leo "gave them hell" because Donnie was more than any of them could wish of

Computer Leo!!!

The legend herself folks 🤌🏼🙌🏼

@luckycharms1701 @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @definitely-canon @writinandcrying

@donniesgirlie @gornackeaterofworlds @thelaundrybitch @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo

@the-cauldron-witch @redsrooftopprincess @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @ninnosaurus @tmnt-tychou

@thepinkpanther83 @akari180 @milykins @citruswriter @jenuinely-speaking

@androidships007 @chicchanmooshy @peachesdabunny @msjadamatthews @ahhhhhhhhhfuck

He needs this. I think honestly we all do 🥺💙💔❤️‍🩹🙌🏼

I am not immune to Future!Leo angst.

Scrumdiddlyumptious, my good woman, as always

*pokes head into your inbox and waves*

Howdy Hon!

Last night was kind of an adventure wasn’t it, and I hope that you’re doing ok. I wish I had words that could make this better, but all that’s coming to mind is an internet bear hug and the words of my all time favorite redhead “There’s some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it’s worth fighting for.”

Thanks for being someone who fights for the good and is a light while doing it 😊🧡🫂

Speaking of words, I was also wondering if I might try my hand at a request? I was thinking specifically for Rise Raph or Leo but I’m always down for artistic free rein so do where ever the creativity flows.

But AnYhOo, I was wondering how the boys would respond to a friend who was confident in their love language of words of affirmation? Like without thinking, drops the most heartfelt and specific compliments or “I’m grateful I have you in my life” kind of stuff at the drop of a hat? I think it would be funny since unfortunately the boys are very under appreciated verbally to meet someone who was fully confident in their ability to affirm people with their words and mean it.

Does that make any sense?😅 If you can’t tell I ramble a bit, but all I want to do is tell my boys why I believe in them, help them see all the good they do, and be their biggest supporter. They deserve nothing but goodness and overwhelming love and by golly, I will give it to them any way I can or my name isn’t aggressive affection 😆👊🏼🧡

Sooooo uh yeah…thank you for your time and no pressure if this request doesn’t float your boat. Keep being fabulous ✨🧡

Considering everything that has already come to light concerning the "election", yes. I am not happy and I will let it be known on the freaking rooftops. For reference, I come from a family of nationalists where I'm from, with my biological mother being one of the prime supporters and I... will fully admit that I staunchly disapprove of it. Being proud of your country's accomplishments is one thing. Using it to degrade other people who felt like they had no other choice but to flee? No. Hell no. You do not step on other people and cheat because you think your cause is right. So, as I said, fuck the government. I will continue being myself and not be the baby-making machine this nation wants me to be.

... Sorry for that. If you tend to ramble, I tend to get heated whenever discussing people's rights. ANYWAY.

I was wondering how to go about this request and I think this might be better as a headcanon segment. If someone would like me to elaborate on any of them later on or provide proof as to what I'm advancing, you are more than welcome to ask, but for now, here goes nothing. Warning, I'm going to go about this in a weird order, but it'll make sense after they're all there.

So! First things first!

How the Rise Boys Would React to Words of Affirmation.

Michelangelo Hamato

As someone who dishes out compliments himself, Mikey would be the one to blink at you, chuckle, and blush a little, at least if it was something concerning him directly, like saying you're grateful he exists or his artwork since it isn't something he gets this often for. His cooking and clothing choices though would get parading and maybe a little peacocking because of his genuine confidence in those skills, you would need to push a little harder to get him silent and shy.

Either way, expect him to bounce back and throw some compliments your way real quick. Why? 'Cause it's his love language as well! Hell, expect him to turn it into a competition because he will not be outdone. No sir. And if you end up looking like a tomato by the end of it? Well... you started it, didn't you?

Donatello Hamato

Hope he doesn't have anything in his hands or it will be dropped. Doesn't matter where the words go with his boy, if he so much as recognizes the honesty, and he will, he will go silent and stare at you like you've grown another head. Not because you've hurt him, but because he doesn't understand. Spontaneity and genuineness, at least when it comes to words, is Mikey's thing. You are a stranger to his family and you're not only complimenting him but being genuine about it? Does not compute.

He will adapt, though, and at first, he might ask about what you think of his work. It'll be cautious and he will absolutely downplay it, but he will start fishing for compliments while enjoying your presence. And if you show interest in any of his special interests? Consider yourself his best friend. He will bug you at impossible hours before waiting for you to wake up so you can both talk.

Raphael Hamato

The big guy, the oldest, the one who had to raise this merry band of idiots. I don't think he would drop anything, but he would blink at you and look behind himself several times before he even acknowledges that you're talking to him. From there, expect him to blush and hesitate. He's not used to compliments, poor guy, and even less when they're spoken with honesty and kindness.

Surprisingly, though, I think it would calm him. Reassure him. He doesn't hear often or from anyone that he's doing or has done a great job, so, for a moment, it would silence his brain. He wouldn't bug you as often as Donnie would, but if ever he had a big decision to make, he might either ask for input or just want to make sure he took the right one.

Leonardo Hamato

... Eugh, boy. Where do I start with this guy? With the Face Man, the one who's used to lying, the one who nearly took out the planet on accident because he wanted to show off his skill? The initial reaction would be a simple one, use your words and embellish them. Make them more grandiose. Build himself up as high as possible. If it makes you laugh? Great! If it upsets you? Well, you're the one who said something so you only have yourself to blame.

Eventually, though, he would fall quiet. He would listen and ask you if you mean it. Saying you do will get you more silence and little else. He might even walk away. Why? He's waiting for the other shoe to drop. He's waiting for you to get angry at him. Change your mind. Everyone does. So why wouldn't you?

taglist:

@silverwatergalaxy, @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos, @thelaundrybitch, @luckycharms1701, @thepinkpanther83

@avery73, @the-cauldron-witch, @redsrooftopprincess, @iridescentflamingo, @ninnosaurus

@milykins, @yorshie, @justalotoffanfiction, @truffle-reblogs

Memory

RaphaelxReader

Warnings: Amnesia, Angst

(this is so tropey and self indulgent that I was almost too embarrassed to post it, thank you @the-cauldron-witch for giving me the stones. Apologies in advance. 😅)

"What are you to me?"

You freeze, your pen stopping mid-letter. For the last week you'd been trying to figure out how to answer if he asked, and you were still at a loss. 

Don't think for him, Donnie'd said, the memories are there, he just has to form the connections. They'll be stronger, and this will go faster, if you let him do that on his own.

He knows he shouldn't be asking, but every time he looks at you he feels like he's missing something important, and the way you look at him sometimes... he can't bear it. 

"We should, um," you clear your throat, looking very intentionally at the paper in front of you, "we should really focus on this analysis. The more data we can feed Donnie, the sooner he can figure out of there'll be any serious lasting consequences to this." 

"I'm missing three years of my life, I'd say that's pretty serious," he quips, humorlessly. You still haven't looked up at him. Jaw tight, measured breaths the only thing keeping your hand steady. You'd been keeping it together for the last two weeks, you couldn't break now. Least of all in front of him. 

Six hours trapped in a reinforced refrigeration truck. He only survived because of what little body heat you could offer, but you'd both nearly died. You woke a few days later, in the infirmary, your hands still raw and recovering from frostbite, but Raphael... didn't. 

For fifteen days, no one knew if he was going to survive. You didn't sleep. You couldn't eat. You wouldn't leave his side. The number of arguments you and Donatello had about you resting were in the double digits. He might lose his brother, he wasn't going to lose his best friend, too. The only way you agreed was by dragging the couch beside the cot Raphael was laying in.  

When he awoke he couldn't remember much of anything. Slowly, over the course of the next week, memories drifted back like smoke. He remembered his father, his brothers, April, his best friend, Casey, that dumb ass, Vern, but not you. The last three years are still a blur and none of it makes any sense.

He looks at you like a familiar face at the grocery store. Like something is digging at the back of his mind, something important, but he can't quite place you. He looks at you with curiosity, even attraction at times, but the love that you built and fought for, through death and distance, is gone.

You inhale, before the pen begins to move again in your hand. He reaches up and stops it. 

"Y/N..." The familiar feeling of his hand around yours, his thumb gently brushing the hollow of your wrist, makes your chest ache and your eyes fall closed. 

Tears glitter at the seam of your eyelashes, as the words slip free unbidden, barely louder than a whisper, "I miss you..." 

His hand stills, there it is again. That feeling, understanding just outside his reach, he's pulled to you and he doesn't know why. Everything you do affects him, and right now, you're crying, and he would tear the world apart to see you smile again. 

You inhale sharply, pushing yourself to your feet and pulling your hand from his, leaving the pen on the table, "I need to go."

"Y/N, wait," he begs, quickly, standing, "please, I-" 

All of your faculties are being used to keep you in one piece. You don't even have the ability to attempt any kind of excuse. "I'll be back tomorrow night. We can finish the analysis then." You shove your laptop into your bag and zip it closed, slinging it over your shoulder, before you rush out of the lair to echoes of him begging you to stay. 

You barely make it home before you collapse by the couch and weep. Three years. Three years just gone. 

You pull the deep red blanket he made you last winter off the couch and wrap yourself in it, in him, in his scent, because it's the only thing of his you can wrap around you. 

You let yourself cry. Mourn. Since he woke up, you've been shoving everything down and away. 

This is not about you, you'd scolded yourself. 

You'd reminded yourself it must be worse for him. He's probably terrified, losing so much time must be scary as hell. And you'd kept it together. Every time he looked at you with that question in his eyes. Every time he said "hey" and kept walking. Every time he touched you... and let go. 

But you've reached your breaking point

The feeling of his hand on your wrist was so familiar, and you were pulled back into lazy evenings in bed, the sunset painting your skin, as the two of you found any excuse not to get up for work. Comfortable, safe, warm. Things you haven't felt since before all of this started. And it was all too much. 

Violent sobs rip through your body, as your heart rages in your chest. It's not fair. You'd already been through so much. Fought so hard. And, for him... none of it happened. The bone-deep love and connection that had become so vital to both of you, was ripped away, and you were the only one left bleeding. 

You don't notice the soft landing beside the window. 

He just stares at you for a moment. He's overcome with the need to catch you up, hold you to him, and do whatever he has to do to fix it.

"It's important, isn't it," he says finally, quietly, "what I can't remember."

You gasp and stand up, clumsily, hands flying to your eyes and wiping pointlessly at tears as you turn away, "You shouldn't be here." 

"See, I'm not so sure about that." He steps forward slowly, "because..." His eyes fall on a carved wooden rose, and he pauses. A craftsman can always recognize their work. His eyes begin to scan the dimly lit room around him. 

No photographs, but all around him are little things made by his own hands, his favorite books and movies, this place doesn't just feel familiar. It feels like home. His eyes return to yours as he continues his approach.

You fall back against the wall as he advances, "Does Donnie know your here? You really shouldn't be out running around the city by yourself. You're still recovering, it's not... safe." Your breath hitches as your back hits drywall. 

He takes your hand gently, holding it just like before, caressing the inside of your wrist. Your jaw clenches, and your eyes sting. As he invades your personal space, your body reacts on instinct, head tilting up, hand against his chest, and his responds, gripping your waist and pulling you into him, breathing in deeply a scent just on the edge of his memory. 

"That's what I'm missing, isn't it," he asks softly, tears darkening the fabric around his eyes, "that's what this feeling is... love." 

Your heart twists, and you can't breathe. You're trembling with loss and grief and you don't want him to stop. 

"I love you," he says, almost in wonder, holding your gaze. 

It's like a bullet to the chest and all the air rushes out of you. Tears stream freely from your eyes and you draw a shuddering breath. "You don't even know me," you say, and you swear you don't mean for it to come out as bitter as it does.

He flinches, stepping back, but not releasing your hand. The shame and guilt are instantaneous. None of this is his fault. You look down and away, unable to meet his amber eyes, "I- I'm sorry," you manage, "I-"

"You're wrong."

You look up through tears as he steps forward again, pulling you closer. A hand comes up and cups your cheek as the one around your waist tightens, and he looks down at you with an intensity you haven't seen in weeks. 

"I may not know your face, or remember... anything about you, but..." His eyes close and his hand slides into your hair as he dips his head and touches his forehead to yours, "I remember... this," he continues breathlessly, gripping your hair gently, "I remember this feeling... Your skin... against mine. Your scent..." 

It's there. He can feel it. Just beyond his reach. He's been grasping blindly. Needing you and not knowing why, needing to feel you under his hands, against him. 

The hand at your waist slides to your lower back, pulling you closer. "Help me," he pleads, eyes shut tight, all focus trained on you, voice thick with hope and desperation, "please... help me remember." 

Donatello's warnings burn to ash within your memory as his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss. 

It's clumsy at first. Demanding. Desperate. Like a dance he doesn't quite remember the steps to. He holds too tightly, moves too stiffly, but you open to him anyway, and a warm wave of sunlight flows into him. 

He was so cold. He's still so cold. He can't remember the truck but he can remember the cold. Seeping into him slowly. As time dragged on and his body heat waned he'd grown so tired so quickly. He could still feel it. Frost on his edges. He's tried everything. Heated blankets, hot showers, gallons of tea. He's been trying since he woke up, he just can't seem to get warm. 

But where his skin touches yours, it's like holding the sun. 

Your heat floods into him like warm, golden light. Like the dawn. Pouring into the deepest, coldest parts, and filling him completely with that feeling. Love. And there you are, beneath the melt. As vital and familiar as his own heartbeat.

His kiss softens, his hold becomes more sure, familiar. It takes you a moment, but you realize, between kisses, he's whispering, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..." He holds you the way he always has, and he kisses you the way he always has, and soon your crying too hard to kiss him back.

He holds you tight against him, pressing you against his chest, kissing your hair, apologizing over and over as if any of this is his fault. You cling to him desperately, afraid that if you let go it won't be real, that he'll forget you again. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, afraid that you'll be wrong, and you'll look up into his, and you'll find only questions.

His hold tightens and his eyes burn. He's angry. This is unacceptable. Unfair. He got played, and he was supposed to die in that truck. What the Oroku fuckers didn't count on, what they never count on, is you. You'd pressed yourself against him, sharing what little warmth you could. By the time the others found you, both of you were unconscious and hypothermic, but still alive, Raphael's large body wrapped tightly around yours. You'd kept his heart beating. Just like always.

He pulls back and attempts to raise your chin to meet his eyes. You resist. He can smell your fear, feel the pounding of your heart under his fingertips.

He rests his head against the side of yours and speaks your name softly, in the same voice that has pulled you peacefully from sleep a thousand times. Another sob escapes you and you curl into him tightly, before a few moments pass and you unfurl, your eyes raising to meet his. 

The weight of his gaze settles on you and you never thought you could be grateful to see such depths of pain within him, but within the pain was... everything else. From the depths of despair to the heights of ecstasy, every moment of the last three years was a storm inside his eyes.

You can see the naked rage, swirling in the tempest, and it mirrors your own. Those responsible would be dealt with, later. Now, you reach back behind him, and he dips his head to make it easier for you to remove his mask. You toss it aside, and he presses his forehead to yours. You rest your hands on either side of his face, tracing the familiar scars, and you can feel his shuddering exhale. 

"I love you."

"I love you."

"I'm sorry."

"Raphael-"

"I didn't mean to-" His breath catches on a sob, and you pull him tighter against you. Burying his head in your shoulder, he wraps his arms around your waist and breathes deep. If scent is the strongest sense tied to memory, he would bury himself in you. He would never forget again. 

....

I know this isn't how amnesia works, okay??? I KNOW the plot here is swiss cheese!!! but it got stuck in my head and now you have to deal with it too, so there.

...

Tag list

@thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @fyreball66 @ninnosaurus @tmntngl @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @zagreustomb @ramielll @silverwatergalaxy @gornackeaterofworlds @daedric-sorceress @sophiacloud28 @iridescentflamingo @milykins @sacred-holy-light @celeste-clearwater-06 @pheradream-15

Remember Mikey's touching speech in Samurai Tourist?

It's strikes me that it's not just Leo that does this - taking on a role in the family so the others are free to do their own things. I'd argue they all do it.

Donnie almost entirely shoulders the maintenance and security of their lair (though I like to headcanon that the others help out with chores. We see Leo doing some welding in Tale of Master Yoshi, for example). This frees up his brothers to enjoy their hobbies - Mikey to read his comic books and play video games, Raph to tinker with his bike and hang out with Casey, and Leo to read and meditate.

Raph strikes me as the Guard or Shield of the family. Especially on missions, he's the one that watches their backs and keeps them all safe. Which leaves Leo free to focus on the strategy and overall logistics, Don free to let his big brain tick over the science and Intel they need, and Mikey free to bring some levity to the situation so the stress doesn't get on top of them.

And Mikey? I'd argue that Mikey's intentionally the goofball of the family. He's far from oblivious, as the above quote shows. I think he deliberately adopted the persona of the 'clown', in order to make his family smile and relieve the tension that having 3 very intense brothers tends to foster. Mikey's busy being the 'funny one', so his brothers don't become snowed under with their own heavy thoughts and self reflections.