Do You Ever Just Fangirl So Hard That Your Blood Sugar Goes Low? No? Must Be A Me Thing 😅

I’m pretty sure Donnie and I would be best friends on the fact of sticks alone, for I too cannot be trusted with a large stick 😆🙌🏼💜

I saw this thread and it resonated with me and this picture that I just had to combine them.

Like fellow purple genius would *dramatic hair flip*

So enjoy my fellow humans! Laugh with me Bwahahahahahaha *relishing evil chuckle*

Um OW?! HELLO?! Excuse me?! What is this?

W H A T is this?!

New animatic drop! Had this lurking in the background for a bit so it was time to finish it.

CREDITS:

SONG: Iscariot - The Vassar Devils

Watch it on YouTube here!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yRYl20TvLnM&ab_channel=GaiaRuggenini

ITS A BABEH!!!!

Toddler Leo (One-Shot request)

I can't remember how exactly this came about anymore, but it's here. I would like to give special thanks to @thelaundrybitch for coming up with the idea and then letting me write it. Beware the diabetes.

One-shot, pure fluff, Rise Leo, set in main timeline (AU?)

You're not sure what to think about when you get the messages. You're even less certain when you call after work and the only thing you get is, "Please get down here right this second" and nothing else. However, the thing that worries you the most isn't the fact that Donatello seems to be ordering you around or the fact that your best friend seems to be panicking. That seems par for the course for the Hamatos. No, what worries you is the lack of messages from a certain someone that makes your heart squeeze.

He's gotten good with his timing. Incredible, in fact. He never asked, but nowadays, it feels like the second you get up for lunch at work, there's a message waiting for you. He bugs you with everything and anything, from memes to heartfelt messages that always manage to make you smile, even giggle sometimes. But there was nothing today. Not even the start of the conversation you have to sadly shoot down because someone thought it was a good idea to occupy your lunch with a meeting.

So, it's with a heavy heart and worry on your mind that you step into the lobby of the Lair.

"LEO! DON'T RUN!"

Only to blink as you hear Raph shout, you barely catch a blue streak zip up the stairs, and you flinch as a weight hits your legs, making you look down.

… Is that…? There's — There's no goddamn way.

You watch as the snapping turtle makes it up the stairs only to sigh when he sees you. He, thankfully, doesn't hesitate to approach you, just holds up his hand in greeting, which you return before watching the hulking man sit and make himself as small as possible before speaking in a tone that can only make you smile.

"Leo, you need to let go."

"No!"

"Leo –"

"NO!"

Although… you can't help but blink at the name and the voice you're hearing.

"Leon?"

And the fact that the blue-covered head finally moves to let you see lime green and red…

"Eya."

…

Oh dear god.

You watch as Leo unglues himself from your leg and brings his arms up. You look at Raph in confusion.

“What happened?”

“Donnie. He’s working on a solution.”

“Is this linked to the Empyrean?”

And the snapping turtle’s acquiescence gets cut off by quiet hiccups, making you look down and feel your heart almost shatter.

His eyes are watery. Leo is trying so very hard not to cry but he wants up. And you can’t…

You kneel and open your arms. The intelligent boy picks up on it immediately and, after a blink, rushes into your arms and settles his head into the crook of your neck as you lift his surprising heavy body off the ground.

“It’s the shell,” Raph explains and you believe it. He’s not particularly pudgy although he seems well-fed, but the weight doesn’t match.

Although, considering how fast he settles down in your arms, you’re not sure you mind. No, you don’t mind at all when you feel a tiny rumble against yourself.

Churring. He’s so damn cute.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He refuses to let go of you.

You want to say that you’re surprised with him refusing to let you help with dinner, but if you’re honest…

“Leon, I gotta help your brother.”

“No!”

“You want to eat late?”

Considering his current age, to not expect him to be glued to you would be wishful thinking. Certainly when the second question gets indignant chirping galore Mikey understands and translates.

You were missing all week. It’s his turn.

Not even two and already acting like a drama queen. You want to be angry but the fact that he insists on both staying on your lap during dinner all while eating on his own is too endearing to get mad at. Not to mention that he does seem to somewhat understand boundaries ‘cause he asks for Raph when you talk about getting ready for bed only to stick to you when you’ve showered and changed.

Little glue pot. Who is still incredibly brotherly as he points you to the Lab and has a chirpy argument with Donnie through the intercom about sleeping.

The fact that the softshell actually comes out is a testament to Leo's persuasion, certainly with how proud he looks in your arms. He, unfortunately, loses much of that pride as you get to his room, and not only does he insist that you sleep with him, but he tries climbing over you several times and complains so loudly every time you move him back to where he was, it catches Raph's attention who, thankfully, explains.

It's something you know Leo has been doing for months, now. Whenever you share the same bed, he insists on having an arm around you or sliding halfway atop you. Either way, it leads to the same thing, you wake up with him holding you tightly in his arm while he covers you with himself. At first, you thought it was out of being touch-starved. Now, after everything you read and him still doing it, you're thinking it's a dominance thing. It's neither. In fact, it's something much simpler.

His shell. Doesn't matter if there's damage, his shell and skin are stronger than yours. And he's protective. Extremely so as he tries again while you're distracted with his brother and you still catch him, leading to him trying to nip your fingers and forcing you to gently hit his beak with a "None of that."

He whines, then, rubbing his head against your hand while his eyes fill with tears. You barely notice Raph leaving as you try to reason with him, eventually boiling it down into the simplest fashion you can while putting his hand against his.

He's usually so much bigger. Leo might not be too much taller than you, but he is surprisingly broad despite how agile he is and his hands engulf yours. You can barely see the color of your skin in the lime-green of his, usually.

Not now. Now, your hand makes his disappear. Your skin is all you can see. And light hiccupping is all you can hear as just how helpless he is sinks into you.

He can't protect you. Not right now. That's your job. Until he's back to normal, you and his brothers have to make sure he's safe, happy, and, above all, loved.

You hold him close. Bring him against your chest before placing a pillow underneath him to make sure he's comfortable as he holds onto you. You listen to him churr as you scratch his head and shell while promising him security and protection. And while you're not sure he completely gets it, you know he's understanding some of it as he holds onto your shirt like a lifeline, leaving you to wonder one thing.

Is this… how he wishes he could behave? Or something close?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Something close. Definitely something close from the fact that he wakes you up in the middle of the night with his screaming and crying and he looks like such a mess as you hold him tight against you. You doubt he wants you to hear the hiccupping he's unable to hold back or that wants you to see him as anything but strong. You doubt he enjoys the fact that he woke you up, no matter how little you care, and promise him that it's fine as you take him to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk. And nothing makes that more obvious than you waking up to an already awake Leo whom you can only smile gently at.

"Hey Leon."

Along with the fact that he immediately nuzzles against your hand as you hold it out.

"Did you sleep?”

A nod.

“After we came back from the kitchen?”

A very hesitant nod.

It's harder to lie, to deflect. Not to mention he's trying to lie to you, something you've had more than a hint of him disliking. However, it does tell you how ingrained the habits are and how soon Leo had to learn that sacrificing himself… could be necessary.

You just hope you know the perfect way to return the favor as you send texts to Mikey and Raph before settling into the bed a little more.

"How about we sleep in, then? I just cleared my day."

From the way his eyes light up at the offer before you find yourself tackled by someone half your size, you'd say you're not doing a bad job of it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You wish you were surprised when it turns partially into show-and-tell. You can only chuckle when Leo races through the room to bring you stuff he babbles and chirps about. And you smile fondly when, eventually, he brings over the book you've gotten him and, after triumphantly stating, "Eya book!" he lies with you to look at the images while you read the text aloud. But it's the way he cuddles against you as you speak that has your heart skipping around. Not to mention that he only snuggles closer when you quiet your voice to a hum and let him settle against your chest, breathing deepening by the second.

You know better than to stop. You might have only raised four-year-olds, but you remember their behavior skirting with this one, certainly after a nightmare or an awful day, and you're not about to leave Leo to suffer to his demons. You already can't let him when he's older, how can you now?

You help him settle a little better as he stretches and tries to snuggle closer, likely looking for warmth. You smile as he sleepily chirps.

“I wuv you, Eya.”

But there’s no helping the blink as you hear him whisper against you. No stopping your racing heart and fond smile as you wrap a protective arm around him, murmuring, “I love you, too, Leon."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You jolt as you hear screaming, shouting and tumbling throughout the lair. You notice the lack of weight against you and hear a very familiar three-letter word accompanied with some surprisingly familiar words as well.

“Leo! Get back here!”

“No!”

And you sigh, almost resigned to the mess you’re about to find as you step out, wondering what trouble the little chaos demon has managed to get himself into.

You blink when all you see are color-coded blurs. The blue one turns the corner so sharply, you wonder if you’re still sleeping until another blur, red one this time, does the same thing, reminding you of where you are. You sigh as you make your way up and blink at the absolute mess the lobby is in, recognizing the spots Leo might have thought he was safe before his brother tried to extricate him out of hiding.

Are you surprised that, upon his return to the lobby, he’s taken to the heights this time? Nope. In fact, you just sigh as Raph shouts at Leo who is absolutely refusing to leave his perch in the bar. It’s not until the little menace tries to get away and knocks a bottle off the shelves that they seem to realize how dangerous this is becoming as your heart nearly stops.

Oh no.

You can hear the crying before it starts. You’re still not ready for the chirps that mix with it as Raph realizes he can’t reach Leo, at least not without breaking the bar. However, the distress you see across that tear-streaked face is enough to make you move, thankfully easing Raphael's worry but not quite working on Leo's nerve, even as you step into the bar, round the shattered bottle, and hold yourself under the slider with open arms.

"It's okay, Leon. Come on."

It takes everything for you to stay calm as he cries louder, holding out his tiny hands towards you. You can't reach him. You're not tall enough. But he can jump down.

"Come on, big guy. Just a jump. I got you."

The distressed chirps make you want to cry. You have to keep smiling, though. You have to keep steady. He needs a rock, and you're the only one who can reach him.

"I gotcha. Te tengo, Leonardo. Jump."

He does. You buckle a little under his weight but hold steady as he hiccups before crying while gripping your shirt like a lifeline. You turn around to an apologetic Raph who gingerly points to what Leon has clasped in his right hand and the fact that the latter immediately lets it go to put his arms around your neck doesn't surprise you in the slightest. What does is the cause of the mess.

"A Lou Jitsu action figure?" you ask as you hand it over to the sighing snapper.

"Got it from Dad's room."

… Oh. You smile, even giggle as you half-rock the hiccupping Leon in your arms.

"Did you want to show it to me?"

Only to chuckle as you feel the faintest hint of a nod against your neck. This little rascal.

"Want me to take him off your hands?" Raph suggests and you shake your head.

"I have —! What… happened here?"

Before you can answer, though, the softshell appears in the lobby holding a vial you only hope is the solution to the mess.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're not surprised when quiet is all that finds you when you slide open the train car door. You almost expect him to pull back the second you lie in the bed next to him, something he does before you put a hand over his.

"You okay?"

However, you're glad when all that finds you instead of the lies he's been spewing as he helped fix the mess he created is silence.

He's not in the mood to lie. Not to you. Yet, he's also not wanting to talk about the past few hours and, honestly, you can't blame him.

"We don't have to –"

"I don't get you."

Although, you're not sure what to make of the remark, blinking at it.

"Leon?"

"I don't understand. I don't… I should have…"

"You didn't."

"Why not?"

"You were a child?"

"Not –"

"If you're about to say excuse, I'm going to get Raph to beat some sense into you. Besides, I raised twins."

He falls quiet, looking unsure. You squeeze his hand, not expecting but still getting one you almost want to laugh at as he brings you in and lays atop you.

Shielding you from the world. Keeping you safe. And, as you feel him freeze over you while you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer, so touch-starved he nearly melts over you when you start scratching his nape and the base of his skull.

The churrs are so incredibly deep, you can feel them reverberate through you. It's beautiful.

 "You'd make a wonderful mother."

It's not as heart-racing as his comment, though, your mind wondering if he means it, if he's thinking about it as he kisses and murmurs against your cheek.

"I love you, estrella mía."

You won't know now, though. Not yet. Patience is key and he needs his sleep.

You lean your head against his as you whisper your reply, "I love you, too, Leon."

Taglist:

@silverwatergalaxy @thegirlwiththeninjaturtletattoos @luckycharms1701 @thepinkpanther83

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

@milykins @yorshie @justalotoffanfiction @truffle-reblogs @adebauchedsloth

*holding this oh so very gently*

“I liked the concept of something unreachable being seen as being very close to you :)”

This hits me harder than it has the right too

fanart for @qoldenskies's caged lungs fic 💥💥

it isn't based on any scene in particular, just my overall interpretation and visualization of things I felt. mostly bad things. but apparently human brains enjoy that. so let's go

I'm gonna ramble now, buckle up

Frankly that's the first personal piece I've drawn in months, and I'm grateful for it. I'm grateful that I was able to feel emotions and wanted to draw something again

I struggle a lot with empathy and understanding of other's feelings and displaying my own but. I hope people will feel something by looking at it, too

I've got inspired by the old tale that we used to read on literature lessons, altho I for the life of me can't remember the name of it, or anything else from the plot for that matter. There were a competition for retrieving the jug from the bottom of the river, where many men tried and failed, as they couldn't reach it. As you can already tell, it was a reflection of the jug that was hanged on a tree all along.

I liked the concept of something unreachable being seen as being very close to you :) hence the whole water situation

generally water is seen as a positive symbol in art but for me it's cold, slippery, you can't see shit in it, misleading and uncomfortable. go figure

and I really like how CL displays yellow as a color with negative connotation while it's classically being the The Most Happy Coded Color Ever.

while I'm at it I wanted to share a song I associate with caged lungs in particular

just let it die!

I would have liked to talk more about how awesome the fic is and how invested I'm in the plot and characters and how noticing details and parallels makes my brain go brrrr but I'm shy and not really eloquent with my words. I hope you will get the idea anyway. I love it <3

& textless version :0

If you spot any symbolism, it's probably there. or not. up to you really. that's how art works. have fun

Ok so like my friend told me that something is considered good because it moves you. Well friends…*deep deep inhale* I’ve been FrIcKeN moved by this entire comic.

Like this is just so rawly human?! And I am literally transported into this world through perspective (Empath skillz is that you?) It hurts in a good way because I literally feel like I’m there and all the characters are so in character?!

I’m just sitting in my car trying to figure out the words to express my awe at this level of skill and talent, but once again words fail me so

@2aceofspades please take my humble keyboard smash to show my appreciation for you blessing my eyes with this today. *clears throat* sudbwudhevwodbdhsixnrjekznfjslsmdbe😭🙌🏼🤧

Y’all please read dis. It’s that good.

Blemished

Stained

Next

💙✨Vincent✨💙

GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS GUYS

EVERYBODY SHUT UP(affectionately) N LOOK!

LOOK AT MY SON IN THE MOST DARLING STYLE

BY THE INCREDIBLY TALENTED and I mean incredibly talented @gooeseyleo!! Please PlEaSe PLEASE go check out their Future Leo story! It’s very delightful and their style is very nommable!

ANYWAY BEHOLD MY BOY

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

Howdy Friends! I updated my "A Little Ninja's Mission" story a wee bit and put it on Archive of our own. Here's the link if you wanna check it out.

bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements

LADIES AND GENTLEMAN SHE’S BACK AT IT AGAIN!

Quick someone call the museum, art has left the building again! 🙌🏼🧡

She’s a boss; she’s a beast

She’s a creator from the east

Turning up the heat

Serving up a feast

Come on RISE fans n eat yo treat!

I forgot to post this here too lol

Bitch he’s stylish 💙🫦✨

Hope y’all will enjoy this one!

🎬Movie: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

🎶 Music: Armani White - Billie Eilish

🎧 Audio: “JuupitR Audio” on YouTube

📱App: VideoStar