One where everything is too loud, your heart hurts, and the only version of safety you can find is by burying yourself in the dark underneath the weight of your softest blankets?
Your mind is racing, your heart mirroring it like a jackrabbits pace, and you’re struggling to breathe.
Maybe it’s anxiety. Maybe it’s grief. Maybe it’s depressive overwhelm that’s sinking in too deep.
You’re curled on your side, blankets pulled tightly over your head, to the point the fabric is starting to get damp from all the tears that keep leaking down your cheeks.
Sometimes they stream. Other times it’s merely a trickle. Just the mark of heart that’s too full.
Maybe you’re hurt. Maybe you’re scared. Maybe you’re just too tired of it all to even care.
That’s where he finds you.
After sliding open the window, freezing for a moment at feeling the heavy weight in the air as he sees you cocooned away in the dark.
His brow creases under his mask, his hand unconscious clenching with a strength that creaks the window pane.
Pain.
He knows such pain. Or at least a version of it.
It’s not one that ever really leaves; something dark and twisted that coils and festers in your gut. No matter how hard you try, or how good you are, it doesn’t go away.
A kind of heavy that makes it hard to lift your head to meet your reflection because you know the light just isn’t there.
Yeah, he’s familiar with such shadows.
But it was never one he ever wanted to see mirrored in you.
So like the now unintentionally splintered wood of the window frame, digging into the calloused skin of his palm, his heart splinters for you at the knowledge of a bad day just gone wrong.
“Aw, Sweetheart…”
His voice comes low. A little hoarse. The kind of softness that almost hurts coming from someone more quick with fits and fury.
He takes a few tentative steps, the floor creaking beneath his weight, but there’s no edge in him now—just something quiet, sad, maybe even scared that you didn’t call for him.
“You’re not supposed to cry alone like this,” he mutters, a hint of pain coloring his words in the dark.
“Not here. Not anymore.”
He swallows hard, jaw tight with restraint, before exhaling slow through his nose.
You feel the mattress dip behind you a second later. Heavy, but careful. He settles beside you without a word, easing his broad frame into the smallest space possible, like he’s trying not to disturb the fragile gravity around your curled form.
If you don’t move, if you stay buried, he doesn’t force you out. His arm drapes carefully over your side, tentative at first, waiting to see if you flinch or retreat.
When you don’t, when your small breath hitches in your throat but you stay, he exhales like he’s been holding that breath for years.
His head tips forward, the flat bridge of his beak pressing up against the curve of the back of your head and just stays there, breathing with you, slow and sure.
Matching your rhythm when it stutters. Quietly guiding it when it falters until his voice whispers against the folds of blanket.
“I know baby, I know…” he murmurs, voice thick and low, barely more than breath.
“I got you. You don’t gotta be scared of it. It can be heavy. It can hurt, but you’re not gonna drown. Not on my watch. Not while I’m here.”
He shifts again, closer now, his massive arm pulling with the fraction of his mutant strength to press your blanketed spine flush against the weathered keratin of his plastron.
His body curling protectively behind yours in the gentlest imitation of a shell—surrounding, not smothering, forever protecting the fragile parts of a shattered heart.
“You remember when I said I’d hold the pieces?” he mumbles, cheek brushing the edge of the blanket near your ear.
“This is that part. You break, I hold. You hurt, I carry. You don’t gotta hold nothin’ right now but me.”
And then—so soft it’s almost missed—he hums.
Not a tune, exactly. Just a steady vibration in his chest. Something low and familiar and primal. The kind of sound you’d only hear if you were this close. Like a quiet rumble of thunder far off in the distance. Protective. Reassuring.
A promise of change coming.
There’s a tremble in your breath, and he feels it like it’s in his own chest.
“No one’s askin’ you to fix it,” he whispers. “Not tonight. Tonight, you get to rest. I’ll keep it quiet, Baby. I’ll make it go away. Far as I can.”
Then with the tenderness that only comes in the quiet of small moments hidden in such shadows, he tips his head forward a bit more to press a lingering kiss to the back of your head and soft kiss to fabric covering where he guesses is your shoulder.
“Just stay right here with me, yeah? I ain’t leaving. Ain’t leaving you any time soon.”
Special shoutout to my Raph girlies and friends; thought yall might like a little pick me up.
Hewoo Friendo's! Been a bit, but wanted to get in the writing mindset again and share some turtle thunks as I do.
Just some silly little HC's about fun domesticated things to do with your turtle once starting to officially share a space. Check it out:
Rating: Cookies and Cream Milk (16+ please!)
Leo: Meal Prep Planning
No ok listen. It's common knowledge across the fandom, in most iterations, Leo can't cook right? Practically banished from the kitchen with caution tape and daily threats + taunts from his oh so delightful brethren on the rEgUlAr. (He gets it ok? he's a hazard)
This is a VERY difficult piece of humble pie for our dear Fearless to swallow, as he is not perfect in every aspect (surprise surprise) even though he desperately tries to emulate nonetheless.
ESPECIALLY in the aspect of trying to seriously take care of you. How on earth is he supposed to properly provide, preside, and protect if he is not allowed within 5 ft of a toaster?!
Well, Leo would be the most determined partner to say the least. If he can't help provide your daily required intake of consumed nutrients, than he will just have to help you PREPARE them at the very least.
And prepare this turtle do. Man stays up LATE scouring over every single recipe website he can get his hands on. Mom Blogs, Pinterest Boards, Nana's Facebook Pages, University Databases, you name it, he's probably seen it.
Look, he just wants to make sure he can view all his options alright? He is the team strategist for a REASON, thank you very much.
Speaking of strategy, Mr. Helpful Himself will write for you (in his stinkingly perfect calligraphy) a detailed shopping list for each and every of the poor recipes that caught his eye for you this week. (They were screened to make sure you are getting your basic food groups because Leo is a "secret" health nerd. More like Disappointed Dad Biased, but that's besides the point)
This grocery list also includes where to find said item in the store (no he did NOT scout the perimeter beforehand to make sure you had the quickest and safest route what are you talking about?) Not to mention, he also peeked at your budget and highlighted which brands have the best price.
When it actually comes to cooking time, this turtle is your most dedicated sue chef. I'm talking perfectly sharpened knifes ("A dull knife is more dangerous you know"), preset little bowls with all ingredients diced, minced and measured, ready and waiting for you to kick him out, so you can do your thing.
His favorite thing about all of this (besides legit "cooking" up a kitchen battle strategy for you) is putting all the leftovers in little straight containers, for you to use for the rest of the week. I see this OCD turtle loving Snapware (In HIS designated blue of course) and little BentoBoxes. The little click click of the lid just does something for him.
Overall, Leo just likes to be included and knowing that something he did would be beneficial to you💙
Donnie: Painting Walls
Donnie for all of his brains and mastery with tech, I think would be the most darling little painter friend when wanting to help you with a color project.
Turtle wants to be helpful to you so bad, it legitimately causes his brain to crash if he lets him sit with his feels for too long. Which is...why he NEVER lets himself sit with the feels and rather just becomes ANXIOUSLY engaged in trying to help you with all of your projects.
And engaged he becomes! You want to repaint a wall in your living room? Maybe add some cute new decorations or shelving? This Turtle has got his two money making skills at YOUR service (AKA being observant and having a good steady hand)
That delightful attention to detail becomes your greatest boone and bore when Mr. Donatello puts his eye to do something. I'm talking about him pulling out nearly all of his tools to make sure that this project of yours is done most effectively. Measuring tape, painting tape, filling putty, painting mats, paint brushes of every shape and size, paint rollers, paint roller extenders, sanders, screws, bolts, levers, screwdrivers, hammers. Basically you blink, and your living room is suddenly a small Home Depot.
You blink again, and suddenly everything is already off the wall, or out of the box, placed with the utmost precision in perfectly little placed groups (for the moment, just wait for this turtle to get going and get in the zone. The Tinker Zone! OW!)
It might actually take bit to get to said project because Donnie is going to get lost in his head making sure he has everything, and is going about this in the best way. AKA spends a solid 15 minutes trying to figure out the best way to tape off the outlets. Whether or not he should use the filler putty to make the wall level or just sand off the original paint to make sure the new paint sticks well enough, etc etc
And he really is a good helper once both of y'all stop bickering like an old married couple about which of the 5 shades of the one color you requested is going to look best in this lighting.
He's got that steady hand which makes cutting around the edges a breeze (Mikey wishes he had that much control of a brush) and that delightful height which can reach all the high corners you can't get with a ladder.
Speaking of ladders, they are no longer allowed in your household anymore because Donnie once got so distracted looking up and seeing your bum in those tight paint smeared jeans that he accidentally flung paint into his open mouth.
Which resulted in this tree of a turtle startling himself that he all but felled himself backwards. And in doing so...accidentally painted the ceiling as well. It was...bad to say the least. How do you call poison control for a turtle AND tell his medic brother that he may or may not have a concussion due to perceiving thiccness firsthand?
Bottomline (heh pun intended) all that is done with love is done well. And Donnie loves you, and he puts that love into his hands. And puts those hands to work for you. So everything is done well. Even if there is a single infuriating corner on the ceiling that you didn't let him paint over, to stand as a witness of this most infamous painting day.💜
Raph: Bed Shenanigans
Don't look at me like that. It's not what you think or probably what you want I swear.
Listen. It's like this. Raph. Is big. A mountain of a man. A tank of a turtle. Large and in charge in almost every way. And if y'all are at the point of mutual domestication, all that Grande is gonna be coming your way.
And one of those ways is discovering that as delightful as your couch is for movie time cuddles and daily wrestling occurrences, it's not the best place to conk out for the night.
Let's be honest here too. Raph deals with...a LOT. Literal weight of the world on those shoulders. The brunt of it all. You of all people would know that this turtle deserves some softness after it all.
Hence the adventure of bed shopping and decorating begins!
Unfortunately because of the whole "turtle situation" you can't exactly bring Raph with you to the store (as mush as he would NEVER admit loving to do something just normal and mundane with you) but you CAN always bring your findings to Raph.
Cue long nights of you two huddled close while looking at the screen of your phone or computer as y'all playfully bicker about what kind of sheets and pillows and styles Raph would prefer, you excitedly pulling out your samples of the day and letting Raph test the textures of the plethora of fabrics to see if they feel comfy.
Raph has never felt more overwhelmed with all the options and in hopes of trying to appease you said he didn't really think much about that stuff and said whatever made you happy would work just fine. So as a joke for the first time, you brought back bright pink satin sheets with little embroidered flowers. It uno reversed on you because he ended up liking the sheets because they were soft against his scales and kept y'all both cool enough during....the other bedtime activities.
Unfortunately (fortunately?) those sheets didn't last through a single season which led to y'all doing some more intense research on things having durability and LONG lifetime use. Or at the very least. Multiple spares of the same brand.
Turns out y'all both can agree on soft green coloring, plaid if you can believe it (it strokes his man card and you like teasing him for being a lumberjack the way he cuts logs in his sleep) and y'all both enjoy the bamboo cooling sheets. Raph handles your decorative throw pillows as long as he gets to have his massive maroon Minky weighted blanket as the accent piece. It's heavy enough that he uses it as a cuddle net when he's in that mood to never let you go.
And Raph being Raph is almost ALWAYS in a mood. So another fun thing y'all get to "experiment" with is finding which laundry detergent/ fabric softener's work well enough with Raph's scales and shell while not simultaneously murdering his poor oversensitive turtle sznoze. (He'll never admit it, but he likes the simple floral scented soaps. Because it feels clean and fresh in a way that's not tainted by the city. Something still good and alive in this world. Kinda like how he sees you)❤️
Mikey: Dishes Collector
The funny thing about Mikey is that for as much as he eats, he actually doesn't ever really use a lot of dishes. Most of his food has been prepackaged and ready to go because everybody knows this turtle can't still still to save his life. He likes to put the T-O G-O in Hot To Go.
So when the time comes that he actually slows down to settle down enough that you introduce him to the joys of personalizing y'alls kitchen together, Turtle has a BLAST.
He had no idea that there were so many utensils or types of plates! All the brands for all the dishes! Oh and the cups? Mugs? Bottles? TANKARDS? Yeah, hon, might be best to keep him away from the thrift stores because you KNOW he's about to bring back the most horrendous looking thing that barely counts as a cup and fall absolutely in love with it. He uses it for everything and you even though you can't STAND it, it makes him happy so you guess it stays.
Also be warned that because Mikey is not used to having all these cool new dishes, the curious ADHD orange cat in him will want to use all the cool new toys - er- utensils right away to try and figure them out. Even if it means doing so in a rather...unorthodox kind of way.
So don't be TOO alarmed when you catch Mikey trying to sneak away with your new flour pin because he thinks it would make a sick new kind of heavy weight nunchucks if he attached a strong enough chain to it. Or enthusiastically putting in WAY too much flower into your breadmaker because watching it all swirl together is just too fascinating of a siren call to resist.
You probably have a slightly bit more tamed taste, and introduce Mikey into the joys of having matching sets with cute little patterns or designs and learning how to use new dishes CORRECTLY. The artist in him appreciates how it all comes together when you show him how to properly set up a dinner place set and he really gets into setting the table because of it I could see him really getting into duck/chicken themed things or brightly fiesta colored vibes for whatever reason.
Be warned though, once man has picked a theme with you, he is DEDICATED. It literally becomes a game for him to try and find something, ANYTHING that matches your theme in the weirdest and most wholesome of ways.
You end up having to ask Donnie to help install more shelves, to show off you and Mikey's growing assortment of strange kitchen collectables. By the end of the year, it looks more like a strange museum than a kitchen(Don't ask Mikey where he found them. Trust me. You don't wanna know. Just make you you wash it clearly beforehand)
Mikey loves this about you. And despite all of his totally turtley tubular finds, his favorite pride and joy are the two poorly hand-shaped ceramic mugs that y'all made and fired together as a couples date night one time.
Because Mikey has discovered that the best dishes, both literal and the ones you eat, are always then one that you create and share together. 🧡
Tag List (lemme know if I got you all or you'd like to be included) @thelaundrybitch @the-cauldron-witch @raphsmuneca @avery73 @anobodyinabog @definitely-canon @milykins
Raphael always thought that he had a solid grasp on understanding what it meant to live in a world full of noise.
His entire life, his entire world for as long as he could remember, had always been a collection of cacophonies.
From the constant racket of living beneath THE city that never slept or the never ending tumult that came from the reckless and wild life he lived, Raph had forever been surrounded by sound.
If it wasn’t the city, or vigilant violence, any chance of possible silence was shattered by Raph’s brothers.
Leo’s tirelessly tirades, Donnie’s incessant info-dumping and Mikey’s constant chatter.
Call him a grinch or whatever but it was always noise, noise, noise.
And if not his own brother’s, then Raph’s Achilles heel, his very own traitorous heart would betray him. The beat of heated drums that thrummed in his veins. Thoughts of inadequacy, self loathing and all over anger. At the world. At himself.
Such resonance that haunted his every step, his every thought, the entirety of his existence.
Raph, the little Atlas that he was, thought he could bear the weight of it all. His shoulders were certainly wide enough. He was strong enough.
Ohhhh he made very sure that he was strong enough to could carry it all. Even convinced himself that he’d miss the weight of the hubbub if it was gone.
So yeah, he thought he can handle the noise of it all.
Until you.
Oh, until you.
He didn’t know what it was. Just the comfortability of a safe companionship that grew over time? A stubborn seedling of fond affection that he never could seem to unroot in the protected garden of his heart? Or maybe the inevitable weakness of a spring season hinting just around the corner?
Whatever it was, lately whenever you were near, the world went silent and you…
Well, you just…you were loud.
Not necessarily in exact volume, though you did tend to get a bit more passionate in those moments of innocent and genuine excitement.
Those small moments that Raph treasured deep in the recesses of his heart that he would pull out like a picture to glance at on a rainy day.
No, you were loud in the way that everything about you just started to scream for his attention.
It wasn’t unbearable per sé, but it was heavy with a sudden weight that for the first time, Raph didn’t know how to hold. How to handle.
Your smile was a flash bang that had him reeling every time you shot it in his direction. Completely blinded by the fact something as soft and delicate could ever be graced upon such a creature as himself.
It made his face hurt in his attempts to strangle back the ferocity of desire to smile, really smile the way he wanted to, right back at you.
With you, his heart cried out.
Your sweet scent was a siren song in a key that beckoned to him that caused his soul to ache for the mere whisper of hope, the smallest chance to have the privilege to harmonize with you.
Your presence, just a mere brush or touch of your hand caused the constant state of drumming that was his heart to increase tempo like intense war drums. To the point he could feel it in his pounding in his finger tips as he had to physically restrain himself from unconsciously reaching out to you.
If he ever go the chance to touch you, to hold you the way he wanted to, Raph wondered if he’d finally find the peace and quiet that he so desperately craved.
Would all the noise go away? Or with your body in his hands, your heartbeat dancing in tandem with his, would all the volume of the world, in his head, in his heart, finally make sense?
Would all the sound come together and get lost in the symphony of you?
So that’s why he finds himself he’s sitting alone in his brooding corner. His elbows on his knees and his face in his hands, his breath heavy and labored with the weight of trying to hold the weight of…well…everything back.
Your visage branded to the back of his eyelids and your voice echoing in his memory like an unfair vision of the night.
It made Raph feel like slamming his hands over his head and fully retreating into his shell, hoping to finding one dark corner not haunted by you, where he could get the stupid staccato of his heart back into place.
Because he couldn’t look away; he couldn’t look away. He couldn’t stop listening.
And the worst part of it all, was Raphael was scared of the fact that he didn’t know if he could, or even wanted to.
Yeah, Raph thought he could handle the noise.
But he very may well just perish at the thought of being able to one day have the privilege of pulling a sound from you.
*adjusts my sunglasses* It'd be softboi hours folks. Tonight I'm thinking about the Rise Boys and their favorite places to kiss you.
*Cookies and Cream Rating: 16+ please*
Raph 🧸♥️:
•Forehead Kisses. Lingering ones right at the tip of your hairline. It's often because its the only place he can reach without having to shift too far down. Often brushing your hair back, cradling your cheek in the palm of his hand and tilting your head back juuuuust a little to get that perfect angle for a small smooch. The type of kisses that are full of tender promises and small wholesome moments where he just longs to be soft with you.
•Your shoulder. Chaste presses of his lips to your skin to the crook of your neck. This young Atlas knows a little something about carrying the weight of the world and often that weight settles on the shoulders. These type of kisses serve as a reminder that he understands the struggle, the weight and promises that you don't have to carry it all by yourself anymore. A somewhat protective kiss, reminding you that nothing can hurt you when you're this close to him. That he's here for you, he’ll never leave you and will forever have your back.
Donnie 🤔🟪
•Your nose. I really don't see Donnie being really big into kissing. Like think about it. Kissing is literally just the process of swapping saliva. How uNsAnItArY. *shudders* “Just where has your mouth been? Did you even brush your teeth?!” That being said, a quick peck to your nose is a simple way to fulfill the “touch of the day” box without having to get unnecessarily close and personal. There is work still to be done after all. Not to mention the cute little face you make when you go slightly crossed-eyed at his affectionate gesture is somewhat endearing. It is a very understandable reaction after all. He too would go speechless at such attention from a genuis like himself.
•Behind the corner of your jaw. Donnie doesn't like kissing. That being said, if he is going to engage in such an act, he's going to want to do it right. Never mind him looking up the most sensitive parts of the human body to make sure he plants his affection in the most effective locations. Nevermind that at all. Besides, kissing here that little bundle of nerves seems to do the trick most adequately.
Leo✨💠
•Your lips. “My Lady, if the kisses are words, c’mere. I’ma give you a speech.” No. Like seriously. I know Leo is considered the “medical expert” of the family, but the amount of times this turtle has given you some serious mouth-to-mouth should be illegal. In all honesty though, it really does mean something special to him. For this smooth talking turtle who always knows just what to say, it’s a way for him to shut up and learn how to put some action behind those words. For once, he wants to show you that he means what he says. Because for all the silliness, it was never a joke, his feeling for you.
•Your knuckles. Leo is a one-stinking suave gentleman when he wants to be, and he's not going to let you forget it. Not to mention it’s an easy, inconspicuous way to keep you close so long your hand is entertained with his. Not that he worries when you're out of reach or anything. The cute little increase of color right there on your cheeks as he presses a slow kiss to each fingertip and between your knuckles is also a nice touch. Just lets this face man know he's on the right track or whatever.
Mikey🎨🧡
•Your cheeks. This bundle of affection will give you some sugar anytime, anywhere without hesitation. You can not stop it. It is inevitable. He's so close to you all the time anyway that it just seems second nature to have his cheek squished against you somewhere. He also just loves getting close enough to see your eyes. They really are like windows to the soul, and you have a soul he wouldn't mind getting lost while exploring. So it makes sense to decorate those “windows” with some “Angel Kisses” (He does put the angel in MichelANGELo after all) You know. Just while he's close to you like this. Never mind the heat from your cheeks underneath his hands as he tries to hold you still for your daily barrage of affection is comforting to his scared hands. Never mind that at all.
•Your tummy. There is something incredibly magical about the way you giggle shriek as you try to writhe away when he kisses your tummy. It’s the kind of laugh that means you are happy and in the present moment with him and currently the furthest away from something that hurt you. He just wants you happy and hearing that laugh heals something inside his heart. He loves the way your tummy its so squishy underneath his kneading hands and he can't help but bury his face in your soft skin. Be warned you will not escape without some raspberry blown kisses. Mikey ain't letting you leave without being properly adored that is both a threat and a promise.
@definitely-canon Feel free to hate me now as I spam you. With permission 😆🫡
Do you ever think about Leo and how he’s the king of Insomnia?
He knows a little something about what it’s like to be haunted. To have your bones ache with the ghosts of weary exhaustion; a feeling that unfortunately more often than not makes one feel more dead than alive.
He understands the drag of having to pry your eyes open for just another day, plaster on a smile that stopped feeling real years ago and then attempt to go at it with only half energy in your cup.
Leo understands the rolling around feelings of restlessness, like the waves of a dyspeptic ocean, never settling.
Never still enough to ever find peace.
So can you imagine when Leo finds out one way or another (as he so often does, clever turtle that he is) that somehow you are plagued with a similar state of mind?
It may be for various reasons: work, family, life, responsibilities etc etc and despite the variety of it all, he probably would get it more than most.
For despite all the differences, there is a startling amount of connection, a unique relateablilty if you will, between the two of you, that unconsciously draws him close.
It’s because of this connection that his heart just… sinks.
Leo may very well be a swashbuckling charismatic pirate for all these years he’s learned to travail against his insomnia seas.
But you…
You are no such experienced sailor.
The waters of sleep are relentless in their cruelty in their attempt to escape you. And ever in lucks favor, and that being none at all, you are found hopelessly drifting, never to find your own serenity amongst the ever agitated waves.
Perhaps it is that fabled connection that draws Leo close to you tonight, or the fact that you were starting to look like a pale, drawn out tired sail, more than Leo ever cared to see.
He had seen enough ghosts in his own mirrored reflections. Your eyes did not need the weight of such horrors. They were last place he ever wanted to see haunted.
So with actions trickling from his own well of compassion, Leo wordlessly sweeps you up into the cradle of his arms, even despite your indignant squawk something reminiscent of a seagull’s cry.
Not that he minds or even will admit to ever listening to you as he begins to rock you.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And. Forth.
Despite all his bravado, Leo never truly believed he was ever worthy of the title of hero. He would fight everything and everyone, including himself, to prove it to the world, to prove it to you, if he could.
And yet…there was something empowering about the feeling of you in his hold.
The way your eyelashes fluttered slowly shut, the hitches of your breath steadied and the planes of your face smoothed. Leo didn’t feel the need to take on the world, not anymore, not when his whole entire world was now here resting in the security of his arms.
And so, much like a boat resting in the embrace of the calmest waves, Leo rocks you in the simplest of sways, humming the softest of tunes as he holds you close against his plastron.
Silently praying that the beat of his heart would be the siren’s call that would set the rhythm for which you could finally fall asleep.
Back and forth. Back and forth. Back. And. Forth.
…
Do you ever think about Leo and how he’s the king of Insomnia?
Some big life changes are happening, and I was just going through my old stuff and found one of my first digital art pieces that I did back in 2020.
Lil fangirl rant below if you’re interested in little Jayus words from back in the day 😆
“Forgive this little fangirl moment, but I just have to speak about my little hothead here:
My favorite thing about Raph is his fierce and stubborn loyalty.
Both in life and for those he cares about.
Raph may be a total jerk, but at the end of the day, you know he’s going to fight sai and fist for you, and he’ll never stop until you’re safe.
I love what Master Splinter says to Raph in the 2007 movie:
“You bear the weight of the world’s problems on your shoulders, which is an admirable quality when you’re a protector of others. You’re strong, passionate, and loyal to a fault. These are merits of a great leader as well.”
So, I guess my little wisdom for all of you today is to be like Raph: be stubborn and fiercely protect the good things in life, and never stop fighting for the ones you love!❤️🔥💪🏼”
Scenario: You’ve just handed said Rise Aged Up Turtle a tiny baby outfit. Whether your child, a niece, nephew, sibling or just some infant you saved from the streets, just know there is now an itty bitty baby human within your general vicinity you are now taking care of
*Rating: Milk🥛(aka for anybody)*
Raph🧸❤️: Tears. Just. So. Many. Tears.
Makes Niagara Falls look like a trickle. This man is literally loosing it, hand over mouth can’t stop staring at the ridiculously tiny piece of fabric in his hand. It’s barely the size of his fingers.
…Sweet Pizza Supreme in the Sky…
ItS BaReLy ThE sIzE oF hIs FinGeRs.
You find him hunkered down in his room immediately after the news, surrounded by the remains of over a dozen, half started knitting projects, tears still on his face as he tries to fathom the very idea that something can be that small.
He’s been trying to knit the perfect baby blanket, but his anxieties start to take over every time he starts over. He worries the material is gonna itch the baby’s skin. Is the baby gonna suffocate if the stitches are too tight? Will the baby drown in fabric if he makes it too big? Will the baby get too cold if it isn’t big enough? etc etc etc…
You’re gonna have to talk him down a little bit because he’s gonna work himself into a frenzy getting ready for the baby.
Donnie🤔🟪: Just looks at said article of clothing. Looks back up at you, face slightly pinching in confusion, then back at the outfit. Cue a slow curious thumbing of the fabric. Slow blink. Body suddenly freezes. Eyes comically begin to grow wide. (Give him a second, give him a second; he’s computing) Before his head suddenly snaps back up to stare at you and then almost frantically back down at the garment as the realization hits. There’s no outwardly facial reaction, but the tell tale sign is that his hand fumbles for his goggles as suddenly he’s going full inspection mode.
You are more or less not surprised when the article is met with immediate disdain.
Cue Donnie spending hours researching the best materials for baby clothes. They’re going to be 100% organic and made of the softest and most sterile fabrics he can find. And if he can’t find any brands that suit his high class fancy, well he’ll just design a machine to do the job himself. He’s not the founder of Genius Tech for nothing.
This small infant will be associated with HIM of all people and a such deserves nothing but the highest quality. The best of the best for the best. Obviously.
Your child will be the most finely dressed child of the century after being in the hands of Donnie for more than 5 seconds. There will be a fashion show. Period.
Being a baby never looked this good.
Leo✨💠: Realization that slowly unfurls like a blossom in the morning sun.
This turtles face is so bright with excitement when it finally clicks that he literally becomes the sun for like solid minute it’s just that big. However that smile immediately folds into that signature cat smirk that warns of nothing but impending deviousness.
Your child is in trouble, for it now lies in the hands of an evil mastermind, hell bent on causing tomfoolery that will last through out the generations to follow.
He’s always wanted to leave a legacy, and he will seize this moment and milk for all its worth.
All the dad jokes. All of the horrible groan-inducing, eye-rolling, awful puns. All the stupid slapstick, low brow kind of humor are now practically plastered to your child’s clothing. He thinks he’s the funniest person alive and will do everything his power to infect said child with the same vein of humor.
Also, be warned of leaving your child alone with this man, because if left to his devices for too long, you will receive an unfathomable amount of memes and edited baby photos of your child and Leo in hilarious re-enactments scenes.
Mikey🎨🧡: Pretty sure a missile just went off Because the squeal of excitement that erupted from this turtle was the only warning you got, before you were all but tackled in a hug like a rugby player, pretty much burst not only the sound barrier but your ear drums as well.
There! Is! So! Much! Excitement!
It. Can. Not. Be. CoNtAiNeD!!!!
It’s literally oozing out of him and man practically reverts into a child himself as the foundation of curiosity is exploded, and you are all but drowned in a relentlessly loving sea of questions. He wants to know EVERYTHING. All the time! Because he just - he just -he just can’t wait! All this time to prepare for another little bundle of joy!
It jumpstarts his creative spark in a way you have NEVER seen before. He now spends his time religiously spent in three locations: locked in close and glued to your hip, a culinary cabaret in which you are very much the honored guest who just has to taste test his newest recipe (your taste buds have never been this happy) or in his art studio working on just one more thing for the baby.
He’s designed his own baby clothes, painted more than enough scenes for multiple nurseries to be completely filled, and even written a couple of his own baby adventure comic books that he is just dying to read the awaited little one.
He’s beyond ecstatic at the thought that there’s now something tinier than him that he can help take care of and love.
Bottom line: Both you and your baby are about to be welcomed into the arms of the most excited and loving family you will ever have the privilege of knowing.
Just…good luck trying to get their arms off of you. Because they will never and I mean EVER let either one of you go. That is both their threat and their promise!
Shout out to the besties who proofread @anobodyinabog and @saspas-corner 🧡
As well as the ever incredible @avery73 (hope it’s ok to tag you in this, but I just realized that I lowkey based my turtle thunks after reading yours, and I wanted to give you the credit. Thought you might enjoy?)
