That’s terrific.

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That’s terrific.
New addition to the collection
EVERY POSSIBLE VERSION OF LEO IN ONE DRAWING
Okay, I'm back, and you know what? I might be cooking something right now.
My Leo master post if you will
I love hc where Raph takes super good care of his body like a temple, while Donnie is out there testing nuclear on a body that hasn't slept for a week.
5-foot-nothing 2012 Raph has charged in guns a-blazing against Slash and Super Shredder, and he held his own fairly well in both fights.
So realistically, if he had to stand off against either of these two….
I’m not saying he’d win, but I am saying there would be zero hesitation.
First kiss headcanons with TMNT boys? (Separately, hope it makes sense lol)
YAS IT DOES I LOVE IT.
ehem ehem...
FIRST KISS HEADCANONS TMNT BAYVERSE X FEM! READER
Leonardo
Leo’s the slow burn of slow burns. He doesn’t rush a damn thing, especially not something as intimate as this.
He’s been fighting the urge for weeks, but every time your hand brushes his arm or you smile up at him after a mission… the control cracks a little more.
You notice him stealing glances. That stoic face flickers, eyes soft, mouth tense like he’s biting words back.
When you ask, “What is it?” he exhales, the type of sigh that sounds like surrender.
He leans in a little too close, still trying to hold onto his composure. His voice drops “I shouldn’t… but I really want to.”
His hand ghosts over your jaw before he pulls back, testing you, giving you a chance to stop him. You don’t.
The kiss starts feather-light, almost hesitant. Then his discipline dissolves, his other hand slides to the back of your neck, deepening it.
When he finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours, he whispers “You’re going to ruin my focus.”
You smirk, breathless: “Good.”
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Raphael
Raph’s the type to fight his feelings like they’re another enemy to beat. He’s all bark until it’s about you, then suddenly he’s tongue-tied.
The first kiss doesn’t happen soft. It happens loud, after one too many teases, one too many looks.
You’re arguing about something stupid (probably him being reckless again), and he smirks, all cocky “What, ya worried about me or somethin’, sweetheart?” You roll your eyes, shove his shoulder — and he catches your wrist. That’s when the mood shifts.
His grin falters. The heat in his eyes changes — not anger anymore, but something dangerous in a different way.
He steps closer, testing boundaries he knows damn well he’s about to cross.
“You keep lookin’ at me like that, I’m gonna do somethin’ you won’t forget.”
You whisper, “Then do it.”
That’s it.
He kisses you like it’s the last fight he’ll ever win — rough hands, firm grip, but still holding back just enough to not scare you.
When he breaks the kiss, his voice is low “Now you can worry ‘bout me all you want.”
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Donatello
Donnie’s crush on you? Obvious to everyone but him. He overthinks it to the point of paralysis
The first kiss isn’t planned. It’s a glitch in the system.
You wake him gently, brushing his shoulder — and he startles, knocking over a wrench. His face goes red instantly.
You laugh, leaning in to help him, and that’s when you realize how close your faces are. He freezes.
His brain short-circuits: words fail, calculations gone. Just heartbeat and warmth.
You whisper something teasing like, “What, no smart comeback this time?”
He swallows hard, eyes flicking to your lips, then back up.
“I can… think of a few responses.”
Before he loses the nerve, he leans in, soft, uncertain, trembling. The kind of kiss where his hand hesitates halfway before resting on your waist.
It’s shy at first, sweet, but there’s passion simmering under it, the kind that only builds from long, quiet yearning.
When he pulls away, he’s breathless and dazed, mumbling, “I think I just discovered a new law of attraction.”
You grin, “Yeah? You gonna write a paper on it?”
“Only if you’re my co-author”
My poor guy's brain is overheating lmao
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Michelangelo
Mikey’s been flirting since day one, but it’s usually jokes, nicknames, cheeky winks, until this night (oops)
The laughter fades, replaced by this hush where you both realize… something shifted.
He’s looking at you, smile softening, the goofiness melting into something almost tender.
“Y’know, I joke a lot” he says, voice suddenly low “but this right here? Kinda feels like my favorite dream.”
You tilt your head, teasing, “You dream about me often?”
He grins, but there’s a blush creeping up his neck. “Only the good kind, angel.”
Then he moves closer — his hand brushing your hair back, fingers lingering a little too long.
You can feel his breath when he murmurs, “Can I?” (HE IS SO CUTE)
You nod.
The kiss is sweet, but alive, all warmth and smile and heartbeat. He tastes like bubblegum and adrenaline.
Halfway through, he chuckles softly against your lips. “Damn, I’m gonna need a sequel.”
You laugh into the kiss, hand on his chest, feeling it race.