Just Being Jayus - Blog Posts

12. Do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? How do you get around that?

46. What time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?

72. What do you do if a scene gets too serious?

Dang. It’s been so long since I’ve had a legitimate ask in my inbox so I forgot what to do. *does arm wiggle thing* AnYwHiZzLe Perception be upon ye! Let me answer your query’s!

12. (YAY MY FAVORITE NUMBER how did you know?) Ma’am. I say this with all the love in my heart, but I’ve got that ADHD up the wazoo. You try wrangling the 5 chickens that live in my brain into one corner and get them to work together long enough to form consecutive thought. In all seriousness tho, it can be a benefit when I FIXATE on writing ya know? Because I can sit down for like a solid 5 hours and manage to wring out a good 7-10 pages in that time, if I A: Make the time and B: Set my mind to actually doing it. Bullet point lists are my favorite because it keeps my chickens from wandering mentally too far.

46. Uh…Evening/Nighttime usually I think🤔 There’s something about the phrase “sacred night” in the fact that that’s when all the thoughts and feelings have time to compress.

If you want to talk to me though? The earlier in the morning is when the brain juice flows the fastest and as such so does the words from my mouth 😆😅

72. Hmm good question. I guess it depends on your definition of too serious? Because sometimes I think that’s the power in writing, to say what we can’t usually say outloud. And sometimes that means saying the hard things and taking things serious when the rest of the world can be so full of flippancy. So I guess it’s all weighing on your motive and direction overall. Best tip I can give is just to pace yourself and make sure to make a new paragraph at every “new” thing, like view of direction or action, stuff like that.

Thank you so much for the ask! It was fun!🧡🥰

ask game for fanfic writers

do you know how you want the story to end when you start, or are you just stumbling through the figurative wilderness hoping to find a road?

talk about a notable time a narrative or character has looked you dead in the eyes and said “fuck your plan, here’s what we’re actually doing.”

on a scale of 1-10 how much do you enjoy incorporating romance into the average story?

what is the plot bunny you’ve been carrying for the longest? optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven’t written it yet and experience deep existential dread?

have you ever made a playlist about something you were writing as an elaborate means to procrastinate when you could have been actually writing and if yes drop a link, son

do you have any kind of consistent writing schedule or just hoping for the best?

tell us about the plot of the first fanfic you ever wrote

what’s your relationship with constructive criticism and feedback like? do you seek it out? how well do you take it?

in an ideal world where you’re already super successful and published, would you want to see a tv or movie adaptation of your work? why or why not?

at what point in the process do you come up with titles, and how easy or hard is that for you?

what’s something neat you’ve learned while doing research for something you were writing? also, how much do you worry about doing research in general?

do you ever have trouble focusing on writing? how do you get around that? 

talk about a writing experience that has pleasantly surprised you.

what’s your worst writing habit? 

where do you share your writing?

where is your favorite place to write?

what is your favorite line you’ve ever written?

what is your most and least favorite part of writing?

what are some books or authors that influenced your style the most?

what is your favorite trope to write?

pick a writer to co-write a book with and tell us what you’d write about.

describe your writing process from scratch to finish.

how do you deal with writers block?

on average, how much writing do you get done in a day?

what’s your revision or rewriting process like?

do you like to write one-shots or series, and why?

do you share rough drafts or do you wait until it’s all polished? 28. And who do you share them with?

handwritten notes or typed notes?

give us a spoiler for one of your stories.

most inspirational quote you’ve ever read or heard that’s still important to you.

tell us about one of your characters who’s an absolute joy to write

do characters influence your writing style?

do you start with the characters or the plot when writing?

how do you name characters and places?

tell us about a character who’s very different than you who you love a whole lot

do you base your characters of real people or not? If so, tell us about one.

when creating characters, what comes first: appearance, backstory, motivation, personality, something else?

how many stories do you work on at one time?

are you an avid reader?

best piece of feedback you’ve ever gotten.

what is the weirdest story idea you’ve ever had.

describe the aesthetic of a story in 5 words.

how did writing change you?

any writing advice you want to share?

name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

what time are you the most productive when it comes to writing?

what story are you most proud of?

do you reread your own stories?

do you want to be published some day?

do you plan or do you write whatever comes to your mind?

share the synopsis of a story you work on that you haven’t published yet

how many unfinished ideas/stories are you working on at the same time?

when writing, do you have an outline? and do you stick to it?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them?

five years from now, where do you see yourself as a writer?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were reading it?

what is the last thing that a fic made you google when you were writing it?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve read fic?

where is the most dangerous place that you’ve written fic?

what was the first commercial property (book/movie/tv show/etc) that you realized was actually professional fanfiction?

what’s the weirdest reason you’ve ever shipped something?

what’s the best insult you’ve read in a fic?

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve read? 

what is your favourite title for a fic you’ve written? 

when have you felt the most confident in your writing? 

when have you felt the least confident?

how long will you spend on a story or scene before you give up?

how do you write emotional scenes? do you ever feel what the characters feel?

are you very critical of your own writing? how much do you find yourself editing (either during the writing or after the fact)?

how do you balance writing and life? do you ever feel overwhelmed by the amount of writing you have to do?

what do you do if a scene gets too serious?

how do you visualize scenes? do you see it like a movie in your head, or do the words just flow?

are you a planner, pantser, or planster?

do you know how your story ends before you start writing?

what is one essential thing to remember when writing a villain? 

how do you write kissing scenes?

how do you choose where to end a chapter?

are you an over-writer, under-writer, or just-right-er?

do you try to put themes, motifs, messages, morals, etc in your writing? if so, how do you go about it?

if you could go back in time and give your younger self a piece of writing advice specific to you, what would it be?

“proper” punctuation or all lowercase?

less is more or more is more?

said: overused or underused?

what would be on a moodboard for your current wip(s)?

which season best matches the mood of your wip(s)?

does your writing style change depending on the genre you write?

if you could have another author write your wip for you (bc we all dream of this occasionally), who would it be?

sarcastic narrators: entertaining or overdone?

do you notice your own voice in your writing style?

how has your writing style changed over the years?

first, second, or third person?

do you hear other people’s writing styles when they talk?

do you prefer dialogue or description?

do you describe a character’s appearance all right away or in pieces?

romantic/social sideplots: interesting or irritating?

abstract or detailed romance scenes?

what don’t you like about your writing style?

was being a writer a dream of yours when you were little? or did it spring up when your older? or is it just a hobby? 

open question to the writer.

a compiled list of asks for me to reference. they are not my own. just some of my favorite questions i’ve picked out from a couple different lists. feel free to reblog and use too!!

Hope

I’ve always had a strange affinity when it came to birds, for many a times in low moments, birds of all shapes, sizes and colors have come to grant me moments of reprieve in my melancholy.

There’s always a new bird for each season of my life, and it would appear I’ve entered a new season recently if the sudden increase of close encounters with American Robins have had any indication. Being the curious gal that I am, I took a peak at my Ornithography Book to see what possible symbol awaited for me to discover with these birds. Robins, as I found, are known simply to be messengers of hope and new beginnings. I found it somewhat fitting for that to be the message as a dear close friend mentioned that her orchid named after me was also turning a new leaf. New beginnings are all around me I suppose. I found it also interesting that I haven’t picked up a paper book in almost over a year. Something that often caused me some pain as I used to be able to burn through up to 5 novels a week when back in high school. And yet, on this day of bird watching, I had just closed the pages of a 200+ paged book, the second one in two days.

Made me stop and smile, to think that I was healing. I AM healing. It isn’t exactly the same passion at fervor that had held me captive all those years ago, but I’m getting to the point where sunshine and going out doesn’t feel like a chore anymore.

It’s something I yearn after, something to live for.

Looks like the Robins were right.

Hunter

pspsps @pvtpunsart I have something for ju…

OG beautiful art belongs to @pvtpunsart

Song: Saint Mesa’s “Wolf”

Edit done on CapCut

I hAvE nEvEr RePoStEd SoMeThInG sO fAsT iN my LiFe. THE BELOVED BESTIE SPEAKS HER TRUTH! HUZZAH! AND ONCE AGAIN PREACH SISTAH🙌🏼🧡🙌🏼

“But in all honesty I have felt more unnerved and off put by sentences written by male published fantasy authors then I have teenagers and fans writing for fun.”

This whole video is great, especially with talking about the “fanfiction is the fast food of literature” take. But in all honesty I have felt more unnerved and off put by sentences written by male published fantasy authors then I have teenagers and fans writing for fun.

Normal 3

Are you normal or do you mentally write a 5 paged persuasive essay enable to explain one point about a handful of characters in a show you’re into and in doing so, become so passionate about said topic it leaves you triggered like

Rating: Cookies and Cream (16+ please)

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.

✨💙 Vincent 💙✨

just some trial sketches with the bestest boi

special shout out to @anobodyinabog and @sophiacloud28 for giving the inspiration and motivation to get back into sketching again

Normal 2

Sometimes I think I’m normal, but then I go out in public and say something dramatic like this, trying to be funny.

“I eat blue cheese. Which is mold BTW. And I eat blue cheese and enjoy it because it tastes better than spending time with you.”

GUYS GUYS GUYS LOOK! I GET A SWORD!

Heh…I guess that’s because I’m “baaa”d A tumblr 😏😆👉🏼👉🏼

Anyhoo, yall should go check out @sheep-turtles-and-pizza because their art is amazing and very much wholesome. Do it or ima come at you with my sheep sword 😆🐑🥷🏽*excitedly starts waving it around like smol child*

Great thanks to my first supporters

@fauxinsox (aka one of my fav writer, she's a gem!)

@theanonymousninja247 (great supporter since I start my teetles blog!)

@venelona (MY WIFEY! MY STICK! MY BOAT!)

Support me on my Kofi

Because Him’s Alive

Watch the video!! It’s really good stuff! Promise!

Also lil somethin I finally connected this week

Easter comes from the word East, which is the direction that the sun rises from each and every day. Sun rises are often symbols of literal new days. New hopes. Fresh Beginnings. I think it’s a beautiful metaphor that of all the titles we could call this holiday, we ch pose the simple reminder that because the Son did rise, we can all rise again as well. 🌅🌱 Happy Easter Y’all🌱🌅

Please please please remember that God loves you in ways you can’t even imagine and because of Him, you can always change, you can always grow, and are never alone in doing so 🫂🧡🌱

Jayus’ Jammie Jams

This is the most Bayverse Leo song I have on my playlist and the fact that it’s one of my mom’s favorite songs just makes it so much worse?better? Because they would get along so swimmingly it would scare me. I just can’t…can’t even rn…

Temi the Speed Boat

@mrabubu I’m so sorry but I couldn’t help it 🤣

Original Comic found here! 🎵Song: Free Bird TOTEM Remix 🎵

by Lynyrd Skynyrd

Baby Temi

PST @mrabubu I have a little something for ju…

First off I just wanted to say that I absolutely A D O R E your Kraangified AU! Like it makes me smile every time I see it. It’s the most darling storyline I’ve had the privilege of reading and watching you develop. Since I adore it so, now it follows me to some degree every where I go. As such, this was sent into my family chat (it’s my niece at the beach) and all I could imagine was baby Temi waddling around like this because of her shell. Hope it makes you laugh just as much as I did🧡

I feel so incredibly called out by this on so many levels that I’m just sitting in my car with my head on my wheel trying not to get mad at how accurate this is

What I think I look like in my mind after spending all day in my fantasy world kicking ass and taking names:

How the rest of the world sees me in real life:

@theanonymousninja247

Normal

Sometimes I think I’m normal, and then I think things like this,

“I wear crocs, so that people know that I’m friendly and therefore approachable.”

Howdy friends! 🧡👋🏼 Just wanted to drop in to set up a couple of boundaries for the folks coming into my inbox.

ALL are welcome here on this blog, and I do very much enjoy talking to folks. So I do not mind y’all reaching out to chat or discuss in any form or fashion

That being said, ⚠️💸 PLEASE. DO NOT come into my inbox asking for money 💸⚠️

I’m afraid that all such requests will be instantly deleted, especially if they’re anonymous.

I understand that there are MANY folks suffering in plethora of ways, and I promise I do what I can, when I can, in ways in which I use trusted sources outside of Tumblr.

I also request that you don’t ask me to “spread the word” about extreme political/economical/social issues.

There’s a time and place for everything mind you, and Tumblr is just not the place for me. I try very hard to make my blog a safe and uplifting place for EVERYONE, and I do not have the mental, emotional or spiritual capacity for popular charged topics.

For those of you requesting art requests, first and foremost I am flattered. However, as I’m not set up for drawing requests or commissions at this time, I’ll have to kindly ask you to wait until it is explicitly expressed.

Thank y'all for your time + consideration, and I sincerely hope you have a good rest of your day.

Fanart

Just going through my sketchbook + found my very FIRST fanart of ROTTMNT back in 2020. It's fun to see what’s stayed the same (my love for word play) and what’s changed all these years. Here’s to reminiscing the good ole days.

Uhhhhhh don’t think so, lemme go check the color wheel though. Be right back in a sec….

*sounds of papers rustling as I go digging through my notes and then comes back to push the gasses back up my nose with a small clear of my throat*

Dearest @saspas-corner, after consulting with my previous notes and past conversations, I’d like to state that you are still very much a Vintage Watermelon.

mutuals i am politely asking you what color i remind you of

I Can Do Anything Good

Some silly little thoughts I’ve been cooking

Little fun fact about me, I’m currently studying Human Development and Family Studies with the intent to hopefully become a Marriage and Family counselor one day. Because of this, there’s a lot of cool classes I get to take that all interlock one way or another. One of those classes I’m currently taking is “The Body, Sexual Intimacy, and The Gospel of Jesus Christ.”

And this week, we had a discussion about how body image is directly related to sexual satisfaction. Mainly in the fact that high positive body image relates to greater sexual satisfaction over longer periods of time.

As someone who has somewhat always struggled with having positive views about her body, this was somewhat of a blow for me. I mean it makes sense, but I felt somewhat disheartened to hear that how I viewed myself really could adversely affect those special moments with a further partner. Not going to lie, felt a little hopeless about it. Then one comment was shared about one possible way to help overcome low body image beliefs about yourself that really stuck with me, and I wish to share it y’all.

That thought was that if you can not love your body right now, that’s ok. You don’t have to love your body, but you can learn to be grateful about what your body can and already does for you. Simple thing, but it really changed my perspective on how I want to view myself. So just want everybody to know that this is the type energy I’m attempting to adopt when it comes to my life and my body image.

Do you ever find yourself remembering a fic?

Because a word became somewhat of trigger?

A word, a thought, a feeling so simply captured that it very much felt like poetry in the way that it impressed upon your heart and your mind so deeply that it echoes through time and space to find you in the here and now, somehow someway?

I had that feeling today, with these snippets specifically. I hope you know I went searching for this. Legit looking for it. Took a couple hours trying to find it. Only remembering the vibe, the feelings it stirred and a single word.

Tethered especially. Such a fascinating concept that my mind took a hold of and CLUNG to it all these years later. Like…there are no words to explain how much this…struck me…

I also went searching for this reaction photo because it was the only one that came close to capturing my feelings tonight.

Like I’m sitting alone tonight, with my thoughts, with my feelings, just thinking about how someone’s words back on a day in May literally changed my brain chemistry.

Hey, Love your stories btw. Saw requests are open and just wondering if you would write how turtles would be with a partner that overthinks?

Kind of like comfort, mostly fluff scene?

Whelp. I wish I could say I didn't overthink this, but I am not a lying liar who lies. Hope this is to your style anon. I want to apologize in advance for somehow not being able to work Raph smooching his reader into the story, but his Reader is a little too angry for smooches

Bayverse Turtles x Reader, set in 2023 (turtles 22 ish)

G/N Reader (somehow i managed that, but names like sweetheart and babycakes are used.) No Y/N

Warnings/Summary : um... fluff. like comfort. n fluff. angst if you think about the fact that reader is not ok at the beginning of each scene. allusions to sexy times in some of them

Tether

Leo peered into your window, found you splayed out on your bed, legs up the wall and staring off into space. He let himself in via the window in your living room, making sure to step loudly as he made his way to your room. 

You hadn’t moved from that spot. He took the moment to shuck his swords, his belt, placing them across the surface of your dresser, before moving to fold his upper half on your bed, beside your gently rising chest.

“Hey.” That low, calm voice pulls you back from wherever you were, the soft touch of a careful finger against the angle of your cheekbone too common an occurrence to really faze you anymore.

“Leo.” You rasped, fingers idly rubbing against your chest as you drank him in. The bed shifted as he leaned a little further over you, lips plush where they pressed against your cheek. “I didn’t hear you come in?”

A soft snort, his movements still slow, still gentle. “I noticed. Where were you?”

You frowned, turned to stare at the ceiling before turning back to the blue banded turtle. “I was thinking.”

“Of course.” He stated it like it was a fact of life, as easy as breathing and as sure as the sun, no judgement in his too blue eyes.

You found yourself smiling despite still feeling a little lost, knowing he wouldn’t want you to apologize. “I don’t really remember how it started.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

You paused, thinking, before pulling a face.

It pulled a small chuckle from his snout. “You are the opposite of Dee.” 

At your questioning hum, he elaborated. “You both think too much. But he lets it all out, you hold it in.” He gently tapped the point above the center of your rib cage, before moving to brush that same, careful finger down the planes of your face. He continued when your eyes strayed back to the ceiling, “I’ll listen, if or when you need to talk.”

“I don’t know if it’ll help.” You still hadn’t reached out to him, thumbs rubbing over their counterpart’s opposite knuckles. “I just feel a little- untethered.”

He tilted his head, pressed the ridge of his brow against your face, tucked it under the curve of your jaw, slowly slid down to the bones in your collar. “I can tether you.” He whispered, against your skin. “Let me tether you.”

You probably would laugh at the corny line he delivered so seriously, if not for the fact that it was working. His weight, the immediacy of his presence, grounded your fraying thoughts, reeled them back in until you could see the edges of yourself underneath.

He breathed in deeply near the dip at the bottom of your collar, letting you feel the rush of air, let it guide you back. One large hand slipped up against your own, fingers interlocking as he urged your thumbs to stop moving.

A slow sweep of his thumb, far larger than yours, against the inside of your wrist, the callus on the inside of his digit whispering across the softer skin. 

“Shhhh… there you go.” He leaned further across the bed, pushed your face further upwards, the curve of his snout now against your cheek. “You’re not going anywhere, darling. I’m here."

This time, when he took in a deep, steady breath, his chest brushed against your arm, and you felt his air flutter across your face. After a long, silent moment, you turned your head towards his own, fingers twisting to rub against his knuckles instead of your own.

“There we go. Just breathe.” He took another steady breath, urged you to mimic him. It was as though you had forgotten the feeling, your lungs rushing with air, swelling to a point almost painful. Thoughts quieted, the mental bits of papers and half formed thoughts returning to their even piles inside the floor of your mind.

Leo shooshed you again, and you realized there had been a hiccup in your breaths. He shifted, his arms unfurling, letting you roll closer, onto your side. He moved to rest the dip where his snout met his cheek against the upturned side of your face, rubbing back and forth in a soothing motion.

“Leo.” You breathed again, feeling the heavy weight of his arm across your waist, loosened fist in between your shoulder blades. You tucked your face against the arm in front of you, rubbed your face in time with his against the pebbled skin.

“I’m here. You’re here. Just breathe.” He repeated.

He let you wrap an arm around his neck, fingers curling over the rim of his carapace, holding him in your space. He let out a hum, the sound deepening, becoming that comforting thump thump thump in his chest, faster than any heartbeat.

You hand tightened in his own, your head turning to find his gaze.

He gave you a small quirk of lips, his snout touching your nose delicately. “Hey, you.”

You know he felt the small puff of laughter, close as he was. “Hey, you back.” You let go of his shell, wrapped your arm around the back of his head, pulled him closer, just to hear that noise in his chest thump louder.

Vibration

Donnie found you in the least likely of spaces, curled up under his desk, his computer chair pulled in tight as if to make a tiny box. He had to fold in on himself to duck down low enough to catch your gaze.

You looked at him easy enough, eyes hazy and out of focus, wincing slightly at his soft whisper:

“Hey,” he drew the word out gently, “what’s wrong?” 

You didn’t want to tell him your thoughts were running a mile a minute, and the only place dark enough to hide from them was under his desk. You didn’t want to confess that your skin felt three sizes too small, and every breath felt like whatever made you, you, would escape if you weren’t careful.

“Overthinking?” Donnie shuffled closer, hands raising, pausing before he touched you. His head tilted to the side, considering, hazel eyes moving over your shivering, overstimulated form. After a long moment, he dropped his hands away from your space, instead reaching up just enough to grab his keyboard. 

“Hold on, sweetheart. I got something that might help.”

At this point you were desperate enough to just nod, closing your eyes and easing your head in your hands. After a few minutes of his typing, the keys clicking loud in the space, he turned on low music.

And, blessedly, you could feel more than hear. The beat vibrated through the lab, the bass high enough that everything not nailed down shivered. You had enough mind to watch Donnie move to close the door, before he was back on the floor next to you, one large arm braced on the overhang of the desk as he swayed into the little dark spot you had created.

“How are you doing? Is this helping?” At your shaky nod, he nods back, hand rising to softly trail the back of his knuckles down the outside of your nearest arm. 

You let out a soft gasp at the feeling, the fire ants dancing across your skin retreating under the coolness of his skin. “Dee?” 

“I’m right here, sweetheart. Tell me what you need?” He rubbed his knuckles back up your arm, paying attention to the way your limb stopped shaking.

You turned to him, stared at the column of his throat, not yet able to meet his too knowing gaze. “More. Please.”

He ducked away for a minute, and you heard the music change, the sound and vibrations starting to oscillate from one side of the room to the other.

“Thank god for surround sound, hm?” Donnie smiled at you when he came back, knuckles returning to their slow sweep.

That got a faint, brittle laugh out of you, your grip shifting on the arms of his chair, opening and closing against the elbow pads.

Donnie moved further into your little alcove, his shell blocking most of the light. “Do you want to come with me, go lay down?” At the quick shake of your head, he tried a different angle. “Do you want to sit in the chair, instead? The ground can’t be very comfortable, and I don’t know when’s the last time I cleaned under there.”

That- that worked. You unfurled, back cramping from how long you’d been hunched over in the little space. You let Donnie pull you into his lap, into his chair, fitting your knees on either side of his thighs and burying yourself in his shoulder.

“There. Much better.” His words came out in a chirp, cool hands coming up to rub along the curve of your back, switching to running his knuckles along your muscles when you shivered at too much skin contact.

The music drowned out everything, and in the all encompassing shake, his touch became bearable, an outside stimulus to focus on. It allowed you to just, stop thinking, stop worrying, condensing all those all-consuming thoughts into a smaller and smaller pile until you could shove them back into the box they’d escaped from.

You sniffled against Donnie’s skin, felt his head dip to rub his cheek on the top of your head, ruffling your hair. Not talking, not yet, just letting the vibrations do their work. Waiting for you to interact back, waiting for the all clear.

If you opened your eyes, you know you would meet his concerned gaze. After this long, being the object of Donnie’s sole focus wasn’t nearly as intense as it was in the beginning. Now, you could see the emotion there, behind the thoughts always moving, always considering a problem, defining a solution.

You tightened your hold, pressed a kiss to say thank you where the bones of his collar connected to his throat, and heard his low hum in affirmation. One hand left your back, tunneled into your hair, fingers rubbing firmly up and down the sides of your skull. 

“There, little better?” He asked, tilting back in his chair, long legs crossing before resting on the desk. He let you loop your arms around his neck, the hard surface of his plastron buzzing with the music’s vibrations more than your skin was. The thick sound of his churr keeping time like a particularly deep drum under the wave of sound.

You pressed yourself tighter to him in answer. “Thanks, Donnie.” 

“Anytime,” He kissed your temple, pet back your hair. “Anytime you need it.” 

Focus

Raph found you stalking back and forth along the canal in the Lair. He heard the angry slap of your feet, the harsh breathes coming out too fast, too strong, and felt a tightness in his chest long before he caught a glimpse of your face.

You didn’t notice him at first, a feat in itself, eyes on your tightly laced sneakers as you wore a ditch into the concrete, blinking constantly to be able to make out the surface.

“Hey.” He tried, not reaching out, not stopping your path of movement. It took two more calls, his voice slipping deeper, until a particularly rumbled ‘baby’ caught your attention, and you stopped so fast your knees protested.

Raph tracked over you, wanting to reach out, wanting to hold you, knowing it was the last thing you would want at this moment.

You were teetering at the edge of an abyss. Work, Life, Pressure. It was a mantra inside your head, everything that was wrong, everything that was out of your control. You couldn’t meet his eyes, only stared at the blearily outline of green and red, feeling yourself start to hiccup the longer you stayed still, knowing you were well on the way to making yourself sick. 

Raph rumbled again, a thump thump thump you could barely hear, a sort of mantra of his own. I see you, I understand, I know. When you jerked your head away, far too gone for comfort, he tried a different approach, finally moving to block your path.

“Follow me.” He jerked his head over his shoulder, but you were already moving past him, knowing where he wanted you, what he was after. You moved so fast, your steps jerky, angry, that he ended up following you into his weight room, found you practically vibrating as you fought to stay in one piece.

“The bag.” He ordered, another jerk of his head, tone brooking no argument. He wasn’t even sure if you could string together two thoughts to make a syllable at this moment without puking, but he knew you needed something physical, before you made yourself sick.

So he stooped to brace the bag, turned it towards you, winced internally at the thought of not being able to wrap your hands. He made a quick gut decision, grabbing an old pair of gloves and tossing them towards you. They were old, and smelled to high heaven, but they hadn’t fit his hands since he’d hit puberty, and they’d save your knuckles. 

When you gripped them, angry, he let the crack in his voice deepen. “You’re gonna wear them, whether you want to or not. I’m not gonna let you bust your hands.”

You rolled your eyes, tears still tracking down your face, but the particular scowl scrunching his features kept you from arguing, and…. Your hands were already aching, where you’d griped the thin bones in your hands too tight.

So you donned the gloves, took a stance, and swung before Raph could get a word in edgewise. The bag vibrated, but the shock transferred back up your arm, drawing out a pained hiss in the process.

Raph chuckled darkly. “Yeah, I bet that didn’t feel too hot, did it, sweetheart? You gonna listen this time, or are you dead set on hurting yourself somehow?”

You still felt the ache in your muscles, focusing on the punishment. You gave another jab, expecting more, expecting to connect with the sand filled bag, but Raph moved faster than you could process, his large hand taking the hit, curling around your glove to keep it in place.

“Don’t be an idiot.” He growled. “Slow down, think it through. You’re not doing anyone any favors punishing yourself.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, wanted to resume, but he held on tight, brought your glove forward until to pressed against the surface of his plastron, pushed until there was no more room to move forward. 

“You do that again,” he threatened out in a rumble, “and I’ll see that you regret it.” 

You shivered, but he moved away, ducked around the bag again, held it steady. 

“Now.” He intoned, and you knew what he wanted, what he was ordering.

So you fixed your stance, danced side to side, imagined your opponent. Imagined a hook coming your way, slipped past with only a faint jitter of hesitation before delivering a hard liver shot, ducking to the other side before jabbing on the rebound, your weight dancing effortlessly side to side the longer you went.

Raph kept quiet, now that you were thinking, problem solving, working out the frustration properly. He kept his eyes trained on your own, watching you come back, watching the tears slow, stop, and a hard determination take its place.

When you finally moved away from the bag, from him, he followed like a shadow, crowding into your space, stopping a hands breath away.

“You feeling better?” He mimicked your nod, continuing, “good. You need to talk about it?”

When you shook your head, lifted your hand to wipe at your face, he stopped you, grip firm and careful as he kept the filthy glove from touching your skin. You stared down at the gloves, nose wrinkling, not missing the chuckle that escaped him.

“Yeah. Sorry bout that.” He peeled it off your hand, before switching to the other, holding both your wrists in his much larger grip, thumbs pushing into sore muscles. “But I can make it up to you, if you’d like?”

You tsked, finding your lip curling up as he let that hopeful thump thump thump once more, moving into your space until he could cage you in between his arms. 

“Sure, Red. Make it up to me.”

Redirect

Mikey found you curled up on your fire escape, staring moodily at the dirty brick. He landed rather loud, wanting to warn you, wanting to see that wide smile break across your face like it always did when you saw him.

Instead, you stayed focused on the wall, and he deflated a little, before frowning, wondering if you knew it was him, or if you were so out of it you honestly didn’t realize you weren’t alone.

“Babycakes! You ok?” He let his voice carry, his suspicions confirmed when you blinked at the sound of his voice, twisted around in confusion. 

“Oh! Hey Mikey.” But you didn’t smile at seeing him, only pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapped your arms around them, laid your head across the top.

He moved to your side, folded in on himself, shuffled forward until he could press his leg, his arm against your own. “Hey, what’s wrong? Are you ok?”

You hummed, nodded, not moving when he reached out, ran a hand through your hair. “M’ just tired.” You rubbed your head against your knees. “Can’t sleep.”

He tilted his head, considering you, the open window behind the two of you. “You wanna go lay down? I bet I could help you sleep.” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You shook your head again, and he removed his hand, leaning backwards and bracing himself on his palms, nudged you with his leg. “C’mon, baby, talk to me? Tell me what’s wrong? Please?”

“Oh, Mikey,” you smiled at his insistence. “I’m just a little caught up at the moment.” At his confused look, you tapped the side of your head. “Thoughts too loud to sleep, Angelo. Wouldn’t be fair for you to deal with that.”

He frowned, moved forward again, tapping a quick rhythm on his knees, watching as you focused on the movement. An idea sparked, and he quickly shuffled forward, mimicking your pose once more, eyes quickly moving around until he found what he was looking for.

“Look,” He pointed, reached out to tilt your head the correct direction when you hummed in confusion. You saw a tall man walking down the street, dressed to impress, fashion impeccable. You turned a confused look towards Michelangelo, wondering what in the world he was about pointing out a handsome man to you.

“Where do you think he’s going?” He asked, nudged your shoulder until you gave a sigh, answering just to get him to stop:

“I don’t know-” at his puppy dog eyes, you tried again, “maybe, maybe off to a fancy dinner? A promotion?” You lifted a hand to your head, rubbed at the ache.

“Hm.” Mikey hummed, considering. “I bet he’s leaving a date with his wife, on his way to lead a double life,” he dropped his voice to a whisper, aware you didn’t realize you were leaning into him to hear his words, “as a strongman in the  illegal underground circus.”

You stared at him for a beat, taking in his pleased grin, before the first bubble of laughter caught you by surprised, escaped before you could reel it in. “What?” You asked, hand coming up to muffle the sound. 

Mikey tugged your hand down, claiming it in his grip as he pointed out another character. “Look at her! See how she walks so fast?” He glanced over at you, saw your eyes tracking the figure. “Bet she’s late for a super villain meeting, and she’s completely forgotten it’s her turn to bring the snacks.”

“Super villain meeting?” You echoed, unfurling a little, letting him pull you closer. “Shouldn’t you tell Leo about that?”

“Eh,” Mikey shrugged, fingers dancing up and down your sides when you leaned into him. “I was going to, but they keep bribing me with pizza.”

“That would work.” You nodded along when he agreed with your assessment, then pointed. “What about him?”

Mikey followed your gaze. “Oh. Him?” He paused a moment, glancing between you and the person. “Hey, how come the people you pick are handsome?”

You sputtered, “What? He’s the first one I picked!”

“Nu uh,” Mikey shook his head, grateful you couldn’t see his face. “You picked the first one, and he was handsome, too.”

“Mikey, you picked the first one.” Your voice pitched up at the end, clearly hiding laughter, and you could feel him shake behind you.

“No I didn’t, I clearly remember you did.” He insisted, hands slipping around your waist when you turned in his grip, legs boxing in your elbows when you jabbed a retaliatory finger into his plastron.

Jab. “You.” Another jab. “Are an absolute.” Jab jab. “Menace, Mi-” 

He kissed you, a quick press of lips before he bubbled your cheek. “Oh yea? Got you smiling, babe.”

You slumped against him, and he braced a palm behind him to keep from toppling back, concerned for half a beat before he felt the shivers of your laugh against his chest. He let out a soft churr, and you nuzzled into the sound.

“God, what would I do without you, Mikey?” You asked, looped your arms around him as far as they would go.

“You aren’t ever gonna find out, baby.” He replied, gathering you closer, letting you slot yourself against him, content to stay outside in the cold for as long as you wanted.

Birds

A small project dedicated to @sophiacloud28 and her story “A Shot in The Dark.” And inspired by this comment I was able to snag from her

I had so many thoughts and feelings working on this project, but the symbolism behind just birds and freedom in particular wouldn’t leave me alone. And you know what they say about a picture is worth a thousand words? Well here’s my attempt of a thousand words. So I present Miss Estrella as the Twite Bird

Flower meanings in Floriography

Iris: Valor, Wisdom, Faith

Ivy: Fidelity and Attachment

Picture progress because without fail, I always like the “before’” the actual final 😆

me reading all of these like

Might I also offer some of these?

Leo: "Girl you belong on my TBR list (to be read) because you're one story I can't wait to check out." Donnie: cue Donnie just awkwardly hovering extra close to you all day for some reason and when you call him out on it, he just grins sheepishly and pushes up his glasses and says

"My apologies, the Law of Attraction states that any two objects, no matter how small or large, exert a gravitational force on each other. And since the gravitational pull of your eyes is stronger than that of a black hole, I find myself unexplainably drawn towards you."

Mikey: teasingly trying to pull you in for a kiss "Babe. I have Diabetes, and my glucose is low. Quick! I need some emergency sugar!"

Raph: "Can I try a new pick up line on you?” Proceeds to literally pick you up and throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Random Turtle Thoughts...

Pickup lines the Bay Guys would use.

(These are just for fun!)

Leo:

"What's your favorite hobby? Besides making me smile, that is."

"So, do you have a preferred nickname? Or should I just call you mine?"

"Your hand looks heavy. Can I hold it for you?"

"See my fathead of a brother over there? He wants to know if you think I'm hot."

"Hi. I'm Mr. Right. Someone said you were looking for me."

"I've heard nothing lasts forever. What do you say? Wanna be my nothing?"

"Has anyone told you how beautiful you look today? Then let me have the honor of being the first."

"Aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?"

Donnie:

"Did you know that a black hole has the second strongest gravitational pull in the known universe? The first is your eyes."

"There isn't a word in the dictionary for how captivating you are."

"I didn't believe it was physically possible for anyone to steal the stars, but here I am, looking right at them in your eyes."

"All the good pickup lines are taken, but I'm hoping you're not."

"I'm not flirting. I'm just genuinely enamored with you."

"Did the sun come out, or did you just smile at me?"

"Does the sunshine ever get jealous of how radiant you are?"

"So, when I call to tell you good morning, what number am I using?"

Mikey:

"Now I'm no photographer, but I can definitely picture us together."

"Hey. Do me a solid and let me know if you see any cops around. Cuz I'm about to steal your heart."

"I was wondering if you're an artist cuz you're so good at drawing me in."

"Your lips look lonely. Would they like to meet mine?"

"I ought to complain to Spotify for not naming you this week's hottest single."

"Can I get your picture? I wanna prove to my brothers that angels really do exist."

"What time do you have to get back to heaven?"

"Mind taking my arm as I walk you home? That way I can say I've been touched by an angel."

Raph:

"Damn, sweetheart. Somethin' must be wrong with my eyes. I can't take 'em off you."

"Here I am, gorgeous. What are yer other two wishes?"

"You remind me of a snowflake, darlin'. Beautiful - unique - and one touch makes you melt." (alt: "And one touch makes you wet.")

"Yer so beautiful I forgot my fuckin' pickup line."

"That outfit looks great on ya. Come to think of it, so would I."

"Let's flip a coin. Heads, I'm yours. Tails, your mine."

"I think the only way you could possibly get more beautiful is if I really got to know ya."

"Damn, girl. God was showing off when he made you."

><><><><><><

Hope you enjoyed. Feel free to reblog with any pickup lines you think the guys would use!

@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

@theanonymousninja247 @tmntngl

Jayus’ Jammie Jams

Hewooo folks! Had this song pop up on my shuffle today and I couldn’t help but just imagine this would fit for ROTTMNT Mikey 🤔🧡

Like mans got a LOT love to give just generally and is practically diagnosed with ADHD in every iteration. But could you imagine how intense being the sole focus, dare I say hyperfixation, of one such turtle? He lives to love and to love YOU would give him life. Wrapped up and interwoven in every thought and every action through and through.

“You got me in chains, you got me in chains for your love But, I wouldn't change, no I wouldn't change this love.”

oooooo this looks like a lot of fun! I do find myself incredibly chuffed with doing character boards like this and would love to give it a whirl!

Let’s seeeeee for assumptions for @canipleasegetthenumber15….hmmm I wanna say someone who has such a good heart that they get tired. A LOT. Because they care so much and they work so hard that they kinda feel dead to the world? But like, they’re gonna keep going because their peeps need them and no matter how tired they are, they’re gonna keep going.

Definitely somebody who gives good hugs and is in desperate need of one. A good long one, probably paired with a long nap and a fuzzy heavy blanket 🤔🧡

I relate to so many characters tho that it’s not even funny, but these are probably my leading ones.

Analyze as you will (and only if you want to, not pressure or anything) @saspas-corner, @anobodyinabog, @sophiacloud28 and @thelaundrybitch

I choose you!

Making a tag game cause I can

Rules: post 4 fictional characters you relate to and assume something about the person you reblogged from based on their characters

No pressure tag! @sidneyoftheblackwoods @mqstermindswift @stars-and-birds @zenilvar @forever-chained-to-myself @themidnightarcher @skeelly @thepencilsnameissteve @thislove-taylorsversion @thislifeissweeterthanfiction @swiftieannah @a-pessimistic-swiftie @catastrxblues @jellycanon @what-about-wendy and anyone else who wants to join<3

🚨PAY ATTENTION 2 DIS🚨

GUYS GUYS GUYS!!! EVERYBODY SHUT UP (affectionately) AND LOOK AT THIS!

LOOK. AT. IT

I GOT A COMMISSION FROM THE PHENOMENALLY TALENTED @nikaserb !!

Yall really ought to go check out her page and give her the love and attention she deserves because she drew one of MY besties with one of her favorite characters! And look LOOK at how absolutely darling she made them both look!

Like AH! You really captured their personalities through the dynamics of their poses and expressions. Not to mention I’m also in love with the lighting! It’s so warm and wholesome that I can’t help but just grin like a fool looking at it.

AND BECAUSE ITS SO BEAUTIFUL AND I LOVE IT SO, ALL Y’ALL GOTTA LOOK AT IT TOO!

Thank you thank you again for blessing me and my eyes with your incredible talents @nikaserb you truly have a gift of making art just feel real because there’s just a way you capture life and vibrancy that’s honestly breathtaking.

AI only WISHES it could be this good because lemme tell ya, this is the REAL deal!

I can’t wait to surprise my friend with this. May she suffer with all the love and affection this day. BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAA 😈😆🙌🏼🧡

Relentless

Relentless (adj): continuing in a determined manner without any interruption.

I hope that I word this well enough to adequately get my feelings across but I had a little thought today about Jesus love for all of us. 

And one specific scripture comes to mind. Roman 8:38-39 which reads

“38 For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

39 Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

While reading this, the definition of the word relentless also comes to mind. This meaning, Jesus’ love for us is the real deal. It’s not going away whether we feel like we deserve it or not. 

I know what that’s like. Thinking that there’s this…version I have to be before I become worthy of His or anybody’s love. I know what it’s like to feel like I have earn, work or prove that I’m perfect to some degree or fashion to just be worth the time and effort of acknowledgment.

It’s such a sad little lie that I’ve unfortunately been believing for most of my life. But the cool thing with getting older, is a little bit of maturity and perspective. And some of that perspective has led me to see my relationship with Jesus and His love for me just a smidge differently. 

Now, in my head, I just imagine Jesus donning the outfit of a linebacker or something football related. He’s plopping his helmet on top of his head as he gets down in his hike ready position before he starts booking it down the field, full on tackling the obstacles and sins of life that prevent His love from getting through. Literally doing EvErYtHiNg in His power to try and reach me. 

And the best part? It’s not just me. He’s trying to reach US. Because WE are His end goal. Now. Always. AND forever.

That love is perfect and eternal and it NEVER changes in intensity or direction.

Jesus is constantly, relentlessly pursing us with His arms WIDE open to receive us home.

So come home friend. In anyway that means to you. Let yourself be loved and know that you ARE enough. You ARE loved. 🫂💙✨

Art credit goes to THE incredibly talented @samlo.es on Instagram. Totally worth checking out if you ever get the chance!

Briefly rising from the dead to ask: Which turtle are you similar to in personality vs who’s your fav

Similar to Mikey, fav is Leo 🤓⚔️

Sweet Flipping Chicken and Mercy May 😳🥺🫢

Bayverse!Leo as a Boyfriend – Headcanons

(Because even if I don’t like him, he deserves better characterization and development. And besides, I love overanalyzing.)

Pairing: Leonardo x Female!Reader

Warnings: Overprotectiveness, possessive behavior, affection-starved. Subtle (but present) hints of: narcissism, egocentrism, perfectionism, spirituality, insomnia. I developed him so well that I actually like him now—I don’t like that.

Leonardo, as a partner, would be a fascinating study in contradictions. At first glance, he seems like the perfect boyfriend—disciplined, loyal, protective, someone you can trust without hesitation. But being with him isn’t easy.

Not because he’s cold or indifferent—on the contrary, he feels too much. He’s just spent his entire life learning how to hide it. To him, emotions are a double-edged sword: love can give you strength, yes, but it can also make you drop your guard, make mistakes, and risk everything you’ve fought for.

And Leonardo can’t afford that luxury.

Since he was young, his identity has been tied to duty. He’s not just an older brother—he is the older brother. The leader. The one who must always have the answers. There is no room for error, no space for doubt. That’s why, if he ever fell in love, he would do so with the same intensity he applies to any challenge—with absolute commitment. But also, with a need for control that can be suffocating.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust his partner. It’s that he needs to make sure nothing puts her in danger. That she’s safe, that there are no loose ends, that every move is calculated. Don’t expect Leo to be the laid-back boyfriend who goes with the flow. He will want to protect you—even from things that might not even be a real threat.

If he comes to your house and you don’t answer, his mind will assume the worst before even considering that you were simply in the shower. If you go out alone at night, he won’t be at ease until he knows you made it home safely. Not out of jealousy, but because the thought of losing someone he loves terrifies him. But instead of expressing that fear, he translates it into rules, into planning, into strategies.

Because Leonardo doesn’t know how to handle what is beyond his control.

This was evident in Out of the Shadows. His instinct was to make decisions for everyone, to divide the team when he felt they were weakening. He truly believed he was doing the right thing, that carrying the burden alone was the best course of action. But in the process, he lost sight of what his brothers really needed. And that’s exactly how he would be in a relationship—not out of malice, but because he believes being the strong one is his duty.

And while Leo loves with every fiber of his being, he doesn’t say it easily. He’s not the type to look you in the eyes and just blurt out an “I love you.” His way of showing affection is more silent, more tangible. He will remember exactly how you like your tea, he will learn to pick up on even the slightest change in your tone of voice, he will make sure you always have an escape plan in case things go wrong. But if you expect spontaneous hugs or verbal expressions of love, you might find yourself frustrated. Not because he doesn’t feel it, but because, to him, love isn’t something you say—it’s something you prove.

However, if someone manages to break through his armor, they will see something that few have ever witnessed. Because beneath all the rigidity, the discipline, and the self-imposed perfection, there is a boy who never had the chance to make mistakes. A boy who has spent years carrying a tremendous weight, who can’t remember the last time someone saw him and not just the leader. A boy who desperately needs a space where he can stop being the strategist, the protector, the flawless Leonardo… and simply be Leo.

Leonardo isn’t someone who easily succumbs to distractions. Not because he doesn’t enjoy them, but because he’s always believed his time should be invested in something useful. Yet on the rare occasions when he allows himself to let his guard down—in the privacy of his room or on a quiet night at the lair—small details reveal who he truly is beyond being the leader of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles.

For instance, he enjoys science fiction movies and TV shows. He wouldn’t admit it out loud—after all, Mikey would never let him forget it—but there’s something about exploring space, about advanced civilizations and the ethical dilemmas these worlds present, that fascinates him. Perhaps it’s because he sees his own struggle reflected in them: leaders forced to make impossible decisions, burdened with responsibility, torn between duty and heart. Whether it’s Star Trek, The Expanse, or even some of the more philosophical tales of Ghost in the Shell… Leo sits with his arms crossed, pretending not to be too interested, yet if someone pays close attention, they’ll notice the intensity in his gaze and the way his fingers tense with every twist in the story.

And although everyone sees him as the serious one, it’s not that he lacks a sense of humor. His humor is just more subtle, drier, more ironic. He won’t burst out laughing like Mikey or be as explosive as Raph, but if you’re close enough, if you’ve earned his trust, you’ll notice that there are moments when he quietly drops a joke in a neutral tone, waiting to see if you catch it. And when you do, when you respond with a retort just as sharp, the corner of his mouth barely curves, as if he’s quietly satisfied with the interaction.

But if there’s one thing that truly brings him peace, it’s tending to his bonsai trees. It’s a hobby that no one in the lair seems to fully understand. Mikey calls them boring, Raph jokes that they’re just “miniature trees,” and Donnie respects the practice but sees it more as an exercise in patience. For Leo, however, it’s more than that. It’s a reminder of balance. Of control. Of how even the smallest force, with the right guidance, can grow in the right way. And on nights when the pressure becomes too much, when he feels the weight of his role crushing him, he sits in silence before his little tree, allowing himself a moment to breathe, to reconnect with himself.

But love… love is different.

Leo doesn’t allow himself to fall in love easily. Not because he doesn’t want to, but because his mind simply doesn’t work that way. He needs to feel that his partner is more than just a fleeting attraction. He needs connection. Compatibility. A deep, unwavering understanding. And that isn’t built overnight.

That’s why, when he finally starts to realize that what he feels for you goes beyond friendship, the first emotion that floods him isn’t happiness.

It’s doubt.

And Leonardo shouldn’t doubt.

He always has answers. He always has a plan. But for the first time, he’s standing on ground where logic is useless, where he can’t break things down into a battle strategy. He can’t make a pros-and-cons list about his feelings. He can’t calculate every move the way he would in combat. And that frustrates him.

Because if he accepts it—if he acknowledges that his feelings are real—it means there’s something in his life that he can’t control.

And Leonardo hates not having control.

Leonardo isn’t someone who falls asleep easily.

Not because he doesn’t need to—his body demands rest just like anyone else’s—but because his mind never truly shuts off.

In the lair, when everyone else is asleep—when even Donnie has finally stepped away from his monitors, and Raph has stopped pounding the punching bag—Leo is still awake. Arms crossed, back stiff against the wall, gaze lost in the dim light of his room.

It’s in those moments of solitude that his mind betrays him.

When he tries to dissect what he feels, to categorize it, to put it into some kind of logical order. Because he’s always in control. Always.

And this… this shouldn’t be any different.

He’s not impulsive like Mikey, letting himself be carried away by every emotion without a second thought.

He’s not a ticking time bomb like Raph, ready to explode at the most unexpected moment.

He’s not even like Donnie, obsessively analyzing every variable to the point of overload.

He is Leonardo.

Leader. Warrior. Strategist.

And there is nothing he can’t control.

So if he has reached the conclusion that what he feels for you is real, then he will take the reins.

It won’t be difficult.

It shouldn’t be difficult.

He will force himself to keep everything in place, to act with precision. His glances will linger just a second longer—but not enough to be obvious. His words will be measured, carefully chosen, but still carrying his usual composed tone. He will make small, almost imperceptible changes.

Like making sure you walk on the safer side of the street.

Adjusting his stance subtly to block the wind when you’re on the rooftop.

Asking if you’ve eaten well—but casually, as if it’s not really important.

And the worst part? Unlike Donnie, who would give himself away with nervous fidgeting and stammered words, you will never notice.

Because Leonardo won’t allow you to notice.

All you’ll see is someone who has everything under control. Someone who watches you with the same intensity he reserves for his enemies on the battlefield, as if he’s calculating every single one of your movements.

But what he doesn’t want you to see is the opposite.

That inside, he’s nervous.

That his palms sweat when he touches you, when his fingers accidentally brush against yours.

That his pulse quickens when you get too close, and he has to remind himself to breathe normally.

That in every conversation, in every moment, there’s a small part of him afraid that one wrong step will ruin everything.

Because if there is one thing Leonardo could never forgive himself for, it’s losing what you’ve built together.

Not just losing you, but losing your trust.

And if that were to happen… how could he justify it?

How could he explain to himself that after a lifetime of making the best possible choices to protect those he cares about—this was the one he let slip through his fingers?

And when he finally allows himself to admit it—when he has broken through every mental barrier he imposed on himself, when he has analyzed every angle, when he has measured every consequence—Leonardo feels something inside him loosen.

For a moment, just a moment, it’s as if he has won the hardest battle of his life.

The weight on his shoulders dissolves, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he breathes deeply without the pressure in his chest tightening.

You are his.

Not in some shallow, possessive way, but in something deeper, more primal.

Like an instinct that has always been there, buried beneath layers of discipline and responsibility, waiting to be acknowledged.

And now that he has… there is no turning back.

But the peace doesn’t last.

Because almost immediately, another weight crashes down on him—heavier, inescapable.

Before, his burden was uncertainty.

Now, it is certainty.

Now that he has you, he must protect you.

With everything he has.

Not just from the dangers of the outside world—but from himself.

Because Leonardo cannot afford to fail.

And even though love is uncharted territory—a battlefield he has never stepped foot on—he demands perfection from himself.

To be the ideal partner.

To give you exactly what you need before you even ask.

To measure every word, every gesture, every decision.

To make sure you never have to question if he is enough for you.

Because he has to be.

He is Leonardo.

And Leonardo does not fail.

But there is a problem.

Because you don’t want the flawless strategist.

You don’t want the leader who is always in control.

You don’t want the polished, calculated version of him.

You just want Leo.

The Leo who watches sci-fi shows but would never admit to liking them.

The Leo who pretends he doesn’t enjoy messing around with his brothers, but secretly loves the rare moments when he catches Raph off guard or makes Donnie roll his eyes.

The Leo who tends to his bonsai trees with quiet devotion because, though he never says it out loud, they reflect his philosophy: patience, growth, balance.

And that is a terrifying concept for him.

Because showing you that side of himself means lowering his guard.

It means allowing you to see what’s underneath the armor.

The boy who gets frustrated.

Who sometimes doesn’t know what to do.

Who fears he won’t be enough.

That side of him—no one has truly seen it.

Not even his brothers.

But you… you want to see it.

And the road to him letting you in will be a long one.

Because accepting that you love him for who he is—not for what he represents, not for what he does, but for his very essence—is the hardest test Leonardo has ever faced.

Leonardo believes he has everything under control.

That he can handle his emotions the way he handles a katana: with precision, with discipline, with absolute mastery over every movement.

But you…

You are a challenge unlike any other.

Because while he struggles to keep his composure, while he measures every word and makes sure not to take a wrong step, you simply are.

You don’t need strategies or plans. You don’t analyze every interaction as if it were a life-or-death mission.

And that unsettles him.

Because deep down, Leonardo doesn’t know how to be loved.

He knows how to protect. He knows how to fight. He knows how to sacrifice himself for others.

But when it comes to receiving love… that’s where the conflict begins.

He appreciates that you’re not overly affectionate with him.

That you don’t suffocate him with displays of affection that would make him uncomfortable, that would force him to lower his guard all at once.

But at the same time, he dies when you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

At first, he goes completely still, trying to process it, trying not to lose control.

But the moment you feel his breath hitch, the moment you notice the way his fingers grip your waist tighter than he probably meant to—you know he’s falling.

And the worst part is that he hates it.

Because Leonardo shouldn’t let himself go.

He shouldn’t forget the weight on his shoulders or allow something as simple as a kiss to make him feel lighter—as if, for just a moment, the world didn’t depend on him.

But he does.

And it frustrates him.

Because he’s supposed to be the unshakable fortress.

He’s supposed to be untouchable.

And yet, here he is.

With his heart pounding too fast.

With his mind completely blank.

With you stealing his control with just a simple touch.

It sounds contradictory.

Because it is contradictory.

But Leo is a contradiction.

Because while he says attachment is a weakness, he holds you tighter when you try to pull away.

Because while he insists emotions cloud judgment, he stays awake until dawn thinking about what he feels for you.

Because while he tries to convince himself that his duty is more important than his happiness, he wonders if, just this once, he can have both.

And that is the real battle.

Not against an enemy.

Not against an external threat.

But against himself.

Because loving you means lowering his guard.

It means trusting that, even if he doesn’t have everything under control, you’ll still be there.

It means accepting that love isn’t a problem to solve, nor a responsibility to bear.

It’s just… love.

And no matter how hard he fights it, no matter how much he tries to convince himself he can keep his distance, there is one truth he cannot deny:

You are the only person in the world who can make Leonardo stop fighting.

Leonardo isn’t someone who takes intimacy lightly.

For him, physical touch isn’t just an act. It isn’t just a moment.

It’s an offering.

And he doesn’t give himself away so easily.

Not because he’s afraid—or at least, he’d never admit it.

But deep down, there’s an unease that eats away at him.

His size. His strength. His biology.

You’re human. Fragile in comparison.

And even though he knows you’re strong, that you wouldn’t do anything unless you were absolutely sure, his protective instincts won’t allow it.

It’s not just about protecting you.

It’s about himself.

His own control.

Because control is the one thing he’s always had.

Ever since he took on the role of leader, ever since he understood that his life wasn’t his own but belonged to those who depended on him, Leonardo learned to restrain himself.

To hold back.

To be the balance in the midst of chaos.

But you…

You make him lose that balance.

And if he allows himself to let go, if he allows that wall to crumble, he fears what might happen.

Because to Leonardo, intimacy isn’t just physical pleasure.

It’s a connection.

It’s binding his soul with yours.

It’s giving you a part of himself that no one has ever seen before.

And that is the real danger

Because if he gives you that—if he allows himself to feel you, to touch you, to love you on such a profound level—

Then there’s no going back.

He knows he could become addicted.

That the moment he lets go of the weight on his shoulders and focuses only on you—on your body beneath his, on your breath hitching, on the way you say his name—

Everything else will fade away.

And Leonardo cannot afford to forget his duty.

But… what if, just this once, he could?

What if, just this once, he could be Leo and not the leader?

If he could forget the world for a few hours—lose himself in you, in the warmth of your skin, in the way you look at him as if he’s more than just a warrior, more than just a responsibility, more than just a soldier trained to sacrifice everything.

If he could simply be yours.

That… that is what truly terrifies him.

Because if he tastes it once, he knows he’ll want it again.

And again.

And again.

Until there is nothing left of the fortress he has so carefully built.

Until there is nothing left of the perfect leader his brothers need.

Only him.

Only you.

Just two souls bound together—no rules, no duties, no limits.

And though he tries to convince himself he can resist…

He knows that, eventually, he will fall.

But Leonardo knows he’s not ready.

That he can’t let it all go—not yet.

Because if he does, who will bear the weight of the world in his place?

If he falls, his brothers fall. If he allows himself to be selfish, even for a moment, everything he has built could collapse.

So he waits.

He waits for you to understand.

To understand that there are things he still cannot give you, no matter how much he desires them.

But that doesn’t mean he gives you nothing.

Something just as intimate, just as addictive.

Vulnerability.

Not with his body, but with his soul.

So when night falls, when the world goes quiet and there is no one but the two of you, he lets you see beyond the barrier.

He lets you step into his sanctuary.

He pulls out the blankets he keeps tucked away in the back of his closet, the ones with the worn-out Rebel Alliance logo, and hands them to you without a word.

He lets you see the space-themed pillowcase he would never admit he still uses.

And then, in the dim glow of his room, when there are no more distractions, no more responsibilities, you talk.

Not about strategies. Not about training. Not about what is expected of him.

You talk about everything and nothing all at once.

About stars and distant galaxies.

About the Star Wars episodes he never gets tired of watching.

About the times he wondered if his destiny was already written or if he could take a detour.

And it’s there, in those organic conversations—unplanned, uncalculated, imperfect—that you witness something few have ever seen:

Not the leader.

Not the eldest brother.

Just Leo.

And then, when sleep finally claims you, you curl up against his chest—no fear, no hesitation.

Your breathing slows, steady and peaceful.

Your warmth seeps into his skin.

And Leonardo, the one who never lets his guard down, the one who is always on alert, stays still.

Feeling.

Listening.

Your heartbeat, syncing with his.

Nothing separates you but a thin layer of skin.

And for the first time in a long time, he forgets.

Forgets duty, weight, sacrifice.

Forgets that he must be strong, that he must be everyone’s shield.

Because in this moment, there is only you.

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 😎😘✌🏼🩵