#a movie that actually comforted me in my own grief

[witchysolfan]

“He’s my cat! He’s not God’s cat! Let God have his own cat! Let God have all the damn old cats He wants, and kill them all! Church is mine!” ~Pet Sematary by Stephen King

[chithereader]

you and me / aaron hotchner

word count: 1.9k

pairing: aaron hotchner x singer!reader , aaron hotchner x f!reader

genre: fluff, a little angst

cw: a lot of conversation, i went a little crazy i just love interviews like zane lowe’s!!! and soft aaron

a/n: this photo just makes me think of aaron waiting backstage for popstar!reader / singer!reader

and requests are open!! would love to know what you guys want to read ◡̈

You requested that the set-up of the interview be comfortable. You knew you’d be talking about your albums which are notoriously packed with stories and emotions, personal and imagined. Now what is more comfortable than your own home? 

When you were designing your home, you knew from the start you wanted a conversation pit. You’ve always dreamed of a house that screamed cozy and comfortable, warm and inviting. Even if it cost millions to make, you had no regrets. 

But aside from the occasional family dinners, your sunken living room was only ever used when Aaron and Jack sleep over, and you had a movie marathon night. You'd throw in duvets and pillows on the pit and bunch together whether it was cold or not.

So you thought this interview is perfect to justify your design choice. To use the conversation pit for actual conversation. Which brings you to now, sat across your good friend and favorite interviewer Zane Lowe, your previous and latest album being the topic of conversation. 

“Your previous album was– you know, I mean, it was–” Zane appears to struggle for a word to encapsulate one of the lowest points in your life. Fractured was definitely an emotional album to make and an even sadder one to listen to.  

“Depressing?” you jokingly say. Talking has always been so easy with Zane. He just has this air to him that lets you know he truly just wants to know you. You sit on the couch sideways, facing Zane. Leaning on the back rest with your elbow, head resting on your hand while your other hand fidgets with the tassels on the pillow. 

He laughs, “Well, you were definitely at a low point in your life romantically.” fiddling with his chin, thinking of his next words, “You just– I think you perfectly captured in your songs that sort of loss and tangible grief that comes with letting go of a person- not because there weren’t any love anymore but more because love just wasn’t enough to keep it going.” 

Remembering what had happened– the air felt thinner. Like it was getting harder to breathe. You had to remember that that point of your life was over. You felt such real pain that time, so much so that you struggled to function in your daily life. That void. That ringing emptiness. 

You’re brought back to reality by Zane’s voice, “Could you touch on how that came about?” 

You breathe out a small sigh and with a gentle smile you recall, “Yeah, uhm.. I was in this relationship.. which in hindsight, I’m so lucky to have been in. It taught me so much and truly made me so much more mindful I guess. I mean like, smarter? More conscious definitely of what goes into making a relationship work, and what makes it strong.” 

“But like you said, it ended because as much as we both wanted it to work, as much as we loved each other, it just wasn’t happening. And it was a vicious cycle that was tiring us out. We just knew it wasn’t supposed to be like that.” You pause for a bit, reflecting. 

Flashes of you and Aaron driving home in silence after a dinner at Rossi’s play in your head. You didn’t talk the whole night. Not when you were dressing up. Not in the car ride on the way there. Not when you sat down together. And definitely not when each of you were across the room, busy in separate conversations ignoring the glaringly obvious. 

Looking down at the decorative pillow in your lap, you start, “And I think that in my experience, that’s a lot more painful. I think that break-ups that happen when one hurts the other is somehow better because you get to hold on to I deserve better or like– there’s just thing like anger that drives you to move on.”

You’re taken back to that night. Coming home and feeling the weight of it fall on both your shoulders. You sat for hours in silence, holding each other. Knowing that when the sun rises, he’ll go to work, you’ll go on tour, and your little world will be put to rest. 

“But having that overflowing love for a person who is just not meant for you– I mean how do you tell yourself to let go? How can you even try to convince yourself ? Because people say so often that as long as you love someone there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for them and that’s true. I’ve been there, and even everything wasn’t enough. And that was something we really struggled with.” 

“Just admitting that we had to love each other from afar before we turned into strangers together.” 

It just didn’t make sense. The love you had for each other was real. It was deep and true, and neither of you had any doubt of what you meant to each other. There was no question of loyalty or trust. 

But the traveling, the conflict in schedules, the missed calls and messages left on read. You just became both so busy, you were worlds apart. It even reached the point that you haven’t talked for days and neither of you noticed. Or minded. You thought of each other, yeah. But there wasn’t that urge to reach out anymore. There was just… longing. 

��

“Which brings us to now. Your latest album Leftover Love– it’s a lot more hopeful isn’t it? I mean I’d even go as far as saying that it’s about falling in love all over again.” Zane sips on the tea you made him. Leaning over the makeshift coffee table to add more milk in there. 

You straighten a little. Mood instantly lifting at the mention of your favorite album to date. Images of the inspiration behind the album filling your head. 

Zane puts down his tea to gesture generously, “And hearing it live, you could just feel it in the crowd– this kind of electricity. And because there’s no other way to put it– your songs in this album feel a lot like jumping and dancing with a partner in a room full of people and everything is just in slow motion. It’s like this sort of alignment or clicking into place, finding that one person that makes those small moments feel so.. big.” 

He put it perfectly into words. You had really hoped to relay through your songs the recent turn of events in your life. People who have supported you and loved you when you were at low points in your life got you through that, and you felt so strongly that they deserved to know and feel even a fraction of the happiness that you’re feeling right now through your new songs. 

“Definitely, I mean I’m so proud to say that these songs, even if they’re a touch fictional or exaggerated or romanticized– they are based on truths, on real things that have happened or are happening in my life.” You’re getting excited. Pulling the sleeves of your sweater to cover your hands until only your fingertips are visible– you place both hands down on the pillow as if bracing yourself for the climax of a rollercoaster ride. 

“The song Blindly for example, it’s about that feeling or like moment of realization that you’re just so crazy in love you’d follow this person anywhere blindly. I love that the sound’s so grunge-y and messy– insane. Because that’s literally how it feels to be in that whirlwind.” 

Zane picks up on your excitement, nodding at your explanation. He relaxes more into his seat and gestures to you, “It’s a good thing you mentioned that because I actually wanted to ask you why that song slows down at the end. I think that was such a unique and beautiful thing to do to the song and it works so well. But I just want to know what made you do that–” You’re biting your lip smiling, so proud that it was recognized as a conscious choice as a musician and artist.

Zane continues, “It goes from crazy drums and guitar, and the bass– then slows down into this almost hypnotic music box sound that transitions by the end into just this beat like a pulse.” 

Your smile grows bigger which Zane mirrors, “I’m so happy you picked up on that. I have to say that’s actually one of the songs I’m most proud of because it’s one of the first songs that I was heavily involved in the engineering of the sound.”

“But yeah I guess ultimately I just wanted it to mimic that transition from being in crazy love, tornado-esque to it literally settling into this beautifully calm and serene kind of love.” 

Zane listens intently, nodding and humming in agreement and knowing. Finally understanding the point of view from which the sound was created. He has this gentle smile on his face, almost of encouragement knowing you had more to say, 

“Like you go from all these dates and the honeymoon phase, and your heart’s just beating crazy fast all the time and then it turns into that steady murmur of your fridge in the null of the night when you’re baking muffins together in silence.”

You take a deep breath, chewing on the inside of your lip. Hopelessly trying to minimize the smile fighting its way on your face, “It’s just that process of someone becoming your home.” 

-

You're ushering out the last of the production people. Walking alongside Zane who’s the last to step out your front door, you give him a big hug which he returns warmly. 

“I’m so happy you’re happy,” he murmurs into your ear. 

You bury your face into his shoulder and breathe out a laugh, “Thank you.. Really.” 

You separate and smile at each other. Waving goodbye as he walks backwards to his car. You stand by your front door until they pull out of your driveway.

Once you see that your driveway is empty, you turn to your door and see him leaning against the doorframe with a smug, knowing smirk. 

Rolling your eyes playfully as you pass by him into your home, he chuckles. You hear his footsteps behind you and you know he’s following you around while you tidy up the dishes you and Zane used, “Aaron, take out the trash please.” 

This man just listened to you talk about him for hours. With headphones and a monitor set up in the other room– Aaron just got his ego inflated to a size so immeasurable he can’t hide his smile from the strangers beside him controlling lights and volumes. He has got to be humbled.

“Oh so I’m back to Aaron now?” He catches up to you, halting your movements from behind as he takes hold of your arms so you can put down whatever was in them. Then he turns you around by your shoulders so you’re facing him, grinning that smile that makes you go Fuck and then blank in your head.

“And here I was thinking I was home.” Aaron pulls you close, sliding an arm around your waist only to settle on your back as the other holds your hand against his chest, in between you. He starts swaying you both slowly as he buries his nose into the side of your head, humming a familiar tune. 

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It's been a long, long time

Haven't felt like this, my dear

Since I can't remember when

It's been a long, long time

You'll never know how many dreams

I've dreamed about you

While he was listening to you go on about how you loved him all throughout your rocky start and even more well into the present– he became overwhelmed with the realization that for once in his life, there was absolutely no doubt in his mind that he is loved. Truly, deeply, and steadily loved. And that filled him with something that nothing and no one could ever define or measure. 

[herstoryheaven]

Descendants James Hook x Reader: Melting Under His Gaze

Request: Hi, me again! You don't have to do this lol, but I was wondering if you could do one where Elsa's daughter / us go to Auradon or more so Merlin Academy and meet James.

Reader: Female

Word count: 4307

Average reading time: 15 min 40 sec

Category: Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: This story contains themes of grief, self-doubt and fear of losing control. If you are sensitive to these topics, please read with care.

Author's note: Due to the time period of the movie, the reader is Elsa's sister instead of daughter.

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Disclaimer: All events portrayed in my stories are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events is purely coincidental. Any actions or behaviours portrayed by the characters may differ from reality and cannot be connected to any actual person. This work is purely fictional and intended for entertainment purposes only.

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Y/n had always known her place in Arendelle. As the middle child, she was neither as responsible as Elsa nor as carefree as Anna. But like Elsa, she was burdened with a secret. The same icy powers coursed through her veins, a frosty magic she was taught to suppress. "Conceal, don't feel." had become her mantra, whispered to herself during sleepless nights and quiet, lonely days.

After the devastating news of their parents' death at sea, the castle felt emptier than ever. The corridors that once echoed with laughter now held only the heavy silence of grief. Elsa, at eighteen, was suddenly thrust into the role of queen, while Y/n, at sixteen, found herself struggling to keep her emotions and her powers in check. Anna, fifteen and still full of youthful innocence, tried her best to lift everyone's spirits, even as she dealt with her own heartbreak.

Tonight, as the sisters sat together in the dim light of the castle’s drawing room, Y/n unfolded a letter she had received earlier that day. The parchment crinkled in her trembling hands, the weight of the words inside pressing down on her.

“What’s that, Y/n?” Anna asked, glancing up from the embroidery she was working on. Her voice was light, but there was a trace of concern in her eyes.

Y/n hesitated, her gaze flickering to Elsa, who sat quietly by the window, lost in thought. Elsa met her eyes and gave a small, almost unnoticable nod. Y/n took a deep breath and forced a smile. “It’s... just something from school.” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

Anna’s face lit up with curiosity. “School? Are they starting classes again? It must be a distraction at least, right?”

Y/n nodded, though her thoughts were far from the normalcy of schoolwork. “Yeah, something like that.”

Anna frowned slightly, sensing something was off, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she returned to her embroidery, her movements slower, more distracted. Y/n could tell that Anna was still struggling with their parents’ death, just as they all were.

As the evening wore on, Anna excused herself, saying she was tired. “I think I’ll head to bed.” she said, standing and stretching. “You two should get some rest too.” She leaned down to hug Elsa first, then Y/n, before slipping out of the room with a soft, “Goodnight.”

The moment the door closed behind Anna, Y/n let out a shaky breath. She unfolded the letter again, staring at the elegant script. “I’ve been accepted to Merlin Academy.” she said quietly, more to herself than to Elsa.

Elsa turned her gaze from the window to Y/n, her expression a mix of pride and concern. “It’s a great opportunity, Y/n. You’ll be able to learn so much about your powers, about yourself.”

Y/n’s voice trembled as she spoke, the fears she had kept buried for so long surfacing in a rush. “But what if I can’t control it, Elsa? What if I hurt someone? What if they find out?”

Elsa stood and crossed the room to sit beside Y/n. She took her sister’s hand in hers, her touch cool but comforting. “I know it’s scary. I feel that fear too, every day. But Merlin Academy is where you’ll be safe. It’s where you’ll learn to control your powers, to understand them. You won’t be alone.”

Y/n nodded, but the doubt lingered. “And what about Anna? She doesn’t know. How can I leave without telling her the truth?”

Elsa’s expression softened with sympathy. “Anna has already lost so much. I think it’s best if we keep this between us, at least for now. She doesn’t need another burden to carry, not right now.”

Y/n’s heart ached at the thought of keeping such a big secret from Anna, but she knew Elsa was right. Anna was already struggling to cope with their parents’ death, adding the truth about their powers might be too much for her to process.

“I’ll write to her often.” Y/n said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll tell her it’s just a regular school. But Elsa... I’m scared.”

Elsa wrapped an arm around Y/n, pulling her close. “I know, Y/n. I’m scared too. But you’re strong, stronger than you think. And no matter what happens, we’ll always have each other.”

Y/n leaned into Elsa’s embrace, drawing strength from her sister’s calm presence. The path ahead seemed intimidating, filled with uncertainty and fear. How could she hide what she was for an entire school year?

-----

When Y/n arrived at Merlin Academy, the grand stone castle seemed to tower over her, its ancient walls full of mysteries and magic. The place was alive with energy, a big contrast to the quiet halls of the castle in Arendelle. Here, students openly showcased their powers and talents without fear. Fire danced on fingertips, water swirled effortlessly, and the earth itself seemed to respond to the commands of one particularly enthusiastic student. But Y/n, true to her promise, kept her powers locked inside, her heart frozen with the weight of her secret.

Everywhere she looked, there was something magical happening, yet Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling of being out of place. Her steps were cautious, her demeanor guarded, as if any wrong move might shatter the fragile control she had over her powers. She avoided the crowds, keeping to the edges of the bustling groups, hoping to remain unnoticed. But she quickly realized that in a place like Merlin Academy, secrets were hard to keep.

It was during one of those early days, as she wandered the academy’s grand gardens alone, that Y/n first encountered James Hook. The moment she saw him, she knew he wasn’t like the other students. He stood out in every possible way. His crimson coat, tailored perfectly to his tall, lean frame, contrasted sharply with his dark hair, which fell in unruly waves just above his sharp, blue eyes. There was a dangerous sort of charm about him, the kind that warned of trouble even as it invited you closer.

Y/n had heard the rumors, of course. Whispers that followed him wherever he went about him being a ruthless pirate, about the lost treasure he was supposedly seeking within the academy’s walls. She knew enough to keep her distance, but it seemed that James had other plans.

While Y/n tried to find a quiet spot to study, she heard a voice behind her, smooth and laced with a hint of amusement. “What’s a delicate thing like you doing all alone out here?”

She turned sharply to find James leaning casually against a tree, his piercing blue eyes locked on her with a gaze that felt almost predatory, yet strangely protective. Her heart raced, a mix of fear and something she couldn’t quite place. 

“I prefer it that way.” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady. “Less… complicated.”

James’s lips curled into a sly smile as he pushed off the tree and came closer, his boots crunching softly on the gravel path. “Less complicated, hm? Or less risky?” He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “You don’t strike me as the type to avoid a little danger.”

Y/n swallowed, instinctively taking a step back. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“Oh, I think you do.” he said, his voice dropping to a low, teasing tone. “I’ve seen you, you know. Always on the outside, watching, but never participating. It’s as if you’re afraid of your own shadow.”

Her heart pounded in her chest. How could he have noticed her when she’d tried so hard to go unnoticed? “I’m not afraid.” she lied, lifting her chin slightly, trying to appear more confident than she felt.

“Is that so?” James mused, stepping even closer until he was just a few feet away. He looked her over, as if trying to unravel the mystery she had so carefully wrapped around herself. “You don’t fool me, Y/n. There’s something different about you. Something… intriguing.”

Y/n’s breath hitched at the way he said her name, like it was a secret only they shared. “What do you want, James?” she asked, trying to keep her voice from trembling.

He smirked, leaning in just enough that she could catch a hint of the sea on his clothes. “Maybe I’m just curious. You don’t seem like the other students. You’re too… restrained. It makes me wonder what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything.” she insisted, her voice sharper than she intended. She could feel the cold creeping into her fingertips, and she clenched her hands into fists, trying to suppress the icy magic that threatened to reveal itself.

James’s eyes flickered down to her clenched fists, a glint of understanding or perhaps amusement crossing his features. “Everyone has something to hide, darling.” he murmured. “The trick is knowing when to reveal it.”

Y/n felt a chill run down her spine, and she stepped back again, desperate to put some distance between them. “I need to go.” she said quickly, turning to leave before he could say anything more.

But James wasn’t one to be dismissed so easily. “I’ll be seeing you around, princess.” he called after her, his voice laced with a promise that made her heart skip a beat.

As she hurried away, Y/n couldn’t shake the feeling that James Hook was more dangerous than she’d first thought and that he had already set his sights on discovering her deepest secret. But there was something else too, something that lingered in the back of her mind, unsettling and confusing her. The way his gaze seemed to see right through her, as if he understood her fear better than anyone else. Y/n found herself questioning whether she could truly keep her powers and her heart, frozen.

-----

One afternoon, Y/n sat near the sea, trying desperately to lose herself in the pages of a book. The rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore had always been a way to calm herself, a place where she could momentarily forget the icy storm brewing inside her. But today, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t escape the thoughts swirling in her mind, the fear, the loneliness, the unbearable weight of her secret.

The book in her hands was just another attempt to distract herself, but the words blurred together as her anxiety crept up, tightening its grip around her chest. Just as she was about to close it in frustration, a shadow fell over her, blocking the sunlight and pulling her back to reality.

She looked up to see James standing before her, his familiar smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was tousled by the sea breeze, and his blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of curiosity and something else, something that made her heart skip a beat, even as her fear bubbled beneath the surface.

“Mind if I join you, princess?” he asked, but without waiting for her response, he settled onto the bench beside her, his presence both comforting and unsettling all at once.

Y/n stiffened, clutching her book tighter as if it could shield her from the emotions threatening to spill over. “I was hoping for some peace and quiet.” she murmured, her voice betraying the fear she was trying so hard to hide.

James leaned back, completely at ease. “Aye, I could tell.” he said, his voice smooth and warm, like honey. “But it’s the quiet ones who always have the most interesting stories.”

She kept her eyes fixed on the book, even though she knew she wouldn’t be able to read another word. “There’s nothing interesting about me.” she replied, her tone flat, hoping to end the conversation before it could begin.

“Is that so, princess?” James raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something more genuine, though no less intense. “I’ve seen the way you look at the others, like you’re afraid to get too close. What are you hiding?”

His words hit her like a punch to the gut. He was getting too close, digging too deep, and Y/n felt her control slipping. She stood up abruptly, the book nearly falling from her grasp. “Nothing that concerns you.” she snapped, her voice sharper than she intended. Panic was clawing at her now, threatening to break free.

But as she turned to leave, James reached out, his hand catching her wrist with a gentle but firm grip. His touch was warm, so different from the cold she carried within. “I think it does concern me.” he said softly, his voice losing its usual playful edge. “I can see it in your eyes, darling. You’re afraid, but of what?”

Y/n tried to pull away, but the warmth of his hand, the sincerity in his gaze, it all made her want to crumble, to let go of the iron grip she had on her emotions. She could feel the cold creeping up her spine, could sense the frost forming on her skin, and she knew she was losing control. “You wouldn’t understand,” she whispered, her voice trembling with the effort to keep herself together.

“Try me.” James urged, stepping closer, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing, almost tender gesture.

But it was too late. The storm inside her was raging, and she could no longer hold it back. The fear, the loneliness, the crushing weight of her secret, all of it surged to the surface. A cold gust of wind whipped around them, and before she could stop it, frost began to spread across the ground, spiraling out from where she stood. The book in her hand fell to the ground, forgotten, as she clutched at her arms, trying to contain the icy power that was slipping out of her control.

“No, no, no…” she whispered, terror lacing her voice as she backed away, but there was nowhere to go. The ice was curling around her like a cage, and she couldn’t stop it. She felt the cold seeping into her bones, the frost creeping up her arms, and she knew she was seconds away from losing herself completely.

But instead of backing away in fear, James stepped closer, his eyes locked on hers, determent. “Y/n.” he called to her, his voice cutting through the chaos in her mind. “Look at me.”

She did, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her vision blurring with unshed tears. The ice crackled and snapped around her, but James wasn’t afraid. He reached out, cupping her face in his hands, the warmth of his touch chasing away the cold that threatened to consume her.

“You don’t have to be afraid.” he said, his voice low and steady, grounding her in the here and now. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/n’s breathing was unstable, the panic still clawing at her insides, but James’s touch, his words, they were like a lifeline pulling her back from the edge. “I—I can’t stop it.” she choked out, the tears finally spilling over and freezing as they fell.

“Yes, you can,” James whispered, leaning in until their foreheads touched, his warmth seeping into her skin, melting the frost that had begun to form. “You can control this, Y/n. I know you can.”

She wanted to believe him, but the fear was still there, gripping her heart in a vise. The cold was still there too, a deadly force she had never been able to fully tame. “I’m going to hurt you.” she whispered, her voice breaking with the weight of her fear.

“You won’t.” James murmured, his thumb brushing away the frozen tear on her cheek. “Not as long as I’m here.”

And then, before she could protest, before the fear could take hold of her again, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both gentle and firm. The world around them seemed to freeze for a moment, literally and figuratively, but then the ice inside her began to melt, slowly, as if his warmth was thawing the cold she had kept locked away for so long.

The kiss deepened, and with it, Y/n felt the storm inside her calm. The frost that had been spreading across the ground withdrawing, the biting cold in her veins dulled, and the panic that had consumed her began to fade. All she could feel was James, his warmth, his strength, the way he held her like she was something precious, not something to be feared.

When they finally pulled apart, James rested his forehead against hers, their breaths mingling in the cool air. “You’re not alone anymore, love.” he whispered, his voice full of quiet determination. “You never have to be.”

Y/n let out a shaky breath, her heart finally starting to slow to a normal rhythm. The ice inside her had faded, leaving only a faint chill that she could handle. She looked up at James, searching his eyes for any hint of fear or regret, but all she saw was warmth and an unexpected tenderness that made her want to cry all over again.

“Thank you.” she whispered, her voice still trembling but stronger than before.

“Anything for you, princess.” he replied with a soft smile, stealing one more kiss that made her feel a warmth she hadn’t known in years.

As the warmth of James’s kiss lingered on Y/n’s lips, the tension that had build up inside her began to loosen. The frost on the ground had melted away, leaving only damp patches where the ice had once spread. For a moment, the world felt still, as if holding its breath with her. But reality crept back in, the weight of what had just happened settling heavily on her shoulders.

Y/n took a shaky step back, her hand still entwined with James’s, but her mind already racing with a thousand thoughts. What had she just done? She had lost control, let her powers loose in a way that could have endangered him, and yet… he wasn’t afraid. Not only that, he had calmed her, brought her back from the brink, something no one had ever been able to do before.

“James,” she began, her voice hesitant as she tried to find the right words. “I… I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I could have—”

He silenced her with a gentle kiss on her hand, his eyes soft as they met hers. “You don’t have to apologize, Y/n.” he said, his voice steady, reassuring. “I told you, you don’t have to hide from me. I’m not afraid of what you can do.”

His words were like a balm to her unsettling nerves, but they also stirred something deeper within her,something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in a long time, hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe, she didn’t have to carry this burden alone anymore.

“But you should be.” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of the waves. “Everyone else is. They always have been. Just like they have been of Elsa… She tried to protect me, to help me, but I could see it in her eyes. She was scared too.”

James’s expression softened even more, his gaze filled with understanding. “People fear what they don’t understand, love. But I’m not like them. I see you, really see you. And I’m not going anywhere, other then being by your side.”

Y/n felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest. She wanted to believe him, wanted to hold onto the warmth he offered, but the fear was still there, gnawing at the edges of her mind. “But what if I lose control again? What if I hurt someone?”

“You won’t.” James said firmly, his grip on her hand tightening just enough to ground her. “Not as long as I’m here with you. We’ll figure this out together, okay? You don’t have to do this alone.”

The sincerity in his voice, the confidence he had in her, was almost overwhelming. Y/n felt the last of her defenses crumble as she nodded slowly, her heart aching with a mixture of fear and gratitude. “Okay.” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

James smiled, a genuine, warm smile that made her heart flutter in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time. “Good ” he said, pulling her into a gentle embrace. She hesitated for a moment before leaning into him, letting herself be held, letting herself feel safe.

For a few minutes, they stayed like that, the sound of the waves crashing softly in the background, the world seeming to fade away. Y/n felt herself relax more with each passing second, the ice within her settling into a quiet, manageable calm. 

But as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the shore, Y/n knew they couldn’t stay here forever. She pulled back slightly, looking up at James with a mixture of resolve and uncertainty. “What now?” she asked quietly.

James tilted his head, considering her for a moment before responding. “Now,” he said, “if we’re going to figure all this out, maybe it’s time you started practicing, really using your powers.”

Y/n held her breath, her eyes widening slightly as she looked at him. “You mean… now? Out here?” The idea of intentionally using her powers, after everything that had just happened, sent a shiver down her spine, but not entirely from fear. There was a part of her, buried deep, that longed to be free, to see what she could truly do.

James nodded, his expression earnest. “Why not? You’ve been holding back for so long, love. What if you tried letting go, just a little? You don’t have to be afraid. I’ll be right here.”

His encouragement, so simple yet so powerful, struck a chord within her. Maybe he was right. Maybe it was time to stop hiding, to stop fearing herself. She took a deep breath, feeling the familiar cold rise within her, but this time, she didn’t push it away. She let it fill her, let it flow through her veins like a river of ice.

“Okay.” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation of the cold, on the power that had always been a part of her. The air around her began to chill, the wind picking up as she let the ice take form.

James stepped back slightly, giving her space, but his eyes never left her. There was no fear in his gaze, only wonder and something that looked very much like admiration. “Don't fight it.” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “Just feel the ice course through you and work with it, not against it.”

Encouraged by his words, Y/n opened her eyes, her heart pounding as she raised her hands, palms facing down toward her clothes. With a gentle flick of her fingers, the cold surged outward, wrapping around her like a second skin. The fabric of her clothes shimmered and began to change, the colors deepening into a rich, icy blue. The material lengthened and flowed like water, forming into a dress that sparkled with the light of a thousand tiny snowflakes. The bodice hugged her figure, intricate patterns of frost weaving themselves into the fabric, while the skirt flared out in an elegant, sweeping train. Even her shoes transformed, the delicate heels now made of glistening ice, as strong and tough as winter itself.

When she finally lowered her hands, Y/n could hardly believe what she had done. She stared down at herself, at the beautiful dress she had created, and for the first time, she felt a sense of pride in her powers, in who she was.

James, who had watched the entire transformation in awed silence, let out a low whistle. “Y/n.” he breathed, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “You… you look absolutly stunning, I have never had the honor to be in the pressence of such a beautiful and powerful woman.”

His words made her blush, the warmth of his gaze almost overwhelming. She glanced up at him, suddenly shy, but the way he looked at her, like she was something you would only read about, made her heart skip a beat. “Thank you.” she said softly, her voice tinged with a mixture of gratitude and disbelief.

James took a step closer, his eyes never leaving hers. “You should never have to hide this, Y/n. You’re amazing, and what you can do… it’s indescribable how beautiful it is.”

Y/n felt her breath catch in her throat. No one had ever spoken to her like this, had ever made her feel like her powers were something to be celebrated rather than feared. The sincerity in James’s voice, the way he looked at her with such affection, it was almost too much to take in.

He reached out, gently taking her hand in his. The warmth of his touch melted the last of her doubts, and she found herself smiling, really smiling, for the first time in what felt like forever. “I don’t know what to say.” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You don’t have to say anything.” James replied, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a gesture that sent a thrill through her. “Just remember this feeling. This is who you are, Y/n. Not the fear, not the doubt, this.”

The intensity of his words, the raw honesty in his eyes, made Y/n’s heart swell. Without thinking, she stepped closer, drawn to him by something she couldn’t quite name. And when James didn’t pull away, when he instead cupped her face with that same gentle touch, she knew, this was where she was meant to be. Y/n found herself glancing at James, feeling something new, a warmth that had nothing to do with her powers and everything to do with him.

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Requested by: @GlitchyDaRat

[rintoshis-archived]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐃 - ft. miles morales

🀄、pairings: miles morales x reader warnings: mentions of paranoia, death, mentions of blood, slightly angsty, fluff at the end, slow burn, legit doesn't make total sense, not proofread, lyric references, venom, profanities, kissing (nothing smutty), mentions of gwen and hobie, poor spanish (blame duolingo...), with translations, no actual current plot of atsv, own plot, might not make sense if you didn't watch the movie, mutants, giants, mentions of skinned bodies, false accusations, arguments, a lot more within these lines, peter being a bad mentor, involves miguel, margo, peter. w/c: 4,297 notes; i really did not expect this to be long ... but yeah! this might not make sense and there might be whole lotta ooc BUT THIS IS MY PLOT I DO WHAT I WANT RAHHHH 🤣🤣🔥🔥 anyways i didn't know what i went with the storyline but there are a lot of depressing moments here ... i hope y'all are ok btw .. okay bye ily

'SOMETHING BAD IS 'BOUT TO HAPPEN TO ME' You thought. Your paranoia didn't help you sleep at night, the empty feeling of always being secluded from the world. Your dimension didn't have any Spider-people, and in contrast to Miles's dimension; it was harder to pick yourself up and fight for the city.

The feeling of cold sheets wrapping around your limbs, the fabric only bringing you more comfort. His smell lingered on your pillows, his jacket hanging on the back of your door. You didn't wanna leave Miles. The banging headache raised when you cried for the rest of the night, tears flowing down your cheek.

This might be pathetic, sure. But you weren't happy with the world you were born into. You missed the vibrant city of Miles's dimension, the moments you spent together to train him to become the best Spiderman of the century. You could only laugh at that thought.

Your eyes are glued onto your ceiling, the empty white color reflecting your current mind. Hell, if you could go back; you would. Your eyes close heavily, and the feeling of your hot eyelids resting on your eyes.

'I DON'T KNOW IT BUT I FEEL IT COMING.' The returning feeling of being helpless, a deep voice circulating in your mind. As much as you didn't wanna admit it, you were fragile. The Spider that bit you wasn't as ordinary as you thought. That goes without saying; Miles got bit by an unordinary spider, too. But something about that insect made it a little more special than other Spider origins.

The Spider actually talked to you. Its venom projects into your blood cells, infesting your mind and body. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs-'' If you could spray bug repellent inside of your head, you would've done it already. The echoing voice inside of your brain didn't subside even after you've covered your ears with pillows.

You were restless. Your spider suit resting on your chair. The radio your dad previously had woken you from your slumber, the screams and sounds of innocent people screaming, a cop reporting for backup.

''This is Agent- Shit! Get away- We need backup, now! Call for the nearest-'' The voice cuts off, only leaving you with the sound of a broken stereo. Out of instinct, your webs sling the radio to your hands, turning some of the knobs to get more surface of the situation.

Nothing comes out, the last person who reported to the station was that 'Agent'. You hop out of bed, took the suit, and quickly put it on. You contemplated for a while, but the sudden shiver of guilt only awoken the voice that whispered in your ear. ''The city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you, the city needs you.''

The sounds of police car's sirens echoed in the street, a building being griefed by an explosion. Big claws and bloodied cement was the scenery when you arrived. You heard a lady scream in an alleyway, and all of the police cars emptied out of people. No cop was left alive, they were all skinned out of their bodies.

''G-Get away from me!'' The lady's voice stung your Spider-sense, the sound of big feet stepping towards the lady. You were on the walls, peeking at the villain. It had a broad back, spikes decorating its spine, and green and vibrant reptile skin. You land on the floor, attaching your webs to the spikes of its back. ''You heard the lady.''

Your webs were strong enough to pull the reptile back, jumping high to let it sling behind you. A loud thud could be heard miles away, the cement of the building cracking from the giant's impact. You approach the lady, putting two hands up. ''Are you okay?''

The lady's eyes widened while looking behind you, your spider sense didn't detect the big chunk of cement that was coming your way. Your hands almost act instinctively, grabbing ahold of the cement before it crushed the two of you.

Your webs threw the brick back, crumbling on the body of the reptile. ''You should run.'' you flash a small smile of assurance to the lady, webbing the two buildings to get closer to the villain. Your eyes catch a small glimpse of a black and red suited person in the sky, spider sense tingling at the sight. Your head turns to the building where it landed, getting distracted from what was in front of you.

''Move!'' A voice echoes from the roof of the building, your head quickly turns back to the lizard, his hands almost grabbing a hold of you. A sudden bolt of lightning almost blinded you, causing your eyes to close at the brightness.

A huge hole in the sky opens, the edges of it being coated with pink, purple, and hints of green. It looked like it glitched into the sky, with strings of what looked like webs inside of it. Miles had already electrocuted the lizard for a short time, as he approached you.

''Y/N! I'm here!'' His hands wrap around your torso, feeling your warmth over your suit. ''Miles?'' Your hands wrap around his neck, pulling him into a hug. ''H-how are you here? What the fuck is that?'' You ask of the hole in the sky, some of the cars and poles flying inside of it.

''Listen, we need to go.'' His hands grab yours, webbing to the closet rooftop. ''No... No! I need to see my aunt-'' Your eyes widen, his hands pulling you into the black hole. Your argument with your aunt didn't lull even after the 'talk' you both had.

''¡Dios mío, Y/N! Te lo dije una vez, dos veces, trice! Y no nos escuchaste ni a mí ni a tu mamá!'' (Oh my gosh, Y/N! I told you once, twice, thrice! And you didn't listen to me or your mom!) Your hands slam the door on your aunt, refusing to continue this talk with your aunt. You had just lost your dad, you couldn't save him from that stupid mutant that appeared right in your dad's station house. Your dad's friends whom you even considered your own; dead before your eyes, bodies laying and pierced in her stomachs. ''Do not slam that door on me, we are not done!'' Your aunt opens your door with pressure, her words poisoning the whole room. ''Tía, yo también te lo dije un millón de veces!'' (Aunt, I told you a million times too!) It wasn't your fault. It wasn't your fault that your dad still wanted to be the hero even when he can't. It was his fault. ''¿Cuántas veces tengo que decir esto? You can't be meddling in the policía's jobs! You killed your-'' (How many times do I have to say this?) ''Get out!'' Your webs shut your door with force, webbing the door handle closed. ''No entiendes, tía, I didn't kill Papa!'' (You don't understand, Aunt) ''You just don't understand, Y/N! Your mom is crying, the whole police is after you! They think you murdered your father! You need to stop, Y/N. You are not the 'hero' of this city!'' Your auntie bangs on your door, but your hands remain on your ears, cuddled up to your pillow.

It 'MIGHT BE SO SAD, MIGHT LEAVE MY NOSE RUNNING.' You couldn't leave your auntie, and your mom didn't stop crying, she stopped coming to her job and didn't speak to anyone else.

'I JUST HOPE SHE DON'T WANNA LEAVE ME.' Those words ring inside of Miles's head, he had already fought his battle with Miguel just to see you again, and he was willing to go through it all over again.

''Listen, your aunt will be fine! You'll be safe there!'' Miles tries to pull you in, and you let him. You take his words and put them inside of your heart. The feeling of being airborne in the galaxy takes over your senses, a huge tube leading you both into another portal. Your hands tremble inside Miles's grasp.

You both land in an elevator, a platform bringing you to up top.

His thumb rubs your skin, hoping to have calmed you down. You both fall into an elevator, Miles's hands still intertwined with yours. ''I should probably explain, huh?'' You didn't respond, your mind almost wandering away staring at the wall. ''Y/N?'' When the warmth of Mile's skin leaves yours, your head turns to him.

''Did you say something?'' ''Yeah... Did you listen?'' ''No... Sorry, could you repeat that?'' You hear Miles sigh, his hands knotted with each other to his chest. ''Well, Miguel wanted me to pick you up... Kinda.'' Your head tilts a little, and a tinge of unsureness laced Miles's words. ''Kinda?'' You ask, almost surveying him. ''Well I did kinda sneak out and asked Margo to take me to your dimension but that's not the important part!''

Miles raises his hands as if it were for defense and you laugh. ''You're so stupid.'' You nudge his shoulder. ''Why'd you take me here-'' You feel almost a big punch in your stomach as if you'd glitched out in a game. ''Woah!'' Miles panicked, rummaging through his pockets. You were surprised he had put pockets in his suit. Maybe you have to do that, sometime.

''I forgot to give you this.'' He takes your hand before you glitch out again and put on the bracelet on your wrist. Nausea stopped, feeling a little bit better from the piece of silicone around your skin. You laugh a little, seeing Miles's panicked expression even from over his mask. You took off your own mask, breathing in some air. ''So.. Why'd you take me here?''

Miles took off his, too. ''Well, I missed you, of course.'' A window appears behind you both, the land seemingly upside down. ''Woah...'' ''We're in Nueva York.'' The door opens, and Miles captures your hands in his, leading you to the upside-down hallways.

''T-there's so many...'' You didn't expect almost a hundred- maybe more Spider-people. All of them were different, some were on wheelchairs, some were riding horses, and some were incubated in a yellow-orange barrier.

After what seemed like a million light-years, you both reached a dark part of the building, a girl who seemed like she was purple waved at you two and started working back on her computer.

''Miles Morales.'' A dark voice grew out of the dark, a floating platform lowering from the sky. ''Miguel, we're back.'' ''Another outsider.'' Miguel turned to face you both, the man looked like he hadn't slept in years. You frown at his comment, he didn't know who you were.

''Miguel O'Hara, this is Y/N L/N.''

An infant webbed around the room and caught you three off-guard. ''Mayday! Good job Honey!'' A man with a baby carrier enters the room, phone pointed at the child. Mayday, cute name. You smile at the sight of a cute baby webbing freely, she'll be a good Spiderwoman when she grows up. ''Miles! I haven't seen you in so long!'' The man put his phone back in his pocket, putting two of his hands on your shoulders.

''Peter!'' ''Miles! Hey, bud! Who's this?'' Peter smiles at you, and you give him another smile back. ''I'm Y/N.'' You shook his hand, and he immediately pulled away to catch Mayday. She was climbing on Miguel, a funny sight to see. You didn't fail to see how Miguel was so... Muscular. His webs looked different, it looked like it glowed with a orange light.

You knew to not fuck with him, especially when he was the only one in the room who didn't wear a bracelet to keep him from not glitching out. ''Y/N L/N. You must know what kind of place this is, I assume?'' Miguel says, capturing Mayday in his hands. Miles looked at you, slight panic arising in his eyes.

''Uhm, I brought her here. She can help me, Hobie, and Gwen-'' ''There are enough problems that I have to deal with. Put her back, Morales.'' You didn't know who Hobie or Gwen was, but Miles mentioned that they went on missions together. That Miguel had a foul mouth, for sure.

''You've caused enough shit, Morales! The start of the spot, breaking a canon event, and even rebelling against my rules!'' Miguel webbed down to the floor and threw a bomb on the floor. Once it hit your foot, it opened up a dome.

''What the fuck-'' You try banging on the walls, the sounds outside almost being muffled from the inside. ''Miles!'' ''Enough is enough, Morales. I guess I'll have to send you both back then.'' You see Miles trying to bargain with Miguel, but Peter interrupts. ''Miguel, loosen up pal. Let them experience their puppy love in the HQ, gosh they're so cute together-'' Miguel shoots a web to Peter's mouth and put him in a dome as well.

'DON'T YOU GIVE ME UP, PLEASE DON'T GIVE UP.' These words fill your mind, still trying to get out of the barrier. Your words couldn't reach Miles as he backed up beside you, his hands on the dome. ''Miguel, for someone who's the so-called 'master' of HQ, you really don't know how to stop making the same mistake all over again.''

Miles shatters the projected dome and takes your hand to escape out of the HQ. Peter waves at you both as a goodbye, seemingly proud of Miles for what he did. ''You're a bad mentor,'' Miguel says, chasing you both. The dome fades away, and Peter takes off the web on his mouth. Peter grabs Mayday's pacifier and put it in her mouth. ''Let's go, honey!'' Peter chasing you both.

''If I would've known we'd be running from a Headmaster of an HQ full of Spider-people, I would've come prepared, Miles.'' You two web from wall to wall, knocking some people over and leaving them with a short 'sorry'.

''It's not like- Woah-! I planned this to happen!'' You laugh at his words, keeping up with his pace. ''You can't let me leave you in the dust, Miles!'' You pass Miles, but he quickly catches up. ''I won't!'' He grabs your hand and slings you on his back, sticking onto him like a koala. You both giggle a bit while making your way to Margo. ''I missed you... I missed... Us.''

You rest your head on Miles's shoulder. ''What you said earlier... Who's Hobie and Gwen?'' ''Some friends of mine.'' You smile, kissing his cheek. ''Gwen, huh?'' Miles laughs at the pout that he felt on his skin, ''HONEY, I BELONG WITH YOU AND ONLY YOU, BABE.'' Miles's words made you smile as you both land in Margo's office, seeing her work away on her computer.

''Miles. What did you do now?'' Margo didn't look back, she already knew what you both wanted. ''Send us back to my world,'' Miles says, but your eyes almost want to disagree with him. Miles notices the slight worry in your eyes, he only captures your hands in response.

You knew you'd always wanted to go to Mile's dimension and spend time with him and Mrs. Morales. ''Alright. But I can't guarantee you'll be able to go back to HQ in one piece.'' Margo stated, her spider was already ready for you both.

''Miles, why are you doing this to yourself?'' Margo asks, as you both hop on the platform, hands still in his. ''I JUST DON'T WANT HER TO LEAVE ME.'' Margo only rolls her eyes with a smile and started her machine. The spider started knitting a cocoon around you two, and your hands tighten in nervousness.

''It'll be okay. As long as you have that bracelet, we can live together forever, happily.'' Miles reassures you, tucking hair behind your ear. Miles snakes a hand around your waist and pulls you in for a kiss once the spider finished webbing.

Miguel and Peter could only stare at you both, Peter looking like he was lovestruck. Peter's hands rest on Mayday's eyes while Miguel only rubs his temples. ''Oi! No lovey-dovey in the machine!'' Margo teases before it teleports you both.

A FEW MONTHS AFTER ...

''Miles, Y/N! Dinner!'' ''Innaminute!'' Miles screams out while you two were playing on a PS4 in the living room. Lieutenant Morales watched you two, occasionally taking photos of you both. ''That's unfair!'' You laugh at Mile's whining when you threw a banana on the road, causing his character to slip.

''See 'ya! Eat my dust!'' Miles bit his lip in concentration, leaning his body on where his character would go, bumping into each other. ''Dinner is getting cold, you three!'' Mrs. Morales approaches you three in the living room, catching her husband taking a video of you two playing games.

Her head rests on his shoulder, smiling at the view. ''Amor de cachorro, eh?''(Puppy love, huh?) Mr. Morales laughs and kisses his own wife once you two finally finished the game. You jump in celebration, laughing at Miles's frown. ''I won! I thought you were the best of this game-'' Miles grabs your hand and pulls you into his lap, kissing your lips.

Once Miles's parents finished smooching Mr. Morales interrupts you both. ''Oi! No kissing in the house!'' You smile on Miles's lips before pulling away from his lap. ''I'm hungry.'' ''Let's go eat?'' ''Race 'ya there!'' ''No fair!'' ''Don't run in the house!''

Because in the day, you both are just teenagers attending school, but at night you both have duties to save the city.

woahwoah this was so long ... ‧₊˚ ⋅ fusaes 2023 do not copy

[questionableratatouille00]

𝘿𝙞𝙚, 𝘿𝙞𝙚 (𝙒𝙚 𝘼𝙡𝙡 𝙋𝙖𝙨𝙨 𝘼𝙬𝙖𝙮)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x immortal!reader

Summary: You struggle to come to terms with what your future will mean with Bucky. (I started with a goofy thing going on and then I got poetic. 🤷)

Warnings: death, talks of death, talks of old age, grief, crying, general sorrow. Happy Halloween?

He knew death was a hard subject for you. Halloween, whilst a fun and goofy excuse to eat too much sugar and put up skeletons and pumpkins everywhere, was the bane of your existence.

In your own words, it was ‘just a day for everyone to flex their mortality’ at you. You were immortal. Cannot be killed, will not die.

It was a miserable existence.

Bucky didn’t mind the lack of scary movies and decorations. He wasn’t a fan of scary stuff anyway.

“Doll, I’ve had enough scary in my life.” He’d said when you’d explained your aversion to the holiday.

But this year, you were even more miserable than usual.

You sat on the floor of your bedroom, just..staring at the floor. Lost in thought.

“May I?” Bucky said from the doorframe, pointing with his foot to the ground next to you.

You nodded.

He sat down, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Sensing that you were about to cry, he began to comfort you.

“S’okay. S’okay. I’m here. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He murmured softly.

“Neither am I. Well, you knew that. Immortality.” You sighed. He nods slowly.

His eyes closed, and he felt comfortable like that. Feeling your body heat against his, he almost smiled. He could finally relax. He missed you, he missed you being in his arms.

"I don't want you gone." He muttered quietly. It was clear that he meant it. He needed you, he needed your warm and bright presence in his life.

“It’s not fair.” Your eyes began to water.

He frowned, looking down at you, squeezing you tighter against his side. His thumb rubbed up and down against your arm. “What’s not fair, sweetheart?”

“You get to love me for the rest of your life, and I get to miss you for the rest of mine?” You looked up at him.

His heart shattered into tiny pieces as you said those words.

"Doll, don't say it like that." He muttered quietly, almost in a whisper, his voice clearly wavering. The thought of him gone and you missing him was hell, he would hate if you were grieving and miserable for the rest of your immortal life. It would be torture.

“That’s what it is. That’s what it will be.” You shook your head.

His jaw clenched at what you said, but he had no response. He couldn't argue with that, you were right. He had a lifespan and you didn't, and someday he would be gone.

"Don't talk like that." He quietly muttered back, feeling his throat tighten. He could feel his eyes starting to get watery, but he refused to cry. They burned and so did his throat, but he tried his best to push it down.

"I don't want you missing me." He whispered, his hold around you tightening slightly.

“How could I not? Bucky, I miss you when you go to the bathroom for five minutes. For the rest of forever? Till the sun explodes and then after?” You can feel yourself beginning to weep.

He didn't have an answer to your question, what could he say? Nothing.

He didn't want to think of his future, he didn't want to think of leaving you behind, of you being left alone in future. It hurt to even think of it. His throat tightened even more, and he bit the inside of his cheek as he pulled you even closer, trying his best to not cry.

“I’ll love you even then, know that. I know the serum makes you live longer, I think, but you’ll still age eventually. I’ll love you even then. Wrinkly and saggy and gray and frail. Even then.” Your tone was light as you looked away from him, looking straight ahead as the tears began to drip.

His eyes closed as he held back the tears. Your words hit harder, just as you described what he feared the most. He hated the thought of getting old.

"You'll still love me, even then?" He quietly asked in response, his voice barely audible. He didn't know if he actually wanted an answer.

A part of him just wanted to bury his face into your shoulder and hide there forever, to feel safe and secure in your arms.

“Of course.” Your eyes are so watery. “I’ll let you lean on me and we’ll dance every night. Or we’ll sway. Whatever you can do. And I’ll make sure you take your medicine, and that you can eat the food I’d make for dinner. And I’ll carry you everywhere you can’t go.”

He felt the wetness forming in his eyes, but he still held the tears back. He didn't want to show any sort of weakness, but he was weak around you. His heart felt like it was shattering with each word you said.

He was going to miss this.

He missed your gentle voice, he missed your presence, he missed the feeling of being vulnerable with you. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his arms tightening around your body, holding you as close as he could.

You hold him tightly. “I’m scared, Buck. I’m so scared. What if I forget your voice?”

His heart sunk further, and he held onto you as tight as he could. He hated what you were saying, he hated how it made his stomach twist.

"Don't say that, doll." His voice was quiet, his heart breaking. He feared the same, he feared you forgetting his voice, his face, anything about him, if you knew your memory was perfect, he couldn't be too careful.

"I'll record my voice for you." He whispered, his voice muffled against your neck.

“And your smell? And your eyes? Oh, please don’t let me forget your eyes.” You sob.

He gripped the fabric of the back of your shirt, his heart shattering at your tears, hearing you sob. He could feel his throat tightening, his eyes watering, and his breathing becoming shaky against your neck.

He hated this feeling.

He was helpless, powerless.

"You won't, you won't forget any of it." Please God, I don't want you to forget me, his heart was screaming at him.

It was his worst nightmare, his chest tightened as he felt your words. There were so many 'what-ifs.' He hated it, it was killing him.

"You won't." He muttered, swallowing the lump in his throat, the tears were dangerously close to falling. He hated seeing you cry, he hated the 'what-if' situation.

He just closed his eyes, holding onto you as hard as he could, as if you would leave otherwise.

“Okay.” You nodded slowly. “Okay.” If he said so, you believed him.

He didn't want to argue anymore, he couldn't. He could barely think, but he felt himself crying against your neck.

He didn't want to lose you, not now, not later. He couldn't, he just couldn't. Even the thought alone was painful. But it was going to be okay. You’d stay with him. You’d be there. You’d hold his hand when he goes. That was a comforting thought.

And that just had to be enough.

Graphics by @saradika-graphics

[irondad-defensesquad]

My Irondad fic recs!

I thought of doing this because why not? Admittedly, I'm not reading as much fanfiction as I did a couple years ago, but some fics have changed my life entirely. In case I forgot one, I'll add it later!

I would’ve organized this in a bullet list, but Tumblr hates me and invented a character limit for that. So this is going to be long and will be under the cut. Anyway, let’s do this!

Rare and Sweet As Cherry Wine by loubuttons – I've mentioned this one before, but this fic right here was what inspired me to write my own Irondad works. One very particular detail I like about it is how it portrays Maria, Tony's mother. It's not what I usually see in other fics about Tony's childhood, since they tend to make Howard the big bad parent. Of course, this is because I personally related to it, as I don't believe in the "bad parent vs. good parent". I also like that it praises Edwin Jarvis as the one who looked out for Tony the most. It's pretty realistic and a very melancholic character study, IMO. *TW for abuse and neglect*

You're Always Iron Man by madasthesea – a very short fic but I absolutely love the premise. Takes place after the big battle in Iron Man 2, and Tony finds little Peter again. They have a very endearing interaction. The following chapter is also very cute!

Nothing like a fresh cup of humiliation in the morning by madasthesea – Pure fluff! This one is probably a classic in the Irondad fandom. Tony kisses Peter's forehead without second thought. Shenanigans ensue. It's so adorable and funny. If you just want to read fluff without angst, this one is for you.

when my body won't hold me anymore (where will I go) by madasthesea - I think I heard about this fic thanks to @/irondadfics here on Tumblr, but I might be wrong since I already knew the Nice work, kid series. Anyway, Peter is believed to be dead, so Tony (and the rest of the Avengers team) is mourning him. In reality, Peter is astral projecting. You know, sort of like how Stephen Strange, in his first movie, was fighting a guy in the other dimension while his body on Earth was struggling to live. That's basically what happens. Strange appears, of course, and saves the day. And I pretty much LOVE the presumed dead trope. I don't know why. Maybe it's the angst of it all. *TW for grief/mourning and temporary character death*

The Reason by doctornineandthreequarters – I think I read this one when I was still writing Oh, take me back to the start. I was looking for fics for inspiration, and I found this one. During the Time Heist in Endgame, Tony remembers the reason he's fighting to bring everyone else back. It's very emotional.

Couch Cuddles by happyaspie – Classic sickfic, but with more fluff than anything. I like rereading it when I feel lonely and touch-starved, especially when I'm also sick like Peter.

You’re So Much Like Me (I’m Sorry) by SpaceCowboysFromMars – Irondad + Miles Morales! Peter is an adult in this, and he freaks out when an injured Miles arrives in his apartment. Tony gives him some wisdom about mentoring and parenting. I don’t usually find Irondad stories featuring Miles (and not necessarily a Spider-Verse crossover), so this was a nice discovery. Peter & Miles & Tony is a very underrated trio IMO. *TW for slight gore*

I'm Glad I Have You by punkybunny – Peter has been having a rough time, dealing with loneliness as Aunt May is not home often, and with bullying at school... until he finally has the chance to spend time with Tony. However, the demons don't disappear completely. Obviously, more Hurt/Comfort, lmao. *TW for nightmare/bad dream*

I Want to Trust You by punkybunny – Actually part of a series that, admittedly, I haven't read all the other stories. But even this one is a very interesting concept on its own. This is a Hydra Peter AU, after Peter has been rescued. He gets sick but given his past in Hydra, he thinks Tony is going to get angry. Peter is proven wrong when Tony helps him get better. The ending is very adorable. I'll see if I can read the rest of the series one day. *TW for past abuse and experimentation*

what you think I've done wrong by ironxprince – I don't often read Biodad stories as you all know, but I was, again, looking for inspiration for You keep me searching for a heart of gold, and I stumbled across this one. Basically Peter, as Tony's biological son, finally meets Howard. It goes as well as you think /sarcasm. *TW for physical abuse*

i, in time, will climb my mountain by ironxprince – This one is heavy. Once again, Peter is Tony's bio son, and he's suicidal. Every time Peter attempts suicide, he buys a new plant. Tony doesn't know this, so he's confused as to why there are so many plants in their house. I love this one, but of course, I try to read it when I’m not having a really bad day. *Once again, TW for suicide attempts*

how do you get that lonely (and nobody knows?) by parkrstark – Yeah... another heavy one. Peter attempts suicide but he saves himself before he reaches the ground. With that, he goes to Tony. This ends happily, don't worry. *TW for suicide attempt*

When You Can't Sleep by Emily_F6 – Pretty much Tony comforting a sleepy Peter, who has just had a nightmare about Thanos. Just Hurt/Comfort and domestic fluff. *TW for mention of death*

i get by (but it's eating me alive) by Livinei – Honestly, I think this is the BEST May's Abusive Boyfriend story I've ever read. For one, none of the characters are oblivious nor dismissive of Peter's feelings. May isn't neglectful and Ned actually tries to encourage Peter to tell someone. I also like that Peter isn't completely helpless. I don't usually see those things in other fics with this trope, sadly. And of course, Protective Tony is my weakness. *TW for emotional and physical abuse*

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea – Post-Endgame where Tony is alive, and Peter and Tony are both trying to cope, so they rely on each other. Pure Hurt/Comfort.

A Tremendous Thing by ExpectoPatronum – Possibly one of my favorite Irondad stories EVER. Also post-Endgame with Alive Tony (though the author better explains it in the notes, it's supposed to be part of a series, but this story can be read on its own). There are a lot of references to Charlotte's Web if you're familiar with it. Basically, it's Father's Day and Peter is feeling guilty and out of place at Tony's lake house, even though everyone is readily trying to include him. It's absolutely beautiful and painful.

Hug You I Must by spiderwriting (catch_you_later) – Probably one of the first touch-starved Peter fics I've read. I like how it describes touch-starvation as this "itchy" current in your body, something that makes you anxious. Thankfully, Peter gets his hug later on. Plus there are some Star Wars references (the title probably is one, lol). *There's some minor violence here when Peter is fighting off some bad guys, but not the focus of the fic*

When You're There With No One There To Hold, I'll Be The Arms That Reach For You by Squibbles94 – Another touch-starved Peter fic. But I really like the references to Cast Away. Ironically I saw this movie in the same year the author published this fic (dare I say SHORTLY after it was posted). I also had no idea that Cast Away was entirely about isolation. Gosh, the main character's monologue at the end ALWAYS gets to me... anyway, yeah, the peak of the pandemic was awful to me, so reading fics like this one helped tons. It still does.

I am cold by N/A (orphan account) – Peter tries to visit Tony, but he gets lost in a subway tunnel on a freezing day. Eventually we learn why Peter wanted to see Tony, but overall this is mainly domestic fluff. Everything ends well.

Sorry Pedro by PinkEasterEggs – One of the first Irondad fics I read. Peter has a nightmare about Homecoming (mainly Toomes), but he avoids waking Tony for that reason. But thanks to F.R.I.D.A.Y's protocols, Peter goes to his mentor. Tony is also super soft here and it makes my heart swoon.

you are enough by diaz_evan – Another post-Endgame fic. Arguably I began reading Irondad fics only after Endgame released. Anyway, this one is short, kinda sad but it ends well. It’s Tony’s birthday and Peter feels very anxious about what to get him as a present. Thankfully, he doesn’t need to prove his love for Tony. *TW for panic attack*

Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Stark by downeylove – There are a lot of Father’s Day fics for these two, of course, but this one takes the cake for me. It’s simple but very endearing to me. Tony obviously doesn’t have good memories of this day, but Peter changes that for the first time. It’s really cute. Plus, Pepper is here, and I love her. I wish I could read more of her interacting with Peter. *TW for mentions of alcoholism and past child abuse*

5 Times Peter Didn’t Say He Was Struggling… And The One Time He Did by Bladam_Shevine – Again, an old fic I read years ago. I admit I haven’t re-read it in a while, but I remember enjoying it and even saving it to read offline. It’s basically what it says in the title: Peter struggles in many ways and he initially refuses help. Tony is always there to reassure him he can count on him. Bruce is here if you like him! And MJ helps Peter on one of the chapters as well. The chapters might get heavier as they go, but it ends on a hopeful note. *TW for injury, panic attack, suicide attempt (it doesn’t involve Peter), and depression*

The Good Days and the Bad by SoupGirlLovesSoup - Peter has had a bad day, now he's cuddling with Tony. It takes a while before Peter finally tells him what happened. It gets sad, but it's mostly fluff and it ends hopefully. I love re-reading it when I need the comfort. *TW for mention of suicide attempt, depression, and bullying*

Breathe Again by gwenoakley - Post-Endgame where Tony survives. He's recovering in the hospital and Peter finally reunites with him. Before that, though, we can feel the anxiety and trauma Peter feels. Definitely makes me emotional. It's the ending they deserved.

Popsicles and Playgrounds by ironfamjam - I can't believe I forgot to save this one in my bookmarks. I used to re-read this all the time! It's an AU where MIT student Tony meets a kid Peter. Eventually, Tony becomes Peter's babysitter! This is part of a series, which I still have to read fully. It's such a wholesome idea!! <3 *Howard's bad parenting is mostly mentioned*

Well, for now this is it! Again, I might add more fics here. I think I also could make a list of what particular concepts I want to read more in Irondad stories, so maybe you guys could give me your own recs. I might try to resume my habit of reading Irondad fics, because they give me a lot of comfort. Thanks for reading this far! I hope you enjoy any of the stories I included.

(I'm aware some authors here have their accounts on Tumblr, but I didn't want to annoy anyone by tagging them, so yeah 😅)

EDIT (June 4th, 2024): What Irondad fics I would like to read!

[spdraws]

All of my current Leverage and Leverage Redemption headcanons!!!!!

• Every night, Eliot checks that everyone is asleep in their beds, checks the locks on the doors, and makes sure the security system is working.

• It really freaked Breanna out the first time she saw Eliot severely injured. Hardison's stories made Eliot seem invincible. Eliot had to hug her and assure her that he was alright.

• Sophie hates Converse and Vans. Like she has some extreme beef with them.

• Breanna and Harry play Pokemon Go together often. Breanna is Team Instinct and Harry is Team Mystic and they fight over gyms all the time.

• Harry knows how to braid hair because when he was still married, his wife insisted that he should be able to do his daughter's hair.

• Eliot has an entire cupboard of drugs, mostly painkillers, ambiguously labled. He has received calls from every single girl on the team boiling down to, "Eliot, I'm on my period, and I can't figure out which of your stupid white bottles is ibuprofen." He's become quite used to it, and now keeps a special area of the cupboard for period stuff.

• Parker steals a stuffed toy whenever the con involves a store owned by an evil person. She's amassed quite a big collection, but bunny will always be her favorite.

• Hardison, with contributions from Parker and Eliot, now sends so much money to Nana that Nana was able to save up to buy a new house in a better neighborhood for all her foster kids.

Edit: she instead invests in supporting local community programs because people have enlightened me that nana wouod never move

• Harvey and Brenna text terribly made memes to each other all the time.

• Breanna's contacts are as follows:

Eliot: Wallmart Batman

Sophie: 👑SLAY QUEEN👑

Hardison: 👨🏿‍💻

Parker: 🐈‍⬛️Cat Burglar🐈‍⬛️

Harry: STUPID LITTLE LAWYER MAN

• Weekly movie night choices:

Sophie: Downtown Abby

Parker: Finding Nemo

Eliot: The Last Mohican/Rocky

Harry: The Spy Next Door

Breanna: Sonic (for the memes only)

• Eliot's room is the comfort room. Bad dream, feeling kinda sick, a recent con weighing heavily in mind, go to Eliot's room. He's almost never asleep, he knows more than anyone about first aid, and he gives the best hugs. He'll act all annoyed, but he'll always make the whumpee stay until they feel better.

• Everyone assumes Sophie can sew because she's the mom friend, but she has no clue. The team seamstress is actually Harry.

• Eliot keeps an ever-growing list of everyone's favorite foods. He keeps extra ingredients around, so he always has what he needs to whip something up if someone's having a bad day.

• Breanna can be extremely petty when she wants to be. She has been known to hack alexas to say creepy stuff out of nowhere and streetlights to turn each one red just to mess with people.

• Harry really loves dogs.

• Sophie once owned a turtle named Mistress Shellington that now belongs to her daughter.

• Harry's favorite color is yellow.

• Breanna forcing everyone to see the Barbie may not be the worst thing to ever happen to him, but Eliot ranks it pretty high on his list of life tragedies.

• Sophie has noticed that Eliot, when it comes to Parker and Breanna, will always grab them (hand, elbow, shoulder) when crossing the street. Nobody gives him any grief for it because they know he just wants to keep them safe.

• Breanna, from upstairs: ELIOT WHAT'S AN 8-TRACK TAPE?

Eliot: *deep sigh* I'm so old.

Harry: *chokes on drink*

• There are so many dents in the walls, and Sophie loves each one. Scrapes from Parker's grappling equipment, divots from Eliot's throwing knives, dents from Breanna's drones. It makes the HQ feel like home.

• Harry is an honorary girly. Girls' night is more like girls plus Harry night.

• Hardison has a note on his phone of things Breanna has said that make him feel old.

• Eliot has resigned himself to the fact that he will be Parker's and Breanna's personal jungle gym until his dying day. Parker pokes his bruises and climbs all over him, and uses his shoulder as a pillow. Breanna is almost the same. She punches and pokes him, just like Parker, and she often lays her head in his lap when watching tv.

Sophie has a picture on her desk of Breanna, asleep in Eliot's lap, and Parker, asleep against Eliot's shoulder. Eliot has one arm around Parker, the other caressing Breanna, tucking her fly away hair behind her ear. A calm smile is on his face. It's one of Sophie's favorite pictures.

• Eliot follows the sidewalk rule at all times.

• Eliot always sits facing the door. If the team is somewhere in public and one of the others takes the seat with the clearest view of the entrances and exits, he will make them switch seats with him so he can see the doors. It's a military habit.

• Parker hides chocolate in the vents so that nobody else can find it.

[girlfriendsofthegalaxy]

tuesday again 11/5/2024

i am going to do my absolute fucking best to stay off the internet today. also the next time i write one of these i will be goddamn thirty. yeesh.

listening

it took three hours to make a normally brisk 50-minute trip back from the airport on sunday bc there were simply so many accidents. my phone wasn't charging, i was kind of locked into the one way i actually knew how to get home, it was pouring, and the only radio station that was reliably coming through was the local dad rock station.

i don't think i've ever actually heard this song all the way through before! i have of course heard the chorus in eight billion advertisements and trailers etc, but i tuned in right at the lyrics

I was a willow last night in my dream I bent down over a clear running stream Sang you the song that I heard up above And you kept me alive with your sweet flowing love

big ren faire lady of shallott vibes.

-

reading

witch hat atelier, the first twelve volumes that are out in english anyway. let's yoink the setup from the fan wiki.

Coco, a girl living in a small village, had been dreaming of becoming a magician since little. But people who don't know how to use magic since birth are unable to become magicians, or witness the moment magic occurs. But one day, Coco accidentally saw Qifrey, a magician that was visiting the village casting a spell. Ecstatic to finally know how magic works, she tries it immediately and transforms her mother into a stone statue. With the help of Qifrey and his disciples, Coco will embark in a magical journey to save her mother.

this gets a lot of ghibli comparisons, and i get it-- there's a lot of concern about healing scars from a near-cataclysmic magical war, lots of contraptions, bucolic countryside, loving shots of food, etc. i think there is a focus on academia and cohort-building, and how networking is a profession all to itself, that we do not generally see in ghibli films. i think the comp pull should go beyond the aesthetics, as well, but ghibli is still a good comp-- the world of witch hat atelier is dangerous and can hurt or kill you, but it treats the reader's heart with the same care a ghibli movie will. things may not be happily ever after or go perfectly at all times, but there are no twists for the sake of twists, and it doesn't sneer or make fun of you for caring about a character. there are no whedonesque "well THAT happened!" moments. these characters are going to learn and grow and you will learn and grow along with them goddamnit. it is queer but incidentally queer. the folx side of the fags-folx spectrum will feel very welcome here but this is not a tenderqueer kind of gay book. characters are incidentally gay because of course they are, that's just how the world works, look at all the fullness of human expression you can encounter in your one short life, why NOT be gay

i did not expect this series to kickstart a fresh wave of grief for my own academic experience. coco leans on her cohort so much and they truly do work together to solve problems and come up with good solutions and i wish i had had that kind of astronomy experience. it's kind of cold comfort that i don't know and have never heard of a woman having a good astronomy experience.

witch hat atelier: very fun to sink into the details on a page (Kamome Shirahama knows how functional but pretty clothes work), endlessly charming veneer on a very taut game of political ethics happening in the grownups' background

-

watching

happy noirvember!!!

Another Man's Poison (1952, dir. Rapper) courtesy of Kanopy's little revolving carousel of new noir films.

An English mystery writer (Bette Davis) kills her husband, then tries to kill a man (Gary Merrill) posing as her husband.

In his review in New Statesman and Nation, Frank Hauser wrote "No one has ever accused Bette Davis of failing to rise to a good script; what this film shows is how far she can go to meet a bad one."

a plot that could only happen in a country where appearances are everything. i must agree with mr hauser and most of the critics of the time who said Huh???? to the script and basic premise. AND the ending is a little too pat. a breakneck ninety minutes filmed in three months where its stage play bones show. however i really like Bette Davis and it's so much fun to watch Bette Davis pace around an English manor house like a caged tiger.

-

playing

fallow week, i am having a consistent problem with the now five year old gaming rig overheating and once i solve that issue i am very excited to play Red Dead Redemption the original (thank you again @pasta-pardner !)

-

making

deep cleaned my entire house. drove three hundred miles this weekend to pick up my sister and her friend from the airport, go to the ren faire, come back from the ren faire, and take them back to the airport. houston delivered to me some of the worst fucking driving experiences i have ever had here. really upsetting torrential downpour for nearly an hour on a road with no shoulder to speak of.

the actual ren faire was fun! i did not realize how vital a chair or bench with a fucking back was to my rest and recovery. it was nice to go with fellow adults and not help wrangle several small children, as fun as a kid-friendly experience can be. got my overpriced gyro for the year. got my bootleg anime merch for the year. wish it hadn't rained but i feel very smug for packing enough umbrellas and ponchos.

[notafunkiller]

wildflower

Summary: After losing Alexei, Yelena is consumed by grief, but Bucky’s unwavering support becomes her refuge, igniting an unexpected connection between them.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Yelena Belova

Warnings: sadness/grief, nudïty (a bit), language, a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 3.3K

Bucky Barnes masterlist

Bucky x Yelena masterlist

A/N: I’ve had this in my drafts for about a year and was trying to decide whether to add more to it. The story is set after Thunderbolts, and I wrote this before any details about the film were released, so the plot may not align with the actual movie. And I want to add that I don’t speak Russian, so if the translation is incorrect, please let me know so I can fix it. Thank you, and I hope you enjoy it!

And before you start coming at me "Yelena is aro", she is NOT officially aro. It's NOT canon. Research better!

Please, do not repost or translate without my permission!

She’s numb... even with Bucky holding her, it feels like she’s not in her body.

“She’s dissociating, Barnes, you can’t-”

“I am fucking aware, Walker. Do not touch her!” Bucky’s voice against her cheek is like that summer breeze she felt for the first time when she went to Barcelona. She managed to free ten widows there.

“I can help her.”

“Go to the jet.”

“Are you sure?” Another voice. A woman’s voice... But Yelena is too tired to even make the difference, not that it would matter. Nothing matters.

She closes her eyes when Bucky’s hold on her waist tightens, leaning in more against his chest before she starts to fall, and fall, and fall to her knees until she’s touching the ground.

She hears footsteps distancing, but the ringing in her ears is much louder.

“It’s okay, Yelena, let it go. I’ve got you,” Bucky murmurs, his words a gentle plea. “You are not alone.”

You are not alone.

You are not alone.

You are not alone.

But how... how can’t he see it? She is utterly alone. She has no one.

In that solitary moment, Yelena’s body quivers under the weight of her loss. Her breath hitches with each sob, and Bucky feels his own heart break in half for her.

It’s been deadly silent since the team left, leaving only her cries and Bucky’s voice softly repeating comforting phrases in Russian from time to time to echo through the air.

*

He remains close to her even in the jet, making sure he’s not invading her personal space more than he should, but she clearly wants him there. Only when he feels her calm enough, he gently stands up, offering her a reassuring look before making his way to the front of the jet.

“How’s it looking up here?” Bucky’s low voice carries a tone of subdued concern, unsure if their location is truly undisclosed, all while keeping a watchful eye on Yelena.

The pilot nods in response. “All good.”

John, sensing Yelena’s distress, places his hand on her shoulder.

“Hey, it’s alright. We’re here for you, you can talk to me.”

Caught off guard, Yelena flinches, instinctively recoiling from the unexpected touch.

The sharp cry she lets out shocks John, who drops his hand, and Yelena turns her head, her chest heaving, as her eyes seek her source of comfort.

“Bucky...”

Her voice echoes through the jet, and Bucky returns to her side instantly, looking at John with a mix of concern and anger. He told him not to get close to her. He crossed a line that was set up for a reason.

Sighing, he focuses on Yelena instead. “It’s okay. YA zdes’. I’m not going anywhere.” I’m here.

As John leaves them alone, she wraps her arms around Bucky’s neck and pulls him closer into a tight hug. He knows she wouldn’t display this level of affection or vulnerability in any other context, so she must really need it. He rests his hands on her back, rubbing circles over her thick vest even though he knows she can’t actually feel it, It’s something so familiar, yet even more heartbreaking about her pain.

They stay like this for the rest of the ride, and when they finally reach their destination, Bucky looks at her, waiting for her to let go, but it doesn’t seem like she has any energy left to even walk.

“We’re here,” he whispers softly, and she whines. “I’m gonna carry you, Yelena, alright?”

A small nod against his chest is the only answer he gets, so he stands up, his arms forming a shield around her as he carries her out.

*

There are many things she’d never anticipated before this mission: from Bob who almost killed all of them, to Alexei sacrificing himself to save her, creating a void within her that felt insurmountable.

And then there’s Bucky: with his kindness, and unwavering loyalty. His dedication in keeping her safe, even if it meant lying to the government and his friend, the new Captain America, shocked her so much. She’s never experienced this kind of... compassion. She’s never felt so safe, not even with Tasha. It’s scary, especially because he doesn’t want anything in return.

While Bucky’s preparing dinner for them, Yelena lets herself close her eyes in the bathtub, after checking the door twice, making sure it’s still open. It became more than a habit: asking Bucky to let the door open even when he takes a shower or he pees. She just can’t bear the idea of being without him even for a second. There is something wrong with her… She’s more than vulnerable, she is clingy. And as much as she hates it, she needs him. She needs this like she’s never needed anything in her life.

She tries to think about the beach, the taste of her favorite cupcakes, and then the smell of Bucky’s perfume. But it’s pointless.

As she lays in the bathtub, her mind immediately takes her back to Bob hurting them… and Bucky, and then Alexei’s last smile as he has the audacity to say her line. This is a cool way to die.

She would have been amused by him knowing the word cool if he literally didn’t die for her.

And just like that, she feels she can’t breathe.

“Yelena, are you alright?”

She can barely hear Bucky from underwater, but she can sense him kneeling right in front of the tub before reaching to her. He clasps her under the arms and lifts her enough so she could rise above the water and breathe.

Yelena blinks repeatedly, trying to clear the water from her eyes, and Bucky strokes her damp hair gently as one of his arms remains securely around her to make sure she’s not gonna fall again.

Feeling the weight of her weakened body, Yelena feels ashamed.

“I’m... I’m sorry.” Her voice is trembling.

“You don’t have to apologize. It’s okay. It’s all gonna be okay.” He presses his lips against her forehead, and Yelena’s breath begins to regulate.

“I got you all wet,” she groans embarrassed. “I don’t know why I’m so weak.” She hides her face into his shoulder. “I-I’m supposed to be strong, to know how to deal with this shit differently. Why is this drowning me?”

“You’re not weak for needing something.” He pauses, letting his words sink in before continuing, “I know it comes against everything we were taught, everything we wrapped our personalities around. But we are not robots. And what you’re dealing with is more than most people ever will. More than I ever will because my parents died before I went to the army. So it’s okay to feel the weight of that, and you’re not alone in this. You’ll make it out, Yelena. I swear on my life.”

As Bucky helps her, she notices something unexpected—his focus remains solely on her face, not even once lowering, even as he grabs the towel from the top of the washing machine. She’s taken aback while he just gently guides the towel across her shoulders.

It’s not something she’s used to; the absence of glance feels strange, almost wrong.

“Arms up, please.”

She does what he says like an obedient child, and she realizes that in this unfamiliarity, there’s an unexpected wave of relief. She knows she can trust Bucky completely… she can count on him. It’s so scary and it happened so quickly that she can’t wrap her head around the idea properly. Is this real? 

“I-I can continue,” she whispers. “Thank you.”

“You sure?”

“Y-yeah. You were making dinner, and I am starving.”

Bucky’s expression immediately softens. “Absolutely. Dinner’s almost ready, I’ll make sure you’re fed.”

She nods and reaches for his Henley —now hers— as she watches him leave.

*

He made pasta. A lot, a lot of pasta, but she isn’t complaining. It’s her favorite dish, and it looks so tasty. She knows he has quite an appetite. She watched him eat a couple of times, and he always shared, but in this context? So different.

She snorts. “You planning to feed an army?” she teases, pointing to his plate.

“We are better than an army, Yelena.”

“So true. Others would just slow us down.” She smirks playfully. “Not sure if the world is ready for us, though. We might just need to turn it upside down.”

“Yeah, turning things upside down... been there before,” he murmurs, a trace of nostalgia in his tone. “And I had my world turned upside down more times than I can count.”

Yelena’s tone softens, realizing exactly what Bucky means by that, and it breaks her heart. For him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about some of your turns,” she sighs, looking at him. “The world doesn’t always play fair, does it?”

For neither of them. They can’t gain something without needing to give up on something else. They cannot get freedom without losing someone. They always pay a price, even for partial happiness. It’s unfair they cannot be like others. They cannot live their life without worrying about what will happen next.

Bucky’s smiles, and she is happy she can’t read pity in his eyes, just genuine understanding.

“Yeah,” Bucky whispers, trying not to think much about the past. “But surviving it, finding the way through... that’s what matters as theoretical as it might sound.” He lets the fork drop on his plate before reaching to slightly touch the back of her hand with his fingers. He’s not going to cross the limit. Her personal space is hers. But Yelena surprises him when he opens her hand enough so he can hold it.

“It’s always getting shittier for people with shitty lives, and never getting better. We do not get nice things. And we’re so used to the bad that we find a way to just survive. But this time, I felt like I couldn’t breathe for once. I almost died more times than I can count. I killed people, got beaten up, starved, but losing my sister without even being able to say goodbye, then...”

“Hey, it’s okay, you don’t need to talk about it.”

“No, it’s just... I am not used to feeling this. It’s such a weak and weird thing! Same as talking like this,” she lets go of his hand as she speaks to wave it between them. “Heart to heart. It’s just so fucking pathetic, and I tried not to be pathetic my whole life.”

“Feeling things doesn’t make you weak, Yelena,” he responds gently. “It makes you human.”

Bucky looks at her for a couple of seconds, knowing exactly what she’s feeling. Because he did it, too. For years. And he won’t let her be eaten alive by any of it. Never. “Opening up, showing vulnerability, it takes strength, which those shitheads don’t have. They traded everything: from values to their own families to get power. And this is the thing, we did not, and we still got the real power. They didn’t. We won, Yelena. And we win every day we breathe, and feel, and let ourselves be human.”

“James, I’m pathetic” she groans, her voice carrying a mixture of exasperation and distress as she stands up. “I appreciate everything you’ve done and you do for me, but stop lying.”

Bucky shakes his head in confusion. “I’m not lying, Yelena. You-”

“If you don’t find me pathetic, then how come you didn’t even react when I was practically naked in front of you? My tits were pressed-” Her cheeks flush as she covers her face in embarrassment, realizing she’s almost screaming at this point as she got so worked up over it. “I cannot even make a man be attracted to me anymore.”

Oh…

“It’s not- you’re not pathetic” He pauses, trying to choose his words carefully. “I wasn’t looking because it was disrespectful. You were in a vulnerable position.”

Ashamed, she sighs. “Sorry, I guess I’m not used to people caring without an ulterior motive.” She glances away as he stands up. “I appreciate it, James. You’re a good man. I just...”

“I understand. You need to give yourself more time.”

Yelena nods, playing with the edge of her T-shirt. “So you’re not gay or taken, right?”

She almost regrets asking it, but when Bucky’s lips pull into a smile, she relaxes, crossing her arms as she waits for his answer.

“No, Yelena, I am not gay, and I am not seeing anyone.” And as if he’s anticipating her next question, he continues. “And yes, I noticed you were naked. You were taking a bath after all.”

Yelena doesn’t know which part satisfies her more: the fact he’s single or that he can actually be funny when he wants.

“Am I your type?” She asks quickly, uncrossing his arms. His eyes immediately follow her breasts as she does, so she can’t hide her triumphant smile

“Let’s just say you’re a category all your own.”

“Oh, a category all my own?” she repeats as if she’s never heard any of those words before. She’s suddenly nervous. “Does that mean am I just... too complicated for your liking?”

He opens and closes his mouth for a second, as if he doesn’t know what to say.

“Complicated? Never said that.” His tone is as casual as possible, with only a hint of mischief. He feels rusty. For the first time he really wanted to playfully flirt. “You’re out of my league, Yelena, and you know it.”

Yelena is caught off guard completely, sensing some kind of self-doubt in his words, but he cannot really believe that, can he? He’s him... he’s incredible. He must know that, right?

“Out of your league?” she responds, keeping her voice flat while she crosses her arms again. “I don’t buy that for a second, James. Come on, I am a big girl! I can take it.”

“Can you?” He asks before he can stop himself and he groans immediately in embarrassment. Yelena, instead, not surprisingly at all, bursts out into laughter.

“Quite a dirty mind for an American.”

Bucky snorts, bringing his hand to his chest dramatically. “I am hurt.”

“You should be,” Yelena replies while slowly making her way to him. She just wants to touch him... touch his face just once. She’s been dying to do it halfway through their mission, if she thinks about it, when they stayed up all night watching over everyone. He was watching over her, too.

“Khorosho, chto ya tozhe govoryu po-russki.” Good thing I speak Russian too.

Yelena smirks, stopping very close to him, invading his personal space, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

He’s so tall and huge. He could simply lift her without any effort, and she wants it so badly. She has to shake her head off to stop picturing her legs wrapped around his naked ass as he pounds her against the wall.

“Și română,” she says casually, watching his eyes go big. She has to bite her lip not to laugh. And Romanian.

“Ești plină de surprize.” You’re full of surprises.

“I lived in Ukraine, after all, James. Neighbors.”

Not even her teasing patronizing tone could make him stop smiling.

Tired of waiting for him to do something, she uses this silence as an opportunity to make a move herself.

She reaches for the hem of her shirt, effortlessly lifting it over her head and throwing it on the floor, at their feet. Bucky freezes, caught off guard once again by her. He knows he should be respectful and look away, but he cannot help it this time. His eyes drop straight to her hard nipples.

“Yelena...” The soft way he says her name makes Yelena close her eyes for a second.

“You can touch, you know?” She giggles, grabbing his right hand just to place it on the valley between her breasts.

The sudden contact sends a jolt through Bucky, his breath hitching as surprise. Her heart is racing just like his. Despite his instinct to continue to touch her, he quickly withdraws his hand as if her skin burned him.

Yelena’s cheeks get red, her nervousness evident in the slight tremor of her fingers as she grabs her own cheeks.

“So it’s a rejection after all.”

She leans down, trying to hide how hurt she is while she gets her T-shirt back.

How stupid is she? How could she do this? She embarrassed herself.

“Yelena!” Bucky jumps, stopping her from getting dressed by snatching his Henley from her hands and letting it fall on the floor again before he cups her face.

Her face is a little wet and her eyes are getting a bit puffy.

“Do. Not. Don’t give me your pity!” He notices her accent is thicker when she speaks faster, and he finds it absolutely adorable.

“I’m not pitying you and I’m definitely not rejecting you.”

“James-”

“Yelena,” he whispers and brushes a tear off from her cheek. He never wants to see her cry, it’s devastating. Because she does it in a silent way, and he is well aware how that hurts even more. “I like you, and I want you. Trust me, if you lower your hand you could feel it yourself.”

And as if this was an invitation, she shamelessly brings her hand between their bodies, to his sweatpants and gently feels around.

He gasps in surprise.

“You are hard!” She remarks excitedly, and Bucky laughs. “So tell me something,” she continues to touch him a bit, making him moan. “If you’re this hard, why don’t you want me to take care of it? Why don’t you want me now?”

Bucky moves his hands from her face up so he can stroke her hair, sensing the vulnerability in her tone immediately.

“Yelena, you’ve been through a lot lately. You might now even want me after you feel better,” he says jokingly, but Yelena knows he actually thinks that. “I want you more than you can imagine, but it’s about more than that.”

As his fingers run through her hair, he feels the urge to protect her, shield her from further hurt.

She lets her hand fall.

“I am the person you trust, so I am not sure...” He pauses, trying to find better words. “I am not sure if you got confused because of that.”

Confused?

“Bucky!” She grabs his chin instinctively, and she almost shivers. It feels so good to be able to do this. “I’ve been attracted to you since we met. And I grew up hearing stories about you...”

“Yelena-”

“Bucky, I need you,” she interrupts him quickly, her voice cracking. She’s showing all of her cards. “I never needed or wanted something or someone like I want this.”

Bucky smiles, wrapping his arms around her waist before enveloping her in a tight hug. He has to surpass a groan when he feels her nipples against his chest while Yelena has no shame as she grinds a little against his erection.

“I might not be able to offer everything you want right now because you deserve to heal before diving into anything more with me. But after that…”

Despite the crazy urge she feels to finally fuck him, she understands the importance of his words, how hard he tries to maintains the balance between their attraction and her well-being. He’s just perfect.  No one can have him but her now.

[klunkcat]

Forget-Me-Nots

rise of the tmnt tags: hurt/comfort, post movie word count: 18.8k characters: mikey & leo, minor leo & don

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information.

It also just keeps happening.

read on ao3 here

This is a fic I wrote basically entirely for @goodlucktai so thank you as always my sun and moon for your constant inspiration <3 Turtle brain rot lives within me permanently and will never die probably

____

At the center of it all, Mikey doesn’t regret it. He knows how angry his family would be, has actually watched from the outside how devastating it is to lose any one of them for a single second— the four minutes and seven seconds after the Krang ship exploded and before he cracked open himself to drag his own portal into existence were their own swan song. He felt the way the world coalesced into a singular black hole of grief that felt impossible to move underneath. He knows this changes all of his family in awful ways, that it'll rewrite them all fundamentally, and the thought makes him want to scream and apologize immediately after his choice solidifies in front of him, but he can’t possibly bring himself to pick anything else all the same. It's not that this is different, but it also is entirely. 

He thinks the problem is, at its core, the fact that he refuses to regret it at all. 

Getting Leo back is an impossibility— Mikey reached through and pulled the millionth of a million chance through and made it possible anyways, because it’s Leo. Because it’s his big, stupid, self sacrificing older brother who never even asked them how they’d feel before diving off on his own. Because a world without Leo and his whip crack jokes and larger than life energy is one he can’t stand to be in a second longer than he already has. Mikey makes it possible, because there’s no other option he will accept. 

He can see it later, all the words Donnie used to describe the choices and paths he burns right out of reality, bright and bold against his skin; there are branches, there are branches of branches. Each one of them splinters up his hands and arms until he can find the one where Leo makes it back. It hurts, and even with Donnie and Raph at his sides, it almost doesn’t happen at all— in fact, there’s many times it doesn’t. 

Mikey’s not supposed to be able to do this, not yet— he can see the years he spends honing this in Casey’s world, all the time and training and drain it puts right on that intangible ball of fire that makes up all of them. There are so many worlds where he can’t figure it out in time at all, but Mikey blazes through those anyways. If he can change things he will, and he will change them again and again until everyone he loves is safe and fine and home. It takes a lot of tries. Maybe that should have been the first warning sign. 

It starts with tingling in his fingertips. Fuzz, somewhere just at the end of himself that by day two, when Leo is conscious enough to hold a conversation in Donnie’s med bay, he almost misses when it gets worse. The shocky feeling is just the adrenaline, probably he thinks. It had been a really intense few days. By the next morning, attempting to text Cassandra and watching his phone fall from his hands for the second time, it hits him that he can’t feel anything in his hands at all.

By lunch, it’s at his elbows, dinner at his shoulders. He realizes that there are whole conversations skipping past; he’s awake and then he’s in bed, then he’s standing alone in the kitchen and he thinks he maybe hasn’t moved in entire days somehow without participating in any single moment of it. His family won’t look at him directly unless he speaks— he realizes what this is, what the burnt out remains of all those worlds had left him with. 

He still can’t pretend he regrets it, even then. 

He should tell Dee, or Leo, or Raph— Dad, Casey Jr., Barry, anyone at all— it’s been too late for a long time already, he thinks. A thousand other worlds where Mikey hits the redo all going 180 on the freeway and smashing into one at hyper speed. He has told everyone, he hasn’t told anyone, he’s redone it all twenty, forty, one hundred, two thousand times— there’s one world where Leo makes it back okay, there’s only one where nothing else goes wrong, and it’s the one where Mikey can’t. 

(There’s a part of him that’s scared, he can admit it. The idea of never getting morning breakfasts, excited team hi-fives, late night living room sleepovers; a million never's of an infinite number of days he’ll never know, it’s enough to cave in the whole of his heart. It’s worse to imagine all those mornings without his big brother, knowing he could have tried.

Besides, he’s Hamato Michelangelo. He’s got a whole house of brothers who taught him about being brave. He’s learned from the best.

When Mikey was younger, his favorite place in the entire world had been the hammock Leo strung up in their shared bedroom. It had been ratty in the way that made it feel extra soft, wide enough to fit all four of them if they curled up. Mikey would fall asleep half thrown across Raph’s shell, arm outstretched to wrap his hand around Leo’s wrist. Don breathing slow and soft on Leo’s other side to lull him to sleep. 

Whenever things were stressful he’d imagine that— the warm cocoon that held his favorite people. The way the light from the hallway as Dad said his goodnight's would bleed through the blue-gray cloth and turn it red and purple and orange, too. The way childhood took time and stretched it out long and infinite, it felt untouchable. 

It’s harder to remember now. The warmth feels like grains of sand he keeps letting slip through his hands, no matter how hard he fights to keep it. 

Another moment he’s supposed to have. Another, and another.

Maybe it’s easier now with the choice already made to feel scared but, he’s somewhere outside himself in a timeline that doesn’t exist anymore and he’s alone. He’s realizing, curled up on the asteroid, floating through expanses of nothing, flickering through a thousand branches of timelines that can’t happen anymore because he broke them, that he’s not sure he’s ever actually been alone.)

It’s fine, is the thing, really. There’s a difference between the slow slide of your family being ripped out right from the center, and this slow blink into something else. They don’t even notice it happen. 

____

“Come on, Raph! It’s just a quick little trip around the corner. What’s the big deal?” 

Raph levels him with a look, it’s the highly specific and patented ‘exasperated older brother stare’ he perfected and should have patented when they were five years old. Typically, the look spells a whole lecture on the importance of respect and believing in the team or something else equally as heartfelt and long winded. The Leonardo flavor to it lately means the chasm in Raph’s forehead is particularly darkened and wearied with concern, and the most he seems to be able to bring himself to do is sigh. 

Leo’s not a fan of the way this whole thing shook them all so deeply, if he’s honest. The tentative way his brothers all lurk nearby has him vaguely itchy with concern right back at them. Besides, he is feeling better, really. Don gave him the all clear this morning to get out of the pseudo hospital bed he’d set up, with stern orders to use a crutch to manage his busted knee as much as possible. He’s a pro with the crutches already, he’ll have them all know. Maybe his back flip up to the second floor had landed a little awry, but he hadn’t fallen over. On his face, anyways. 

No one had seen it happen.

“Leo, Donnie said you were allowed to hang out in the living room. The living room in our house.” 

Leo waves his hand in the air. “Eh. What’s the difference really?” 

“About fifteen point four miles, actually.” Don pipes in, peeking around the corner. “Fifteen point three of those you are not allowed to walk.” 

His family — you gotta love ‘em, but sheesh. Overprotective could be their new motto. So a guy gets teleported to a prison dimension and nearly doesn’t make it out, people have had crazier summer vacations. They’re all acting like if he moves around too much he’ll collapse into a pile of dust on the spot.

He flops backwards on the couch with an over dramatic groan. “It’s boring in here!” 

“So read a comic then,” Raph says, still frowning but in a more pleasantly annoyed kind of way. “Or… learn how to knit. I don’t know— you’re not moving, tough luck.”

“You want me dead,” he says, unthinkingly to the ceiling. To his credit, it doesn’t even take the awkward pause or the tell tale sign of his twin shuffling his lab door closed to make him realize he shouldn’t have said it at all. It’s the type of joke they always make, but Leo still catches the hollowed out look of pain in Raph’s eyes even as he glances away. 

“Sorry,” he tries, just to have at least said it.

Raph shakes his head, swallowing roughly. “It’s cool, just. You— you went through a lot, Leo. At least try to rest, okay?” 

Fine. He sighs, overly loud just to be a pain and re-shift the vibes back into some modicum of the correct orbit. “House arrest. Unjust, I want my lawyer.” 

Raph’s eyes brighten, something less haggard falling away as he turns towards the kitchen. Bingo. “Yeah, yeah. Tell it to the judge.” 

“Where’s Dr. Delicate Touch when you need him, think he’s got a law degree under that PhD?” 

Leo leans back, casually stretching himself farther onto the couch with as much feigned grouchiness as he can muster. A flash of orange catches the corner of his eye— “Ah, Ang! Tell Raph I can totally hang out at April’s. He wants me to steal all of your comics, you know. He said I should go into your room and take all of them while you weren’t looking. I heard him!”

He’s half expecting Mikey to gasp dramatically, or play into it by breaking down into an over dramatic eulogy and demand an apology from their oldest brother. Their usual bit involves a lot of Leo siccing Mikey onto the others like a particularly emotionally lecture filled chihuahua, something that Mikey gleefully falls into. The silence surprises him, mostly he realizes because it doesn’t. 

He peeks one eye over the back of the couch.  

“Oh,” Mikey says, blinking at him like he just realized Leo was speaking. “Ha— good one.” 

His baby brother seems lost in thought, which is typically not a good sign for anyone involved in the Hamato household. Leo’s heart shifts sideways and funny, instinctive reactions buried deep. “Hey, you wanna ditch out and join me here on lockdown? We can watch your favorite cup stacking videos, if you want.” It’s a momentous offer, Leo hates those videos. 

Mikey sort of just… stands there for a moment. Shakes his head, and seems to process Leo’s words in real time. “Oh— no, that's okay. Sorry, I said I’d help April with her art project.” 

Leo humphs loudly, crossing his arms— or at least halfway crossing them, the bad one shrieks at his boldness and he leaves it alone after a moment. The intent is there, probably. “Fine, sure whatever. I’ll just rot here then.” 

Another long awkward pause follows, Mikey staying still, staring just left of Leo’s head. There’s a very quiet feeling in the back of Leo’s mind he can’t place. “Angelo?” He hedges. 

Mikey blinks up at him, expression shifting too quickly for Leo to catch before his million watt grin is back. “Sorry, what?”

Leo squints. “Okay, change of plans. You. Me. Sitting here all night. Re-runs. I’m putting you on baby brother jail duty, it's a very serious role. You have to pretend to keep me in line, and then when the moment strikes, bust me out and go on a wild goose chase halfway across town to restore our former glory.” 

It earns him a tiny giggle from his baby brother at least. “Maybe it’s better you take it easy, Leo,” Mikey adds in, patting his head only semi-patronizingly, to his credit. “Raphie’s just worried about you.” 

Ugh. “Ugh,” Leo says, for emphasis. He tosses an arm across his eyes. “Fine, I’ll just wither away here on this couch all alone while you’re out having fun, whatever.” 

“Naw,” Mikey says. “Never have too much fun without you, bro.” 

Leo frowns at Mikey’s back, as he ambles off towards the half pipe sort of aimlessly. The sudden burst of earnestness is not unwelcome, really, or all that surprising. Mikey and Raph have always been his most emotional brothers. The way Mikey says it is despondent in a way he doesn’t enjoy, though. Like he’s tired. No, more than that— there’s something to Mikey that seems absolutely exhausted from Leo’s vantage spot from the couch. 

His shoulders slump downwards, lacking all of the usual flip switch energy and crowing enthusiasm their baby brother carries with him like a cape. It makes Leo feel— bad, he thinks. Nervous.

Maybe it’s one of those things Raph said that he needs to consider. Charging off into a death portal on his own with a tearful goodbye? Might have been a step too far into traumatic for his babiest brother. Maybe all of his brothers need to work through it on their own a little. He knows Dee has been spending more of his time in his labs than usual lately, that he’s working on a thousand and five back up plans for any scenario remotely like this ever again— as if they stumble across multi-dimensional horror show a-holes every week. Raph has been training extra hard, channelling as much of his focus into some theoretical improvement as he has been with hovering around Leo in case he keels over and perishes or something. 

Mikey has been— actually, he’s not sure what the guy’s been up to. Hopefully art, or skateboarding, although seeing him now, Leo’s not sure he’s been doing much of either. 

“Hey, Mike?” He calls, and Mikey pauses halfway through the door. The sight makes him worry, somehow. 

Mikey turns instantly, “Yeah, Leo? Did you need something?” Like he’d come back in a heartbeat if Leo really needed him, cancel all of his plans and stay glued to his side like Leo kind of wants, embarrassingly. Like he's just waiting for Leo to ask. Maybe they all need to work through a little bit of something. 

He swallows, pauses. “Nah, I’m good. Tell Ape I say hi, okay?” 

Mikey smiles, “Sure thing, bro.” 

____

The days after the incident in New York had everyone tense — news outlets are afraid to talk about it directly, hesitantly breaking news of clean ups and building reports. Their web of distant contacts begins poking through day by day— Leo got a fairly heartwarming message from Hueso that tells him that his family is also at least partially included in whatever footage was retained from everything. It seemed like most of New York has grouped them in the aliens category, and summarily proclaimed them all ‘returned home’, so there’s no immediate danger at least. 

Their usual ragtag crowd of other local mutants seem to know exactly what happened, more or less, which has granted them some pause in their usual problem-dealing. Something something local heroes, supposedly. Hueso even gives him a coupon. 

Casey finds his way down to the lair, then up to an apartment that April helps him set up with her mom and Cassandra after that, and learns how to text painfully and awkwardly with emojis, much to Leo’s horror. Leo’s bruises fade from angry black whorls to yellow queasy splotches, Raph’s eye gets a full all clear from Donnie, and the world keeps turning. Albeit, with a very intense and serious lecture from Dad about Leo taking it easy, slash being grounded for the next month to launch it all into a particularly odd spin. 

He’s been grounded before, he knows that’s not what this is. 

The protectiveness makes sense, even though it chafes at him and makes him grouchy the longer it goes on. April cancels said regular movie night at her apartment and forcefully shoves everyone into their lair so Leo doesn’t have to move, and Dad’s grounding conveniently doesn’t extend to April either. Mikey bakes all his favorite foods constantly, making the kitchen glow with warm spices and sugars. Raph carefully leaves pamphlets on proper stretches out on the coffee table, and Leo’s favorite blanket is always freshly laundered. Don, in his brusque way, finds excuses to sit near him at night so Leo can fall asleep being surrounded by people he cares about. He can’t fault them for it, really. Maybe underneath the bravado and the sheer amount of ‘not thinking about it’ that he’s doing there is a part of him that craves the intense levels of attachment everyone is giving him.

It’s fine like this, he doesn’t want to leave them either. He almost did anyway. 

Before the Krang, before Casey Jr., before the Shredder, the most harrowing experience they’d dealt with was hibernation instincts, learning how to cook food properly. Heat and avoiding illness. The beauty of having a brainiac twin and a dad that had navigated the world of finances and income before everything else, meant that they hit the ground running early. Maybe they’d all been a little bit sheltered, in hindsight. 

Something about growing up with yourself and your family and your whole world in your pocket.  Maybe you start thinking that maybe the world can’t touch you either.

If they’d asked Leo, he’d have said it didn’t matter— turtle luck, true to form and all that. Sure, things had gotten real apocalyptic bad end for a second there, but nothing permanent happened. They’d saved the day, Leo was fine, Mikey had cracked some insane magical connection no one else in the world could do and Raph came back. 

Bruised, sure. Scared, absolutely. Fine all the same. Or at least, he figures it should be fine.

He can see it in their eyes no matter how relaxed he made sure he looked, no matter how loud he talked. The what if, hovering over everyone, waiting to drown the whole room if they let it. Maybe a few degrees off from fine, but whole.

The photograph he carried everywhere now was starting to bend a little, just the hint of a crease where his thumb had pinched it too hard in the middle of the night. Leo figures he understands how they feel, even if he didn’t live through it. Somewhere out there was a Leo that had for a moment been entirely alone. They have time to fix it now though, he figures. The rest will fall into place.

“Whatcha got there?” April leans over the couch towards him. Raph is dozing to the quiet credits of whatever movie they’d been watching — the name of it escapes him, it hadn’t been very good.  They'd all jumped on it because it was something Casey said he’d seen a poster of once, which then started a whole conversation about how he’d never even seen a TV show, and how movies stopped existing because there'd been so little electricity to even play them on, and that had been so sad they’d all bundled him on the couch together to put it on immediately. 

Casey is tucked under Raph’s arm, chin tilted down and sleeping quietly himself; Leo itches for a camera. Don must have wandered off, his blankets still spread out by the foot of the couch— if he squints he can see the blue light of the lab filtering under the door. The light feeling in his chest sinks at the sight. 

Leo turns the photo towards April. “Just a bunch of weird looking mugs and some handsome bald guy, you know how it is.” 

April scrubs her hand across his head. “We should get that framed. It’s a good one.” 

It is, he thinks. It’s perfect. They have a lot of selfies from over the years, mostly silly ones. Blurry Leo’s diving away from angry Donnie’s or prank evidence, or the few Dad keeps in his special binder he thinks none of them know about from when they were younger. They have so many he usually doesn’t even think about any of them in particular. Sometimes the thought of that makes him want to lock this picture in a box somewhere, bolt the door shut and lie down very still. 

“You’re just saying that cause you’re in the middle,” Leo jokes. April winks back at him. 

Looking down at the photo again, there’s a well of warmth bubbling through him he can’t name. His family, all in one piece, grown one puzzle portion larger with Casey lately— he fits, too. Like a space they hadn’t realized was missing. Him and Sunita and Cassandra, and, begrudgingly if Leo has to play nice, Barry he supposes too and— 

Leo frowns. The photo looks… off. Too much space on one side. He doesn’t remember being in the middle, actually, he’s pretty sure he was on the side— Did he bend it too far? He squints, moving his thumb. No, it’s just, off somehow. Like one of those newspaper games, spot the difference, except there’s a pit in his gut like something important happened. April’s expression slow glides into confusion, but Leo can’t even say what it is that’s wrong, only that there’s a portion of him that is suddenly and abruptly convinced that the picture he carried to hell and back is wrong— 

“Did either of you want some popcorn?” Mikey’s voice cuts in, shoving a brimming bowl towards them. “Raphie fell asleep before he could eat his. Well. I kinda hid it from him.” 

“Oh, thanks, Mike,” April bends forward happily.

Leo blinks back— no, the picture is fine. It’s fine, there’s everyone’s faces smiling back at him, not a thing out of place. He is in the middle, oh. He’s maybe more tired than he thought, is all. Jeeze. It is late, he reasons, and the painkillers Don’s been aggressively-minus-the-passively implying he will be hunted down for ever missing make him drowsier than usual. It’s that residual nightmare problem he’s been having, too; night time makes him jumpier, like he’s on a time limit to prove things are really here. Maybe the sleep aid’s Dee mentioned would be a good idea, he’s just afraid of not being able to force himself awake when the dreams take a turn. 

“Want some, Leo?” Mikey’s eyes shine in the TV light, reflective and almost full white with it making him look almost the full alien New York is convinced they all are. “I put extra butter on it for you.” 

“Thanks, buddy.” 

____

The dreams always start out the same. He’s not in the other dimension, not yet — he’s on the ship with his brothers. He’s watching Donnie take a hit, and calculating in split seconds the likelihood that any of them will get out of this at all with dread so violent in his chest it feels like the world is cracking in half in front of him. He knows— he knows, he knows. There’s only ever one choice to make, and he makes it.

Then, sometimes, the earpiece crackles to life. It’s his voice, it’s the Krangs, it’s Draxum’s and Shredder’s and everyone’s tangled together. He’s saying goodbye, but they aren’t through the portal yet— he’s miscalculated the odds and there’s no one on the other side of the line. 

He’s alone even before he’s actually alone, there’s no one to even say goodbye to. 

Or, someone doesn’t leave. Raph stays behind and he’s so overwhelmed with relief and gratefulness he almost misses watching the Krang skewer him directly before his eyes again. Donnie can’t get a block up at all, and the hit launches him faster than Raph can catch up. April’s there and she takes the hit instead. Someone else takes his place, someone else figures it out first and makes him stay behind. 

Or, he never left. He goes through the wormhole and Casey closes it and no one ever finds him at all. Because he made it up, because he’s still there. 

One night he wakes up, and he doesn’t remember how they got him back in the first place. 

___

“Hey, Leo. You want to try running through some training today?” Raph leans across the hallway — Leo’s been itching to move, to do anything. His injuries have all but healed up, the concussion tucked nicely away; despite Donnie’s stern insistence otherwise, he’s got a clean bill of health. He practically leaps to his feet at the words and very aggressively ignores the immediate head rush that follows. He's been sitting around for far too long, honestly, he's determined not to lose an ounce of his usual pizzazz.

“So I can kick your butt, you mean?” 

Raph snorts. “That’s the kind of big talk I like to hear. Just easy ones today though, okay? Butt kicking is a next-month kind of goal.”

“Come on, Raph, I can wipe the floor with you any day.” 

“Uh-huh.” The silence that follows is biting, touché big brother. 

“I can! Few weeks off isn’t enough to unsizzle this sizzle.” 

“Another wholly scathing comment battle where we all remain interestingly unscathed, I see.” Don slinks from the kitchen to the living room, typing furiously at his wrist the whole time. 

Perfect, Leo thinks. Everyone together, the absolute ideal way to burn off the wildfire forming under his skin. Get two birds with one stone in making sure they’re all okay just the same way they’ll be nervously poking at him— turnabout is fair play and whatever, but he’s just as worried back. Everyone’s been… odd, since the Krang. He just wants it to feel right again for a few seconds.

“You too, Donnie. Get your gear, let's make this a full on Leo power hour special. My portalling is even better now; while I’ve been sitting around watching Jupiter Jim reruns I got some crazy ideas. I'll have you know it’s ripe with cosmic…. Idea making. Juice.” 

“Are we just making sounds? Is that what this is? These are just sounds you’re making.” 

“Oh come on, as if I can’t take both of you with one arm behind my back.” 

Don rolls his eyes, making a show of crossing his arms. It’s nice, actually. They’d all been too raw with nerves to be snarky or throw any barbs around. Sass from Donald is basically a gleaming thumbs up for ‘things are actually okay’, so maybe everyone will get the hint too. “Maybe I should check if you have a fever, you’re acting…. Oh that’s right, entirely delusional is a personality trait of yours.” 

“Hoo hoo! Fighting words, I see how it is, ‘Tello. Let’s make it a full bet then, three on one. Where is Micheal anyway—” 

He pauses— Mikey stares at him from the railing, kicking his feet happily from the ledge. Right, because he’d been there the whole time. Duh. No one else seems to blink either— maybe Mikey had done some practising while he was out of it. Really honing in on that mystic warrior side, kudos to him, really. 

“Hey, you wanna help me prove a point to these bozos?” 

He grins, the same way he always does. “Can I be on your team?”

Leo makes a show of rolling his eyes with a sigh. “Man, harshing my whole solo hero against all odds shtick there Michael, but yeah I guess.” As if he’d ever really been able to say no to those big green eyes. 

Leo shakes his head. Blue. Mikey’s eyes are blue. Of course they are— they’re gleaming and bright in the photograph he carries right over his heart, he’s looked at them nearly every day for his whole life. Silly. 

Maybe training today is not up there with one of his better ideas actually, but he’d rather volunteer to do Dad’s laundry than admit that now. 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Mikey asks, and Leo does not jump— he does not— but does feel his heart rocket directly into his teeth as his brother appears suddenly beside him. 

Leo clicks his tongue, playing his sudden jumpiness off and waving his hand dismissively. “Up for what? A nice easy warm up where we absolutely show these clowns up? Sure, afterwards we can get ice cream from that place you like, easy peasy.” 

“Ice cream?” Don cuts in with a snort. “You want to deal with that inevitable explosion, be my guest. More of a punishment than a reward, though, I’d say.” 

“Yeah, Leo,” Raph tilts his head, losing some of his easy playfulness. “Kind of cruel to throw that in his face.” 

“Huh?” He whirls towards them both. “Cruel? Me? What’s wrong with ice cream?” 

Mikey huffs. “You know I can’t have dairy.” 

What? No, Leo definitely wouldn’t have missed that big of a development, no matter how whacked out he’d been— Mike’s favorite place in the world outside of the pizza parlors was the ice cream shop by April’s that sold absolutely unhinged combinations of flavors. They went there all the time after practice, it was their together thing. Leo once chugged a whole twenty dollars worth of pickle flavored ice cream milkshake just to make Mikey laugh and— hadn’t he? Or….

Leo frowns to himself. “Right.” He shakes his head again, squinting at Mikey. “Doi, I was saying… Mikey’s shop, you know. The candy place you like. Jeeze. Can’t talk today.”

Mikey brightens up instantly, “Ooh, can we get the big jawbreaker this time?” 

“Course,” Leo nods, trying not to frown. “I’ll buy you the biggest one if you want.” 

He has the strangest feeling about this, like deja vu. Two of him walking in the same fun house mirror paths at once. Mikey skips ahead towards the training room and something— there’s something off— 

“You sure you’re up for it?” Raph interrupts, placing a hand on his shoulder as he approaches. The Raph Chasm is back, great. “You look a little pale, bro.” 

Don leans in also, tapping even more intensely on his wrist tablet. “Seems fine. Temperature is normal, no signs of reopened injury. Heart rate is a little elevated—” 

“Dude,” Leo gapes at him. “Did you— did you chip me again?”

___

His dreams get weirder as the days go on. He figures it’s something to do with his brain trying to settle in, like it’s run out of plausible events and has to start throwing weirder and weirder potentials in the mix just to be sure.

He’s in the prison dimension now when it starts. He’s there, and he’s holding onto his photo, and the Krang Leader is approaching with shockwave levels of thunderous rage. It always goes the same: 

Leo is cornered, he’s alone. He’s waiting for the next hit, the next punch. He can’t remember if this is real, he can’t remember if he leaves. He knows he’s alone, he thinks it might be forever. Then, the Krang vanishes— he looks around, and he’s on a rock in the dark, an unthinkable distance from home. 

No Krang, no family. Miles and miles of scrapyard wasteland space, and nothing but himself. It’s somehow worse, this way. 

Then, sometimes it shifts. His brothers are all there, god— his brothers are all here. Sometimes it’s Dad, and he’s trying to take all the hits himself. Once, Casey. It’s terrifying to be alone but he always hates those ones, the ones where he somehow drags everyone else down here with him. 

The worst one is when it’s Mikey. He must have taken the hit from the Krang himself, he’s banged up and barely moving— smiling at him behind a swollen eye. 

“It’s okay,” He says in this one, it’s the only one where anyone talks. “It’s going to be okay, Leo.” 

___

Leo’s maybe not as alright as he would like to believe. It’s hard to think of the shape of whatever it is, let alone admit directly; he’s forgetting things, is the sum of it. He forgot where Donny’s new second lab was the other day, unthinkingly walking directly in with a question he’d instantly forgotten and nearly set off the project Don was working on. He forgot that Raph has a new motorcycle, and that he drives it around most nights after dinner and that he doesn’t spend a lot of time at home. He forgot that really, he’s the only one that watches Jupiter Jim, and wrestling, and they haven’t gone topside together in ages.

It also just keeps happening. 

“Are you coming over?” He says, breathlessly into his cell propped up with his shoulder. The stack of pizza boxes he's carrying sway dangerously as he leaps down another sewer grate. 

“For what purpose?” Cassandra’s voice rings back. 

Leo shoves the latch for the lair with his foot. “You know, the big Re-re launch of the Luo Jitsu: Stars in Five Separate Dimensions, the game the movie the game the sequel. Duh.” 

“Do not ‘duh’ at me when you are speaking entire nonsense.” 

Leo laughs, rolling his eyes. Cassandra’s brand of humor has taken on a new thread with her division from the Foot. She’s apparently going to mechanic classes now, and sass lessons if these conversations have anything to say for it. “Nonsense, she says. Fifth biggest Lou Jistsu fan I know, and she’s pretending not to know about the largest night of the past two years. Sure.” 

The pause throws him off. He can hear her brain whirling across the line. “Are you referring to the biggest gaming night of the year when the new hockey immersive VR game becomes legal to play in four states? That’s next month.” 

“What— No,” he pulls his phone away from his face in disgust. Yes, it’s Cassandra’s icon, and her voice but honestly, this could be a bodysnatchers moment. He’s had weirder weekends.

“Then no, I do not know what you speak of. Should you like me to come over and resoundingly beat you into a pulp over video games, I accept.” 

“I—” Leo’s brain… skips. Resetting. Another thought lines up neatly in the space between. “Right. Yeah, I — man I don’t know what I’m talking about. Just come over and play Mario Kart or something fun. I have pizza.” 

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but you usually have pizza,” She says, because snark lessons are working over time apparently, and hangs up. 

He’s positive for a long moment that he’s dreaming— that’s what gets him. The line between the skipping do-over dreams and these blips of forgetting are getting more and more unclear. He’s in space and he’s alone, and then he’s awake and Donnie’s new invention is in the living room, and he remembers that they don’t use it for a whole lot these days anyways. He’s with the Krang and he hurts and then he’s awake and his brothers aren’t around and it hurts anyways. He doesn't remember home being so cold, but it is and it's real and maybe Leo's just losing his mind.

It’s just that he’s been misremembering a lot of things, small sections of his brain just smoothed over somehow, missing all of the regular information. He wants to tell Donnie, he should tell Don, it just— it seems like a much larger deal than he knows his genius twin could possibly actually deal with. He might be an honorary MENSA member, but he’s not a brain surgeon at the end of the day; it’s easier to go along with things when he can, until he can’t. 

It’s not even clear why he doesn’t remember, he didn’t get that bad of a concussion during the Krang events— most of the punching had been to his sides and chest actually. He’d been totally fine the first few weeks. It’s like a slow settling poison, whatever this is. He’s partially convinced himself it’s just a lack of sleep, or that he’s missing some sort of key vitamin; he really needs to start eating genuine meals instead of boxed things, honestly. He can’t tell Donnie, because if it is his brain he knows Donnie can’t fix it. He won’t do that to him until he has to. It’s his problem, anyways— it never seems to be about anything major at least. He’d caught himself nearly calling April over to the lair, as if she’d ever been over to their new place after the old one was destroyed. He remembers there wasn’t an old lair, April just hasn’t ever come over. He sets up too many chairs for game nights and no one shows up, because some part of him forgot that they hadn’t hosted a family night since he was six. 

Through it all, there’s a constant ever-lying thrum he can’t name.

“Hey, uh, Dad?” Leo calls, stepping into the living room. He’s shuffled the pizzas off into the kitchen, and remembered that it’ll really just be him and Cassandra probably. Again, evidently. Don is doing something in the lab, his old one downstairs, and made it clear after Leo’s last interruption he had to be invited first— a rule they’d never had before. Leo had always been able to tromp through his twins space as easy as breathing. Raph is out, as he is most nights. The lair is quieter, the thrumming so loud he can hardly think. 

“Hm, Blue? What is it— oh, did you want the TV for something?” 

Leo shakes his head, hovering awkwardly beside the couch and tapping his foot with anxious energy he doesn’t even understand why he feels. This is a bad idea, he thinks. The thrumming is prickling at him like knives pressed outwards, though, and if he doesn’t tell someone he thinks he might snap entirely down the center of himself anyways. It’s still a bad idea, it’s the only idea he has. 

“Can I talk to you, about ah— something?” 

He winces at his own words, and watches Splinter shift, expression dropping serious and worried all at once. He turns the TV off and pats the space beside him on the couch. “What is it, my son.” 

Shell, he hates this. Either Dad will think he’s insane or immediately tell Don anyways and none of it will matter. He bites his lip. “I just— I’m worried about Raph,” he ends up saying. 

Dad blinks, his face twitches into something more thoughtful. “I do not know what he does being out so late every night, but I’m sure he is safe.” 

Leo nods, pulling at loose thread on the blanket throw. “Course, yeah. I mean, that guy is the biggest worrywart I know, it’s just— do you, uh. Do you remember if he always… went out so late?” Leo doesn’t. Leo has been told it’s what Raph does and stared at as though he was the one out of touch until he found himself nervously playing along, but he doesn’t remember knowing any version of Raph that would leave so often. Any Raph that acted like couldn’t stand one more second of being around his family. 

Understanding flickers across Splinter’s face, his ears drop. For a moment, Leo’s overeager heart soars. 

“Ah, I see,” Splinter says, patting his hand. “You miss your big brother, is that it?” 

“I— well, yeah, sure, but—” Splinter clicks his tongue at him affectionately. 

“It is okay to miss Red, I miss him too. And Purple, when he’s locked away in his room. And you, when you’re too focused on your training.” 

He knows, he knows, it’s just that it doesn’t change even when they’re here in front of him. It’s like they don’t fit now, and he doesn’t understand why. 

“Blue, families can change and grow with time, sometimes the changing leads them to… wild new things like motorcycles and teenage rebellion,” Splinter continues, and Leo hears it, the softness he uses when he’s imparting parenting wisdom, and the brakes can’t be stopped so— “Red still loves you, he’s still your family.” He catches something in Leo’s face despite his own attempts to school it, and his dark eyes flicker for a moment. “Is this…about the Krang?” 

Crud. Leo twists his face up to stop from doing something stupid like sniffling. “No. That was so long ago now, pshaw. Anyways, I know, obviously, I’m Raph’s favorite. Nice to hear anyways, though.” 

Splinter chuckles, patting his hand again. “You know that he loves all of you the same. And so do I, Blue.” 

“I don’t— yeah, I know—” There’s no point, he can’t do it. Leo sighs. “I just— can you talk to him? About not staying out so much? We used to, yanno, have movie nights and stuff is all.” 

Splinter hums, tapping his chin. “Schedule your movie nights at April’s so I get the big TV and you have a deal.” 

Leo forces a laugh. Do they even hang out with April like that anymore? Imagining a world where they don’t is awful, inherently cold and empty in a way he immediately doesn’t care to allow. “Sure.” 

There’s a pause, the thrumming is still there— the moment’s passed though, he’d only make Splinter worry more. 

“You know, this place used to be filled with a lot more… laughter,” Splinter says, after a moment. “I will talk to your brother.” 

“Okay,” Leo says in a breath. There’s something there, almost. If Raph can spend more time at home, maybe they can drag Don out, too. Maybe it’ll feel right, and he can let it go and stop checking the front door, and maybe his brain will start working so he doesn’t have to put all that weight on his twin brother anyways.

The almost’s never seem to make it anymore, though.

___

It starts to really hit him a few days later. 

“--earned it from you, big bro.” 

‘You can’t do this’ He threw himself forward but there was that flicker again, the sideways pull and he was alone on the rock where the Krang threw him except it was just him and— 

‘I have to, I’m sorry. You keep leaving,,’ and it sounded like a plea, like a cry for help disguised as a big brave step forward, and everything in him coalesced forwards like he’d only ever known how to do just that. Like he’d only always known how to bend and soften at that voice, like it broke every part of himself just to hear it wavering like this. 

He wakes up from a dream and he can’t remember it; there are tears pouring from his eyes and this big hiccuping sob lodged somewhere behind it, and he can feel it— the heart shaped puzzle piece that’s been scoured right out of his chest, an essential part, something he can’t be without, but he can’t even remember what it looked like. 

You don’t, he thinks. You don’t have to. Just let it be me, I chose it already anyways. You can’t take that away.

‘I can!’ it echoes off the nothing around them, off the something because they’re in the air again, and everyone else was pushed off but the two of them, and he’s holding the totem to lock the door and he’s listening to the broken comms on the other side. ‘Look at me, it’s okay. I’m the only one who can. And— and it’s okay. Because you’ll all just forget, so it’ll be okay. You won’t miss me—’

Of course I will. He’s angry, he’s furious and desperate, he’s not sure anything he says is reaching anything at all but he’s more certain of anything that it has to. I’ll miss you more than anything. 

‘I’ve already changed it, you can’t stop it. I just— I wanted to say—’ 

There should be alarms, he thinks distantly, panic and dread and grief white hot behind his teeth. Blaring red alert rolling alarms, because the world had ended and none of them were moving fast enough, and he was just going to forget again when he— 

“Oh god,” Leo gasps, throwing himself off his bed— catching his feet messily in the absolute tangle of sheets and crashing to the ground instead. His hands are trembling, there’s a pained animalistic noise tearing itself somewhere in his ribs because the thrumming has become a black hole in his gut. He’s nauseous in the same way he feels entirely gutted, devastated all the way through to his center and he needs to get to the bathroom, to Donnie, to anyone— 

He feels like the floor has just vacuumed itself through an airlock and there isn’t enough air anywhere at all in the world, and he can’t remember why. 

“--eo, what are you…? I swear to— Leo!” 

He has his hands pressed tight against his neck, he can feel his own heartbeat absolutely rabbitting underneath but it’s real. He can feel it and it’s real. He’s here, at least— if that matters. He can’t remember if it matters. The pain hasn’t gone anywhere even with Donnie in the room, like it usually does. Because there’s nowhere else for it to go, he thinks nonsensically. It’s gone, the place it goes is gone. 

“Dee,” he gasps out, pleading for…for nothing, really. For anything. 

“I got you, Nardo,” Donnie’s voice is closer, his hands are hovering nervously around the heaving galloping black hole that is all of Leo before settling on his shoulders. “Up we go, okay? Just, breathe. In and out, follow me.”  He pulls up a diagram, an unfolding square that refolds, breathing exaggeratedly along with it. Leo tries to wrangle himself into himself, feel around the pit of nothing in his chest, breathe long enough to chase away the gray in his vision at least. It feels pointless, breathing through a straw at the end of the world�� he can’t possibly keep his heart beating one more second, but it does, and then it does again. 

“That’s it,” Donnie says, his hand rubbing circles against Leo’s neck. “Better, okay. Keep doing that.” He sounds anxious, tense in the ice cold–locked up way he gets. Leo’s chest aches. “You’re not running a fever, no proximity alarms were tripped so— bad dream?”

The cataclysm in his heart is stilling, like it’s being put to sleep more and more with every word. Every realignment of real and not real— part of him is terrified by this, like it wants to scramble it back. Leo shakes his head, still wheezing. Nods after a moment. Pauses, and embarrassingly bursts into tears again in spite of himself. 

“Woah! Woah, okay, okay. Got it, no questions. You’re fine, you don’t have to tell me.” 

He holds his hand out— it’s something they used to do, when they were little. Don had learned something about otters holding hands when they slept so they wouldn’t drift off, and Leo had gotten it in his head that since they were in a sewer, it was possible they’d float away at night too. He’d held Don’s hand every night until they all split off into their own separate rooms when they got older, palm to palm, holding onto Don’s wrist. Even after they had their own beds, Don would sneak in if he felt like Leo wasn’t sleeping good; they haven’t needed to in years. 

Leo latches himself onto his brother's hand like a lifeline. This is real too, he tells himself. It makes the horrified part of him wail with something like grief anyways.

“Okay, alright Leon. I’m not going anywhere, okay? Breathe.” 

Leo tries to hold each breath like water in his hands, imagine himself filling up that space inside him. The idea is so instantly horrendous, a murky swirling bog where something was— he doesn’t know why— it chokes him into another sobbing fit for a moment. “Sorry, jeez— jeeze. I’m sorry, ugh.” 

He can practically hear Don’s eye roll. “Can we get up off the floor now?” 

Leo nods, shakily. He grips Don’s wrist even harder, but lets himself be dragged back into bed. 

“Want some water?” Don asks; Leo stares down at their joined hands and feels a spike of panic in him. It must trip something on Don’s weird chip, he glances down at the screen. “Ohhkay. Nope, nixing that plan, sure. We can just dehydrate.” 

“Sorry,” Leo wheezes again. He knows Don is trying so hard right now, too, or he would have made some annoyed comment about hating unnecessary apologies. He stays silent, squeezing back just as hard. 

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” He asks, after a moment. 

Leo winces. 

“Or, I could invent some never before seen and heard of technology and just dive right into that awful little brain of yours and figure it out anyways, if you want.” 

Leo snorts. “You have that already. ‘S called being stuck with me.” 

“Hm. True. Doesn’t give me all the answers, though.” 

He wishes it would. Don’s brain could probably work out exactly what to do  in five seconds if he had the opportunity to mess around in Leo’s fuzzed out brain. Maybe that was the problem. Leo lets out a long breath, ducking his head to nudge against Don’s shoulder. 

“I think there’s something wrong with me,” he admits, to the space between them where their hands sit. 

“I will refrain from my default response of ‘beyond the usual’ or any other witty remark this one time, on the grounds that you’re kind of a mess right now. Know that I did think it for the record, though.” 

“Noted,” Leo smiles, waterlogged and wavering. 

Donnie shifts, pulling his free arm up around Leo’s shoulders. They fall silent for a second, just the wet and choked off sounds of Leo wrangling his own heart rate surrounding them. Don pulls him closer, a half hug. “You know. Whatever it is, I’ll fix it.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut, the ghost of that all consuming grief still wrapping itself around his throat. Donnie’s fixed everything since he was able to hold a screwdriver, his faith in his brother is as unshakeable as his understanding of cool action films, as his belief in his family. He knows his brother would try to fix it, and would get closer than anyone else possibly could. Maybe he’s not sure there is anything to fix.

“What if you can’t?” It comes out small. 

Donnie’s arm squeezes tighter, steel in his frame. “I will.” 

It’s nice, he thinks. To pretend like Don’s got all the answers. “I’m sorry I went through the wormhole,” He says instead. Sorry I almost left you, he says with the way he leans farther into Don’s side. 

Don lets out a sharp breath. “No, you’re not.”  He isn't wrong, Dee knows him best.

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry, anyways.”

He can feel Don’s heart beating against his fingertips, can feel the sharp and bending curve of him at his side. Palm to palm so they don’t float apart— maybe Don’s grip is also tighter than usual. He can manage to feel bad about that, maybe, in spite of himself. 

“I’m used to it,” Don says, after another long moment. Subdued. As long as you come back. As long as you let me bring you back, he says with the squeeze of his hand, the way he won’t look at Leo at all. 

___

“Purple told me about your dream last night,” Dad says, looking worn and serious in a way that makes him look far older than Leo is comfortable with noticing. “Do you want to explain, Leonardo?”

They’re sitting around the kitchen table, and his head is in his hands staring down at the whorls in the wood. There’s a carving, he knows, just to his elbow that he and Raph had put there when they were kids, it’s just that for a moment he could have sworn that it wasn’t from Raph at all. He’d been lost staring at the cupboard for a moment with a dark, inkblot feeling around his throat until Dad had startled him out of it, looking at their old favorite mugs. He doesn’t remember his being any of these. He’s certain, for a moment, that his had been a hand painted one, lopsided by the handle. He can’t find it anywhere, though. 

He’d asked Dad when they’d thrown it out, and gotten a blank stare in return. 

‘The… the splotchy one,’ he’d said, panic lacing in behind his eyeballs with its intensity. ‘You know. I always drink tea from it with you.’ 

Splinter shakes his head slowly. ‘I am… sorry my son.’ 

A hysterical laugh frayed at his throat, he’d lost the fight in shoving it back down. ‘There’s a smiley face on the side by my thumb, you know. Don said it was ugly and we got into a big fight when we were like ten. I drink out of that mug every day, because it—’ He couldn’t remember where that sentence was going suddenly, like the words scooped themselves directly from his lungs. Evaporated. ‘I… I know it is. Where did you put it? Did— if Raph broke it, that’s okay, I can fix it.’ 

‘You’ve only ever used this mug, Blue,’ Dad had said, holding an Eeyore mug. Leo feels his mind snap in three places, reconnect. It’s slower this time, more painful. Maybe that’s him, breaking. 

‘Right,’ Leo laughed, squeaky and high. ‘Sorry.’ 

“They’re just dreams.” He says, like it burns on the way out. “I’m just not sleeping well.” 

“He’s been waking up every few hours,” Don throws in, because of course he’s been tracking that, too.

“Hey—” he tries, and catches Raph’s serious, unhappy face as he lifts his head. The way he looks frailer around the edges, exhausted the same way Leo is. Oh.

Raph sighs. “He’s jumpy. Confused. I thought…” He makes eye contact with Leo and looks away. “I thought maybe the Krang incident rattled him, was all. But it’s been months,” 

“My son,” Dad adds, before Leo can process any of that. “Why did you not tell me?” 

Shell, he thinks. Shit, for emphasis. “It’s just bad dreams,” he shrugs. “What’s there to tell?” 

Don snorts, crossing his arms. “Just bad dreams he says, as though regular disruption to your REM cycle bears no long term effects like, say, spacing out. Forgetting where my lab is. Dialing the wrong number when trying to reach me, your twin brother who literally programmed your phone.” Oh, right, yeah. He had done that. 

Burying his face in his arms seems like the best approach to all of this. The gnawing thrum is back, wilder like a firestorm in the back of his mind— it seems to get louder when he’s aware of it, he’s not sure what that means. 

“Leo,” Raph’s voice is tired, too. Why is everyone so tired? “You can talk to us, you know that right? We just want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“Stop being so,” Leo struggles to find a word in between burying his forehead father into his arms. “Reasonable. Ugh.” 

Splinter pats at his arm, comfortingly. He debates the merits of coming clean, then of feigning a sudden illness, or playing up some hidden head injury that miraculously resolves itself before Don can pull out any of his scarier tech. A wave of exhaustion pulls at him. “I’ll fix it,” Donnie had said. Maybe it’s embarrassing to want to believe anyone can fix this at all, but it’s his family, and this is the most he’s seen them in months and despite what everyone tells him, he doesn’t remember a time things were like this at all. He doesn’t remember a version of himself that would have been content to let it happen. 

There’s something there. An invisible wall he’s walking into while everyone else skirts around it. If only he didn’t keep forgetting what he was dreaming about— he lets out a long, long breath, dropping his head even lower until his brow presses into the wood directly. 

“I’m. Forgetting things.” He mumbles to it, shoulders high around his head. The silence that follows is long enough he almost thinks they didn’t hear him at all. 

Don clears his throat first. “Forgetting… what.” He sounds ominous, tight laced. Exactly what Leo was afraid of. He scrunches up his beak in response. 

“Everything. You, Raph— I don’t remember why April hasn’t visited. Or, or where your lab is. Cassandra doesn’t care about Lou Jitsu games, no one watches Jupiter Jim. It’s all— I don’t know.” 

Dad takes in a breath, Leo can hear him consciously making sure to keep it measured and slow.  “Is this because of the Krang?” 

Leo shakes his head, digging further into the grooves of the tabletop. “No, I — I don’t know. Maybe? Everything was fine, and then. It wasn’t. It’s like I’m—” Missing something. It’s like there’s a big glaring neon sign directly in front of him that he can’t see, some obvious clue like a protagonist in a horror film that the audience is throwing popcorn at. 

“Do you…. Do you ever imagine there’s like. A memory that you had, but something happened, and then you lost it. And you don’t remember enough about it to know what it was, but it’s like part of you knows that it's gone anyways?” He feels insane, he can’t look up at his brothers, he can only close his eyes and wish himself somewhere else where the black hole in him is quiet. “Sorry, that’s— I mean, maybe I am just tired. Just feels… different, lately. I keep looking at the front door like someone’s gunna walk in any second, isn’t that weird?” 

No one speaks, Leo sinks lower. 

What if whatever is wrong with him is contagious? What if saying it out loud is the thing that breaks this wide open on all of them. What if nothing happens at all, and it’s just Leo and his brain and some unknowable horrid thing wrong with him that makes him feel like half of himself is missing somewhere else. 

What if he’s right?

“You remember the other day, Raph? You said something about me reading comics, staying home from April’s and reading comics.”

“...Yeah.”

Leo digs his fingers into the back of his head. “I walked into Donnie’s lab because I couldn’t remember where the comics were, and it’s like I just, went through the door. Then— I mean, none of us own comics. Why did you say that?”

Raph starts, stops. “I… don’t remember.”

Don breathes, long and shaky. “I put a chip on you and Raph and Dad because I thought—” His voice is flat, quiet, and breaks neatly down the middle. Leo freezes, tenses on the spot. “I had this feeling. Like there was a problem I’d missed, like I hadn’t perfected something important. I drew all these schematics and they didn’t make sense— and I knew, they were for something specific, but I had no idea why or what. I have inventions I don’t remember making, too— I thought someone else left their things in my room but they all have my logo on them.”

“I asked April for tea,” Dad adds in, slow and confused. “Orange pekoe. I have never drank orange pekoe.” 

Don continues. “You told me you hate pro skateboarding the other day and I nearly vaporized you on the spot because I thought you were a clone. And then it was like, my brain just. Caught up. Remembered all these things that didn’t fit anymore.” 

Leo stares at the table, lifts his head up so sharply his vision swims, and stares at his brother. “Yeah. Yeah. Like, like you’re reading a new script.” 

Holy shit, he thinks. They all nod, slowly. 

“I thought it was me,” Leo says. 

Don shakes his head. “I’ve been doing tests. Measurements and scans— I can’t get a read on it so I haven’t brought it up yet.” He shrugs. “It’s… it’s weird, Leon. I don’t make measurement errors.” 

“But you have been,” Leo says, slowly. 

Don breathes out, heavily. 

“Your math,” Raph says, simply. Leo’s gaze shoots towards him; his big brother looks haggard, dark circles around his eyes that Leo hadn’t noticed before. “Donnie, your math. Why’s it always wrong?” He’s gripping the table top awfully tightly, Leo notices. White knuckled bone pressing upwards into the harsh kitchen lighting, like it’s the only thing keeping him upright. His big brother has always been unmovable, no matter what was thrown at them. He was okay, and would figure it out, and would help them brute force things back where they should be if they had to. He looks... small, suddenly. Just a kid.

“Woah, Raph, maybe you should take it easy for a second—” Leo starts. 

“Four,” Don cuts him off. He looks vaguely haunted as well now, eyes dark. “I keep dividing by four.” 

___

“I kept driving around at night to find someone, I was so sure they were in danger. Raph thought he was losing it,” Raph says, rubbing a hand across his eyes. 

“Me too,” Leo admits. “Thought Donnie was going to have to lobotomize me.” 

“Easy to do when you already are missing a brain,” Donnie mutters. They’ve moved down to the living room — invited Casey and Cassandra and April over, too. Draxum, despite Leo’s better judgment, is lurking somewhere in the kitchen area as well. Leo keeps holding Don’s hand, seemingly unable to stop now that the words are out there, and Don hasn’t asked him to let go yet either. 

Raph glances between them both, tense. “Stupid of me to not tell either of you. Should have known,” he offers with a weak smile. “We’re always in this together.” 

Leo shrugs, “Sounds like we all did the same thing. In my defense, I thought I was concussed.” 

“So,” April joins in, hesitantly. “You’ve all been… remembering things wrong, too? Because— I mean, you said that you were going to get Casey to guide me down here like I didn’t know the way, and then. I mean it was weird…” 

“Oh thank god,” Leo sags in relief. “You not having been here before was bothering me so much.” 

“And your dreams, Blue,” Dad cuts in, tucked up in his arm chair with a cup of steaming tea he hasn’t touched. He looks guilt ridden too, in a way Leo hates. “They’re not just about what happened?” 

“No, well. They are but. They… change? It’s like a hundred different versions of the same thing. Sometimes April’s there, or Casey, or no one is.” He shudders, a flash of some dream he had crossing his mind vaguely. “I can’t remember most of them anymore now, but it. I don’t know. I feel like. Something important happened, is that insane?” 

Casey looks at him searchingly, he always seems so heartbroken by all of their struggles in a way that makes Leo want to wrap him in bubble wrap until he’s 30. “Not more insane than anything else,” Casey says somberly. 

“Do we have, like, memory problems? In the future?”

Casey shakes his head. “Not that I know of. You all had stories about how things were that were pretty detailed. We had to memorize new map locations that came through pretty quickly, too.”

Everyone falls silent for a moment. April clears her throat. 

“And… and you think this is all happening, because…. Someone went missing.” 

Leo turns to look at Don— his brows are pulled so far down they’re basically a flat line, pinched in the middle as he works frantically on his laptop. It all looks like graphs and numbers to Leo. 

“I keep dividing by the wrong number.” He states, quietly. “There’s three of us, and yet I’m accounting for a fourth. It only happens when I’m not thinking about it, like—”

“Muscle memory,” Raph finishes. 

Leo looks out at everyone— there’s a reserved energy, like a thick fog of some kind of grief pulled down across them all. Maybe he’d expected someone to react like it was silly, make some kind of joke of things, maybe it would have helped make it feel less awful for it to be a big mass hallucination on their part. Leaky sewer pipe, or something. The severity is both aggravating and reassuring all in one. 

“I kept setting the table for five of us for dinner,” Leo says with a helpless shrug. 

Raph nods. “Our training sessions— we keep leaving our backs open, and I couldn’t figure out why. Like someone’s supposed to be there.” 

To imagine it is kind of devastating in pieces and wholes, Leo thinks. Someone so intrinsically a part of them, someone they worked around unthinkingly, just vanishing like that. Without even the courtesy of letting them mourn. Everyone stays silent for another long moment, that veil of grief is heavier— they don’t even know this person, someone that left a crater so large whatever bullshit vaporized their memory from all of their minds couldn’t even be lifted fully. Like the planet lost its axis without them, like they were constantly bumping into an outline of a person without even realizing. 

“How does that happen?” Leo’s own voice sneaks up on him, he hadn’t meant to speak. Or maybe he had. He’s angry, suddenly, like shakingly, virulently angry— big red neon light style. “No, seriously. How— they just get erased from our lives like that? Without anyone even seeing it?” How did we not notice, he thinks, desperately. “It was one of us, right?” Leo turns to Don, to Raph, to Dad. “Like, like a sibling? And we just… what, forgot them? How does that happen?” 

“Leo…” Raph tries, holding a hand out. There’s an anvil in Leo’s heart, it’s sinking so far down with every step further into this reality he’s forced to reconcile with. 

“No! I— Come on, we don’t even remember them. There’s nothing at all left behind, and yet, because whoever this was mattered so much we still felt it— and that just happens? How does that happen?” 

It shouldn’t, he thinks of forgetting any one of his family and feels like his atoms are misaligned. The idea that any one of them could just be stitched over, skipped like a video feed; his stomach churns dangerously.

A chair drags noisy across the tile, and everyone's attention snaps up. “There are legends,” Draxum starts. “Mystic connections to time and space itself.” He meets Leo’s eye levelly— there’s a catch in them, too, Leo realizes. He doesn’t know why Draxum is included in these events, he made them, sure but he’d also thrown Leo off a rooftop. He’d been antagonizing them for months, and he’d gotten defeated by the Shredder, and they’d all moved on. There’s a gap in his mind, between that Draxum and this one; no explanation for his place here today except for that he is. Because whoever this was that they lost, he mattered to Draxum too, didn’t he?

“If said person possessed enough power, they could feasibly stretch across both the folding dimensions, hypothetically.” 

Don gasps, an aborted noise. “Like… a hole in time.” 

Casey freezes, sitting up taller. 

Leo thinks about his dreams, about being trapped in the nothing and not believing he ever left. Not remembering what got him out at all. A voice telling him that everything would be okay.

“It would take a lot of power,” Draxum continues. “Possibly too much. To change one thread in the thousands like that, I imagine such a feat would be felt across the whole tapestry.” 

“Maybe it already has,” Leo says, detached. Thousands of possible realities, changing and pulling in a million different ways— Leo and the Krang standing on an asteroid, a hundred different outcomes flashing back and forth on a loop, over and over. Looking at his own front door and waiting for someone to come home, even with everyone he loves sitting directly in front of him.

The last dreams, the ones he doesn’t remember— waking up feeling like someone died in front of him. 

He stands up, sudden and sharp— wrenching his hand from Don’s without thinking. “How do we stop it. How do— how do we change it back.” 

Draxum meets his intensity with a cool stare, holding a teacup in his hands carefully. “There may not be. I’ve never heard of such a way.” 

Bullshit, Leo thinks— “If they brought Casey here, they did it again. To get me back. That’s two times, that shouldn’t be possible either, from what you’re saying. So— so just do it again.” He clenches his fist so hard it hurts. “No one remembers how I got out. I should have died in there, with the Krang, right? We closed the portal, so—  But I’m back, because whoever this is brought me back. That shouldn’t have been possible. So we punch a hole through time again.” No one moves, Cassandra keeps his stare levelly, gravely.  “If it takes more power, we have the strongest team the world’s ever seen right here, don’t we?”

Draxum arches a brow. “A lot of effort for someone you cannot recall, is it not? It might put you all at risk as well.” 

It doesn’t matter, Leo wants to say. They did it for me first. He doesn’t care if it’s painful or dangerous or anything else. All he knows is that there’s a gaping maw inside him that he can see now reflected in all of his family where this person is supposed to be. Someone who changed their three to four, someone that made them have half-memories about movie nights and laughter in the lair and someone he misses so badly without knowing that his entire soul feels like it’s hollowed out without them. 

“Maybe this person wanted to go,” Draxum, crosses his arms. “You’d give up so much for someone you don’t remember?”

‘I just— I wanted to say—’

“He’s my son,” Splinter speaks up fiercely, protectively. Everyone falls silent. Splinter falls backwards a step, having leapt to his full height out of seemingly instinctive rage. He looks surprised with himself, then— quietly grief stricken, the same time as Leo’s concaving chest collapses like a burnt out star. 

“Muscle memory,” Raph whispers, agonizingly. 

It echoes around the still room. The hallways seem more expansive in the face of it— a ghost exiting the stage with a rush of air, or one finally being noticed. 

He’s lived in these halls for his whole life, packed in with his three most favorite people in the world to get by the way only their family could. There’s a scuff on the stone just at knee height by the entrance from when he tried to land a backflip on skateboard and broke his arm, theres lines reaching up to just barely five feet around the corner from it. Three sets: red, purple, and blue. 

Maybe now, when he looks around, he’s starting to notice all the empty places. Leo feels like his heart is squeezing through his ribcage with how hard it aches.

Leo squares his shoulders, turns towards his family— there are tears in Casey’s eyes, Donnie has stopped typing frantically and seems to be staring at nothing on the floor. The realization is rocking through all of them in differing stages of devastation. 

“My brother,” He wavers, choking back a well of emotion. “My brother is out there. We’re getting him home.” 

___

“Your dreams are crucial for this to work,” Draxum says. “We’re going to use them as a door.” 

Leo takes the tea Dad makes for him and wills his hands not to shake. 

“Everyone else will focus on Leonardo, follow that thought to where he leads you.”

His last dream is only remnants in his mind, but he’s not sure he could go through it again anyways. Good thing they’re changing it this time then, he supposes. Raph sits cross legged in front of him, closing his eyes with a deep breath. Leo’s hit with the horrible thought of losing any of them the same way, waking up and forgetting they’d ever been here to begin with. His palms itch. 

“Hope we have enough juice in us to pull him back,” Leo jokes, weakly. 

Casey sits beside him, spine straight. He leans a little towards Leo, bumping their shoulders. “I… I don’t remember him, but he must have been there. There’s…. There’s holes if I think too hard. If he was anything like the rest of you, he’ll be fighting just as hard to get back.”

The idea of some vague outline of his brother, an amalgamation of the two beside him, running himself to pieces lost in the dark is hard to swallow also. Raph clears his throat. “Maybe he just needs a bit of a boost.” 

April nods, plopping beside Raph fixedly. “And that’s what we’re going to do.” 

Leo looks at Dad, who’s been quiet ever since the revelation hit them all. Dad shifts, placing a paw on Leo’s shoulder— he looks tired, pinched, like someone closed their eyes and drew him with wobbling outlines. Leo knows how he feels, it aches all the same. He puts his hand on top of Dad’s. 

“Yeah, we got this.” 

Leo drinks the tea and breathes out. It hits him fast — at first, he’s floating in the dark; the difference hits him funny, he doesn’t exactly remember any of the dreams but he knows they start before the fight ends. He knows they never begin with him being by himself. 

It reminds him of a time when they were younger, when Dad had to go scavenge for food and scraps alone and leave them behind with stern orders to stay put. They never really did, of course. 

There was a day where it had been storming up top, he remembers the way the pipes groaned and rushed with the rain like growling monsters in the stone walls, warped by all the empty tunnels and spaces in the shadows. Dad had left to grab food for the next few days, in case any of the pipes did burst as the storm went on or a tunnel threatened to collapse. He remembers that Dad hadn’t wanted to leave them at all, he’d been nervous and anxious and promised to be back in an hour at most. They’d all felt it, staying bundled up for the most part instead of ambling off their creaking furniture or stealing the two markers that were half dried up with use. 

Don had been hungry, he’d had a mild fever, Leo thinks— Don had caught every bug that meandered through the grates in those days, before he figured out which vitamins they were missing and how much sunlight they needed. He remembers the way Don shivered, tucked in at his side. Leo had decided he would be the one to make Donnie soup, despite Raph’s protests. He’d squirmed his way out of the blankets, and taken a few steps towards their makeshift kitchen before the thunder rocked miles above and rattled through every part of New York.

He remembers the way that the generator they siphoned had cut out when he made it through the doorway. 

It’s silly now, maybe— his brothers had been a few feet away, he was still in his house. He could hear Raph calling for him, the sound of his big brother fighting the blankets and Dee’s dazed mumbles and complaints with it. He knew even then that he wasn’t really in danger. It was just that Donnie had just showed him the otter videos, and the pipes were roaring at him, and he’d never actually been anywhere he felt scared at all before. 

There’d been approximately fifteen seconds before Raph crashed into him, another thirty minutes before Dad burst back into the lair and brought the flashlights out from the side drawer, and lit candles for them. Fifteen seconds for Leo to imagine that he was completely alone. 

A much older Leo, then, riding the adrenaline off saving the day— holding a photograph close to his chest, comms fizzling in his ear— 

He’s on the asteroid, ah. This is familiar. 

He’s always here in his mind— the Krang stalking towards him, the light of the ship's explosion dancing like fireworks in the distance. He holds the photograph in his hand, because he’s alone, he’s so alone, but it was worth it. The Krang approaches, tail flicking as it practically curves over him in rage. He’s okay with all of this, really, if it means— 

“Get away from him!” Raph yells, and suddenly there’s a streak of red crashing into the Krang, knocking it through the rock. A flash of purple, and Don’s battle shell appears beside him.

“Could you imagine something more relaxing next time? Like I dunno, a boiling pit of lava? This isn’t nearly terrifying enough.” Don’s hand hovers over his shoulder, like he’s not sure where to put it for a second. Leo grabs at his wrist, overcome by relief for a moment before the words hit. Right, imagine. Because he got out, he didn’t bring his brothers here, they brought themselves. 

“I’m dreaming,” He reminds himself. 

“You are, which is good. My tech can’t really do anything special when we’re in a mystical mental plane, so. Do your, yanno, ‘thing’.” 

“We got the big guy for you!” April crows, he can see her backflipping off the Krang’s head, Casey swinging in to kick at its knees. 

Right. He was here, and something got him out— when he dreams this, there’s always things changing, always things that happen differently. He’s usually here alone, facing down the inevitable reality that there’s no more doors; it was his plan, to do anything to get rid of the threat, no matter what that meant but living it was different. It didn’t happen like this, he knows, but he made it out anyways.

He can feel his family around him, just like the kitchen and the dark. There’s fifteen seconds before Raph crashes into him. Fifteen seconds of him in the dark and— there was someone else there, wasn’t there? 

Leo hadn’t decided to make Donnie soup alone. He’d gone with someone, because… because his brother knew how to heat the soup up the way Dad did, and he was older so he could open the cans. He’d been holding someone’s hand as the room went dark. 

He remembers distantly in all of his dreams here, there’s always someone he’s arguing with. Someone he’s losing. Whoever his brother is, he’s been here with him all along.

“You know, you’re really not supposed to be able to be here,” A voice speaks up. It’s choked in that desperately sad and relieved way all in one that he knows, he knows because it’s— 

Leo’s eyes snap open. His brother’s are fighting the Krang with April and Casey and Dad and Cassandra, and he’s sitting at the rock with the photograph, except he’s above it. He’s looking at the dark, and there’s someone holding his hand. 

He blinks. Blue eyes meet his, teary and bright as always. “Mikey—” he breathes, instinctive, like the name is pulled from the very core of himself. 

His brother smiles a heartbreakingly grateful smile. “You’re really not supposed to be able to do that, either.” 

Leo whirls towards him, grabbing immediately for his brother as some unnamable panic crests over him. His hands sink right through thin air, but he can see him— god, he can see Mikey. 

There’s a light hovering orange around his brother’s form emitting a low glow, like he’s a stick on star. They put those in their bedroom, he remembers suddenly. They had them on the ceiling because Mikey had been afraid of the dark, Leo had carefully climbed all the way up on top of the rickety bunk bed and glued them all on without asking Dad, just to make sure Mikey wasn’t scared. He could still see the outlines of them years later. 

“How— Mikey, what happened, I— oh my god, I forgot you—” How did he let that happen, how could he? His only baby brother, their Angelo. “I’m so sorry.” 

Mikey shakes his head, he’s still smiling even though there’s a pinch to his face that Leo immediately can’t stand. “You didn’t, I made you forget. It’s okay Leo.” 

“It’s not! I— it was so messed up without you, I— Raph keeps ditching us and Dad’s tired and, and nobody reads comics anymore!”

Mikey laughs, wet and sad, and it’s still the best thing Leo’s ever heard. He can’t believe he went months without remembering it. When they get back, he’s going to put on all of Mikey’s favorite stupid videos and listen to him laugh for hours just to make sure he remembers it exactly right every day for the rest of their lives. 

Leo barrels forward, still trying to grab any part of his brother; he’s like sand, he’s like water, the pieces of him are streaming through Leo’s finger tips. “It’ll be okay now though, we— Raph will stay in if you’re here, and Don’s stuff’s in your room, but we can move it. He’ll make you a bigger room if you want, you know he will—” 

“Leo,” Mikey cuts in, carefully. Hedging. Leo’s heart crashes through into nothing, he swallows roughly. 

“No,” He tries for a laugh, he remembers this now. He knows what Mikey is going to say. “You’re wrong, stop it. You said— you told me that it was the only way, that we’d all forget.” 

Mikey’s shoulders lift and drop, slow and tired. “You did. It’s okay.” 

“It’s as far away from okay as it can possibly be! You said we wouldn’t miss you, but I did, Mike. I did anyways, we all did. We knew— there was this giant hole right in the middle of us. It shouldn’t be possible, you said it yourself— that means something, I know it does. So— stop trying to tell me to leave or, or whatever else you’re thinking. I’m not going anywhere without you, right now.” 

“I missed you,” Mikey’s crying now which activates every ounce of dread left in him. He looks exhausted, pale and drawn out even with the strange glow.  “Leo, I’ve been trying, you have to believe me.”

Leo shakes his head, furious with heartbreak. “Try harder, then!” His fists clench. He’s not having this same conversation again, he’s not waking up one more time feeling like the world just ended in front of him. He’s not doing this without Mikey, it’s not happening. “I’ll just keep coming back, you know I will. You see that down there?” He gestures at their family, fighting the Krang that isn’t even here anymore, just so Leo won’t have to face it by himself. “They’re not giving up on you. I’m not giving up. I won’t ever, Ang. Don’t ask me to.” 

“Leo—” He says with a sigh, like the decisions already been made. 

“Mikey, stop,” He practically growls, panicking; something crashes behind him, down below where the fights going, he doesn’t look. He refuses to take his eyes off Mikey for a second in case he decides to fade away again. There has to be something there. There’s something to this, he knows there is. Since Leo was small, there’s been a constant he’s held close. It’s proven itself over and over again; when Raph fought through the Krang control, when their Dad gave up the world to save them and they saved it too, every time his brothers pulled through the impossible. Together, they’re stronger than anything— he knows this, he knows it. Mikey put a hole in the world to keep Leo safe. The universe rewrote itself because he made it change, and it only took them a month or two to see the threads anyways. The thrum in him is louder again, but it feels tethered somehow here. Like he could wrap himself around the line of it in his chest and pull. 

“We’ll keep remembering, as long as it takes, you know we will. It doesn’t matter how many times we forget, we’ll always remember you I swear—  Michelangelo, you’re my only baby brother, you think something as stupid as the universe can take you from me?” 

The waterlogged smile he gets could power the sun, he’s sure of it. He leans his head forward, where their foreheads would touch if he could. 

“You have to come back. I don’t care what we have to fight, we’re getting our little brother home.” 

“I want to, Leo, I just— I don’t know how. Not without losing you.”

He wants to say he’d do it, he’d jump right into the black hole to switch places but he remembers how this always went. Mikey learned it from him, from Raph, from their Dad, after all. It wouldn’t fix anything to lose himself either— maybe that’s the lesson at the core here. Leo was never alone on the asteroid, because his baby brother was breaking through space to get to him. And Mikey should never be alone here.

“It’s okay, Angelo, I—” He swallows again, Mikey looks so, so tired. He’s been here for months, Leo realizes, watching them all skip over him and time rewrite without him—  He has an idea, maybe it’ll break everything but he would. For Mikey, he would. “When have we ever played by the rules, hey? Mad Dogs make our own path, right?” 

He'd do anything for his little brother, including break the universe back. Without hesitating, watching Mikey's expression shift from sad to confused, and just that touch of hopeful, he grabs that thread in him, the one that’s been bright and loud and constant for months, and he pulls. 

___

There’s a thunderstorm somewhere far enough— Mikey can hear it in the pipes, in the walls. He’d only seen the sky when it was like this once, rolling gray and dark with thick bolts of lightning scattering apart; through the sewer grates it had looked almost like TV static, far away and strange. It’s loud up there and down here, the water rushing past all the chunks of stone that make up their home and away. 

Leo doesn’t like it, Mikey knows. Every time it storms, his eyes get more white than dark. All big and round and alert, and he jumps at everything. He thinks Mikey doesn’t notice. 

Raphie says it's okay to be afraid of things, like going up top because it's dangerous and they can’t run away or hide good enough yet to be safe. Raph’s afraid of the little dolls that they sometimes find washed up at the bottom of tunnels, he says they have empty eyes and it makes him uneasy; Donnie says Raphie watched a movie on TV that he shouldn’t have. Mikey thinks he’s probably afraid of the monsters in the tunnels, even though Donnie says they aren’t real— he’s heard them, though. He’s sure of it. Donnie also says that people think his brothers are the monsters, which is silly. 

Donnie’s afraid of a big word Mikey never remembers— he says the sun will burn out one day like it runs out of juice and everything will freeze like an icicle forever. He says this like its obvious, but he spends a lot of time reading about it anyways like he can make it go forever if he tries. Mikey thinks he could, Dee made their TV work so it’s probably possible he can do anything. 

Mikey’s not sure what Leo’s afraid of. He knows the water is loud and sounds like the monsters are just outside the doors sometimes, and that they had to leave their old house because there was a pipe that was too old in a wall and it made all their food wet. Leo says he’s not afraid of water, though, and he cannonballs in as big and bright as Raphie whenever they swim in the big water spot down the way. Leo also says monsters aren’t real, and that he’d chase all of them off for Mikey if they were, and he doesn’t think Leo could do any of that if he was scared of them. 

He’s still jumpy when it’s stormy out, though, and never wants to go too far from their room when Dad leaves to find food or things they need. It sure seems like Leo is afraid of something, but Mikey knows his brothers and he knows that Leo is brave and funny and sometimes sneaks cookies from the top shelf for him even when he’s not supposed to. Leo’s not afraid, because it’s Mikey who’s always afraid. 

When Mikey was convinced there was a monster in their bathroom and had been too terrified to run and get Dad, Leo was the one who’d picked up his practice katana and charged in yelling. When Mikey and Leo had gotten stuck in the closet while they’d been playing hide and seek, Leo was the one who started telling him a big dramatic story so it would stop feeling so small. 

It is okay to be scared, but Leo never is. 

“Leo?” He calls— he’s too small to grab the big light, the one Dad says they should only use in emergencies, but it’s dark and Dad went to grab something outside, and Donnie’s been sick so he can’t fix it like he usually does. He thinks this is maybe an emergency. 

Mikey wasn’t supposed to even be away from his brothers when Dad went outside, but Leo had said he’d be right back before the lights went out and Raphie had asked him to check on him. The water is loud in the walls. 

“Leo? I— Raphie says to come back,” He tries again. His voice only wavers a little, and he’s pretty proud because he thinks he might actually be very scared standing in the dark by himself. He doesn’t remember their living room being so big, or the kitchen being so far away, but it feels like miles and miles. It’s cold out here, too. 

Something rattles around the corner near the kitchen. Mikey jumps before realizing it’s probably Leo— sometimes he plays pranks like that, hiding around a corner to jump out. He thinks it’s funny how loud Raph and Mikey will yell, but it’s not. Mikey made a promise to himself that he wouldn’t scream anymore so Leo would stop doing it— he squares his shoulders, and balls up his fists as best as he can. “It’s okay to be afraid,” Mikey tells himself softly.  

Donnie says being scared of the dark is natural, that it’s some behind the brain thought that means other turtles survived longer. Being nervous was helpful, once. Him and his brothers are going to be ninjas soon though, and ninjas weren’t scared or nervous, they were careful. Dad always says that, to be careful and sure. Mikey tries to walk more slowly, quietly— not because there are ghosts waiting for him, but because his stinky older brother that likes to scare him might be. And Mikey isn’t scared, because he’s like Leo. 

The kitchen is strange in the dark, it’s wide and tall, and Mikey doesn’t think he’s ever noticed how high the ceiling goes. There’s an extra splotch of darkness at the very top, he imagines as a big bug waiting for him, and swallows nervously. 

He manages a whisper. “Leo…?” 

He imagines a different time, coming through the dark kitchen. Maybe he’d help Leo with the soup because Mikey wasn’t old enough to use the can opener or reach all the pans, but he watched Dad make it real close, and he knows you have to turn the stove handle to the right dot to make it heat up best. Maybe Leo would be here, and he’d jump out at Mikey and he’d be brave enough to not flinch, and Leo would ruffle him on the head the way he does. 

“Um,” He swallows again, willing himself not to cry as he takes in the empty room around him. The pots and pans look menacing hanging above him like this, like teeth waiting to fall, and the splotch on the ceiling is moving he’s sure of it. The rush of the water seems louder, too, like it knows Mikey’s here and his brothers can’t find him because it’s too dark, and Dad isn’t home to fix it. “This isn’t funny, Leo.” 

Maybe none of them happen, because Mikey is in the kitchen in the dark, and he’s waiting for Leo and he’s scared, and there’s no Leo at all. He turns to look for the door, to go back and wait with his brothers— it’s too dark, suddenly, to see where the door is at all. A pipe groans, or maybe a monster growls, and he squeaks, throwing himself at the nearest wall. He tucks himself in small, holding his knees close. After a moment, nothing moves— another moment, another nothing. 

The room is darker now, he can’t even see the splotch on the ceiling. He’s not sure he’s in the kitchen at all. 

“I’m lost,” He says to his knees, and presses his face into them to hold himself smaller. 

Dad will be home, and he’ll turn the lights on, and everyone will make fun of Mikey for being so scared, and Leo will pop out of the corner he’s hiding in and maybe Mikey will even cry. It’s okay if they make fun of him, as long as it's not dark anymore. As long as he stops being alone. 

He thinks he’s maybe been alone for a long time. 

“--key! Mikey, hold on!” 

Mikey blinks up, around— that sounded like— 

“Mikey, is that you?” 

He jumps, the kitchen— he can see it again— it’s still dark, but if he squints, he thinks he can see a figure on the other side, by the table. 

“...Leo?” 

The figure moves, uncurling itself from underneath the chair legs and shakily standing up. Mikey manages a brave shuffle closer as his eyes try to adjust— it is Leo, rubbing at his eyes fiercely and clearing his throat. “Jeeze, Mike. Way to sneak up on a guy.” 

Mikey almost doesn’t move for a second, feeling strangely out of place. “Mike?” Leo says, nervously, and all of the neurons in him rewire with a sharp burst in his chest as he scrambles forwards, throwing himself into his brother's arms. 

“It was dark! And— I couldn’t find you!” 

Leo’s hand comes up to hold the back of Mikey’s head, like he always does. “Hey— shh. Angie, it’s okay, hey? I've got you, always got you.” 

Mikey leans back, and scrubs at his eyes, trying to glare as fiercely as he can at his big brother in spite of the tears. “I was calling for you, and— and you couldn’t hear me!” Leo winces, something sheepish lacing across his face. There’s something else too, Mikey can’t read it so it doesn’t matter he figures. Leo always tells him, he always listens. 

“I heard you, I promise,” He holds Mikey closer for a second. “Sorry it took me a while— I always heard you.” 

He doesn’t know what that means but it appeases something in him anyways, he squeezes his brother as hard as he can. “Don’t go off on your own ever again,” Mikey tells him, muffled into his chest. “You gotta take me with you, too.” 

Leo doesn’t say anything for a long moment, humming quietly as he rubs Mikey’s shell. “I’m here now, hey? Not going anywhere, you’re not getting rid of me.” 

That’s good, he thinks. That’s where he should be. Here and nowhere else. Mikey’s not brave enough to be alone without him. 

He feels embarrassment wring through him. “I was scared,” He confesses, apologetic. Leo will probably tease him for it, when it’s light again. He’ll probably tell Raph like its a joke, but then stick more glow stars on the ceiling for him anyways. 

“Me too,” Leo says, quietly. “I was. I was really scared.”

Oh, Mikey blinks, rewires his thoughts. “Don’t have to be scared,” He tells Leo, because it’s what Dad says to him, too. “I can be brave and we can take turns.”

Leo laughs, gentle and quiet, his hug gets so tight Mikey debates telling him to let go, but— he’s shaking, a little, like he’s breathing all funny. He doesn’t want to tell Leo to stop if it helps. 

“Okay, little brother.” 

Mikey leans back, and takes Leo’s hand in his. He looks around the kitchen— it seems smaller, now.

“We can go now,” He says, and he’s not sure why. Leo’s mouth is flat and terse like it is when he’s really sad, but he manages a small smile anyways. 

It’s not as many steps to cross the room, and the splotch on the ceiling is just a shadow, really. He pulls Leo along behind him, squaring himself as bravely as he can. It’s easy, with Leo’s hand in his. It’s just a silly room, they make cereal bowls in the morning and sometimes Dad lets them put salt in the pot for spaghetti, and Leo makes silly faces when they clean dishes to make it fun. It’s a room in his house, and he’s safe here even when the pipes are loud and it’s dark. It's a room and Leo's here, and they're safe together.

He thinks about Donnie, waiting for soup. About Raph and his big worried bros, and the way he lets Mikey climb up on his shoulders to see up higher. He thinks about a hallway, and the twelve and a half steps to the stairs and the ten steps up to their floor, and the ten more steps to their bedroom. There’s something warm in his fingertips, in his chest, like he’s just had soup, or been bundled up in his favorite spot in their hammock between his brothers, and Dad is in the hallway turning off the light. 

The yellow through their ratty blue blanket always turns red and orange at the side, purple at the bottom. 

He can see the door to the hallway now— it’s not far to where his brothers are, and Dad said he’d be home soon. Mikey thinks he might be tired, though. He thinks he’s been tired for a long time. 

“I want to go home,” He tells Leo, from some place outside himself. His hands tingle funny, he thinks he’d like to rest, but the door is right there and he made it, and it’s glowing bright as anything— 

Leo’s hand is firm and warm and squeezes back, and he can take another step. 

____

Mikey wakes up warm. 

He stretches, reaches as high up as he can to touch the wall behind his headboard, same as he always does. He feels the grooves of the stone under his fingers, and the light vibration of the pipes behind it. He feels the stiffness in his spine loosen, uncurl, like he’s been tucked into his shell for too long.

It’s quiet, he realizes; his home is a ripcord of motion normally. Raph always gets up early and makes tea, and sits with Dad for a little while before Mikey ambles down to get breakfast going. He can usually hear music already, or Don’s electronics whirring if he’d pulled another all nighter, or the thrum of a TV. There’s none of that now. If he focuses, he can hear soft puffs of breath somewhere beside him. 

The realization doesn’t hit him for a long moment. He opens his eyes and sees his room, the outlines of plastic stuck on stars on the ceiling, the pile of comics tucked carefully onto his bookshelf, and — Leo. Sleeping with his head on his hand, leaning half onto Mikey’s bed from the floor. 

He blinks and— 

He’s standing on an asteroid, the one he lost Leo on. Some unthinkable distance away from home, caught high up in the air and all alone. The Krang is missing, because Mikey did it right this time, finally. He found the branch within all the branches that would get Leo home— the one where Mikey never existed to begin with. The only branch where Leo grew up being the baby of the family where his overprotective brothers never allowed him to even venture into self-sacrificial acts of heroism. The only one where Leo figures out a different plan.

They’re happy here, he knows. They will be happy here, even if Leo doesn’t believe him. 

His brother is all highlighter outrage and heartbreak, a full study in devastation in technicolor, and all Mikey can think of is that he loves him. That he’s glad he’s safe. That if this is the only gift he can ever give any of them again, a way to skip grieving at all, then he’s glad. He’s only sorry to be the one leaving first. 

“What are you talking about?” Leo’s voice shakes, his eyes are wild. He’s not supposed to even know what’s happening, not supposed to be able to talk to Mikey like this, but his brothers have always had a way of doing the impossible. “You’re not going anywhere, stop it.” 

“Leo, it’s too late. I’m– I’m not going anywhere, not really. You’ll see.” 

Leo’s expression twists further, it hurts to look at, it does, but Mikey makes himself memorize all of it just in case. 

“You think I’ll let that happen?”

“You don’t have a choice—”

“I don’t care, Michael. I don’t— what. My baby brother is badass enough to change space and time just because he decided to, and you think I’m going to let that one up me? If you can change the timeline, then so can I.”

Mikey smiles, despite himself. He wonders how it’s possible to be so afraid and full of love all at once, he doesn’t know how there’s room. "Leo, you have to let me go. It's okay."

His big brother is so, so sad. It aches and hollows him out to see it, he's never seen Leo like this before. Like the sun just burnt itself out right in the sky. “If I let you go, I'll lose you." He says, simply, horrifically. 

"Maybe that's how it's s'pposed to go," Mikey shrugs, hiccuping on a sob.

Leo's expression shifts, firm lines pouring in between. He leans close and pokes him in the chest, eyes flashing fierce. "It's not. It can't be, I won't let it. You’re not going anywhere, baby brother. I’m not doing any of this without you.” 

The world unravels apart in front of him and Leo’s eyes never leave his. 

“You awake?” 

Mikey jumps, hands curled tight into his comforter so hard it hurts. Leo’s staring at him now, expression entirely unreadable. 

“Leo, I—” 

He holds up a hand, swiping at Mikey’s chin gently. “Great to see you up. Worried we weren’t going to be able to wake you for a bit there. How are your hands?” 

His hands? Mikey blinks down at himself. His hands are a network of glowing lines, worse than before. Last time they’d opened up like fissures, pure gold creeping through before settling into paler scars against his scales. Now, it looks like his hands are barely holding back straight sunlight, more cracked lines than not. It doesn’t… hurt, though. 

“Okay,” He says, his voice is croaky and small. Leo smiles at him, rubs the top of his head in a smooth motion before standing. 

“I’ll let Don know you’re awake, he wanted to check in on all of that.” 

Leo hasn’t actually looked him in the eyes, Mikey realizes with a pang— instinctively, desperately, he grabs Leo’s hand before he can walk away. Some part of him terrified abruptly that Leo’s so furious with him it’ll be like this forever, never quite looking at him but too scared to leave. Like magnets constantly repelling each other. Leo's his best friend, just like Donnie and Raph, but he's always wanted to be as brave as Leo was his whole life. He can't be mad at him for doing what Leo would have done, did do a thousand times over, he can't.

“Don’t— um. Don’t go?” 

Leo’s shoulders hitch high, he’s staring at the doorway flatly. Tense. Mikey has an insane urge to apologize, desperately, but he’s not even really sorry. If Leo’s here then he did it right, it was worth it. If Leo’s here then Mikey made the correct choice, no matter what Leo thinks.

They stay like that for a long second, Mikey holding Leo’s wrist with both hands, Leo facing away. He can feel Leo’s pulse under his thumb, it’s settling some terrified white noise in his head, in spite of himself. He can breathe knowing Leo's here.

Actually, he’s breathing a lot— big heaving breaths that tear through him all at once. He can feel Leo’s heartbeat and he’s alive, and Mikey’s here, and he can see him and— he was so tired of being alone, of trying to be brave. Maybe he always believed Leo would find him, maybe that wasn’t fair of him at all. He just doesn’t want Leo to hate him for it. 

“I— I…” He tries, the sentences evaporating into nothing before him. 

Leo turns instantly, switching their hands so he’s holding onto Mikey’s wrist just as tightly. His eyes are wet, Mikey realizes. 

“Angelo—” 

“Leo—” Mikey stops, bites his lip. Leo doesn’t look angry, not really, but he’s not sure. “I’m. I’m just happy to see you.”

Something crashes across the flat dark of his eyes, splintering it apart like a lightning storm, all motion and sparked urgency. 

“I missed you so much,” Leo says, and pulls him into a hug. 

Mikey gasps, tears falling from wide eyes. “I thought… I thought you’d be mad.” 

“I am,” Leo sniffs, choking on a breath as he bundles Mikey closer. “I’m so fucking mad at you, but I love you and you were missing. Don’t ever do that to me again.” 

“You jumped first,” Mikey manages, some backwards anger from a reality that no longer matters leeching forwards. 

Leo shakes his head, hooks his chin on top of Mikey’s forehead. “Big brothers are supposed to do stuff like that. I knew you’d save my shell.” 

“No you didn’t,” Mikey argues, balling his fists up to push at Leo’s chest. “You didn’t, because I didn’t even know. You were going to leave me behind.” 

There’s a fraction of a space between them as Leo lifts his head, and it’s horrible. His eyes are swollen red, tears still streaming from them; he looks just as heartbroken as before, but Mikey’s fine. Leo shouldn't look like he's still losing Mikey when they're here together, that's silly, that hurts in a way Mikey doesn't know how to make better. He puts both hands on Leo's cheeks anyways, to keep him in one piece all together.

“Never,” Leo swears wetly. “I’ll always come back for you, you hear me? Nowhere you can go I can’t annoy you back where you belong.”

“Same for you,” Mikey insists, it sounds like begging. “I’m a badass mystic warrior now. I’ll just drag you back home.” 

Leo lets out a shaking breath, and Mikey sniffles too.

"I was trying to tell you that I loved you," Mikey offers, wobbling all the way down to the core of himself. "Did you hear me?"

His big brother's face twists, crashes to pieces and his shoulders shake, leaning all his weight forwards into Mikey's hands and closing his eyes. "Course I did," He says, as easy as anything. "Of course I did."

____

Leo has another dream. 

It’s softer— it’s not on the asteroid, there’s no Krang or portal or giant ship. He’s younger, skipping through the sewers after his Dad and his brothers. Dad has Raph’s hand in his, and Raph’s holding onto Donnie’s sleeve to make sure he doesn’t stray too far either. He gets distracted sometimes, by the details that pile up in his head. Raphie keeps an eye on Donnie though. 

Leo’s supposed to be doing something, he thinks. 

The tunnels are tall and wide, and there’s hints of lights through the grates high up above that make spackled golden dots on the stone. He peers closely at a puddle, the way the light seems to absorb it all in. When he looks up, his family is trailing farther away. Faint outlines in the murky distance— he needs to catch up, he thinks. Or when the rain comes we’ll get separated. 

Dad’s watching out for Raph, who’s watching out for Donnie, though, so they’ll be okay. It’s Leo’s job to make sure they don’t get separated. 

The tunnels are still light, but they’re long and the splotches of light look like sun through the tree leaves, and his family turns a corner. Leo’s alone. 

He wakes up, standing in a tunnel. 

It’s dark. Of course it’s dark— for a disorienting moment, Leo’s not sure he’s actually awake. The jumpcut between his last memories of ambling off to bed to now don’t seem to fit in any way he can make sense of, but the stone under his feet is cold and solid anyways. He knows this tunnel, probably. He knows all of the offshoot tunnels by their home like the back of his hand— he’s not lost. He isn’t. 

He is alone, though. 

The dream is still floating through his mind, a cloud that hasn’t fully let up and drifted off as it weighs thick and heady. A thundercloud, dropping low with all its gray and heavy lightning. They didn’t wander off without him, he knows— except. It’s just that they could have, couldn’t they? Any one of them could be cut clean through again. 

He knows the memory his mind had latched onto. His heart beats frantic and loud for a moment as he realizes. He’d been there with Mikey, it was his job to watch his baby brother; he’d been there with Mikey, but he’d forgotten again. How could he have forgotten, again? What if he hadn’t fixed it, not really, and any one of them could fade out of the forefront without him noticing? 

The tunnel is dark, and he’s alone— he knows this tunnel, his home is a few steps around the corner, and he must have slept walked all the way out but he can go back. He knows his brothers: Donnie, Raph, Mikey. He hasn’t forgotten them, he hasn’t. 

There were fifteen seconds that he was alone in the dark when the power went out. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Raph’s voice bounces off the stone around them— Leo whirls around before his mind catches fully up, and Raph sweeps him up further into a bear hug with it. “Pretty sure you’re still grounded.” 

Leo blinks frantically, feeling the slight tremble of Raph’s arms around him. Donnie peeks his head over Raph’s shoulder. “So, turns out I didn’t remove the trackers on all of you that I said I did, go figure.” 

“Which I’ll allow this one time, on account of bozo activity.” Raph says. “But we will be revisiting at a later time, with Dad.” 

“What—” Leo turns his head. Donnie’s pretending to type on his wrist guard, but his eyes keep flickering up at Leo and away. Raph’s smile is tense at the edges. They’re here, they’re real, he hasn’t forgotten them, but then— 

Raph continues, he’s herding Leo forward and beginning the walk back home as he talks. “Maybe we give up the whole sleeping in separate rooms thing tonight and do a sleepover instead. We can put your favorite on.”

“I won’t even argue on which film is the best, this one time only,” Donnie says, magnanimously.  

Oh, Leo manages a shaky smile back. The ball of nervousness bubbles in his chest, he tries to swallow it down. “Better not be Punch Chowder then, because—”

“That’s only for criminals,” Mikey chirps in, patting Leo on the arm as they’re bustled forward. The knot in Leo’s chest relaxes. Everyone’s here, he didn’t forget them. The gratitude is nearly overwhelming, his knees nearly give out before Mikey swoops in under his arm, wrapping his own firmly around Leo’s shell. 

“Movie night sounds good,” He manages. His family, all where he can see them, can be sure he won’t wake up without any one of them. It sounds perfect. 

The lights are on, the tunnel is bright. He’s watching over Mikey and he’s holding onto all of them, and his hand is in Don’s. 

Yeah, he thinks. Everything where it’s supposed to be. 

[spaghetti-man99]

Okay, so after seeing Asteroid City a bunch of times, I thought I should probably write down my thoughts, so here they are

(warning this is kind of long)

Thoughts On Asteroid City:

“4th wall break”, or When The Characters Become the actors:

Woodrow constantly looks at the “audience” (the camera) during the film, this is because the understudy is playing Woodrow and is not used to the audience

“I still don’t say I forgive you”: at first I thought this was Midge saying this to Augie, but upon watching it again, it actually seems to be the actor Mercedes saying it to the director Schubert, who had written her an apology letter.

“Hey, do you feel any different?”: this is a stretch, but the day after the alien takes the asteroid, Midge asks Augie if he feels any different. He answers that he doesn’t, and asks if that’s odd, and Midge says that she also doesn’t feel any different. Now, taking into account Augie’s actor Jones’ (probably) very fresh grief and shock over the death of his lover Conrad (the playwright), coupled with the fact that he doesn’t answer with his line immediately (probably because he’s dissociating), this makes me think that Midge’s actor, Mercedes, is actually asking if he feels any different now that Conrad is gone, and Jones is in too much shock to actively feel anything

The Quickie Gridle: In the scene where Augie burns his hand on the Quickie Gridle (something that Jones had asked Conrad about at the beginning of the film, “Why does Augie burn his hand on the Quickie Gridle?”), it looks as if Mercedes is in actual shock when his hand hits the griddle. She asks him why he did it, and his answer is, “it’s unclear” because Conrad never told him why.

(there is probably a great deal more that I don’t remember, I might add more

Augie/Jones:

I was put onto this by @mummer, and after going to see the movie again with the idea that the movie is partially about Jones trying to process his grief, a lot of scenes were put into a different light and honestly I enjoyed it even more.

Obviously, we have the scene where he goes on his backstage rant (which I did not realize he did while they were doing an active performance and not just a rehearsal). It seems to be him searching for the meaning in Conrad’s passing (and also the meaning of life in general) in his play, but being ultimately told by Schubert that it doesn’t matter if he doesn’t understand the meaning, because he just has to keep going

“I feel like my heart is breaking, my own personal heart.” “Good.”: this comes across to me as Jones finally being able to get past his shock and actually feel something about Conrad’s passing through the lens of playing Augie and Schubert telling him that the pain is good and healthy

“Am I doing him right?”... “I think you’re doing him right.”: again, this could be a stretch, and it makes sense to interpret it literally, however… Jones is, again, actively grieving for a partner that could not be grieved in public. This could be his way of subtly asking if he’s doing it right, if he’s doing the play the way Conrad would have wanted, if he would have been happy with him and his performance, and Schubert’s answer of “I think you’re doing him right” could very well be an attempt to comfort him and saying that he is doing right by Conrad, that he would be proud of him.

“Use your grief.” Again, this could just be how the play was written, but if that isn’t some great advice for Jones I don’t know what is.

“I think you might have to try to replace me.”: The scene with the actress that played Augie’s wife and her quoting the dialogue to Jones, essentially speaking what has been going through his head since Conrad died.

Also I think it was extremely intentional that we get the news that Conrad died directly after the above scene.

Again, there are probably more that I forgot or have already been said somewhere else.

Misc.

(these are more just little things)

The way the cowboy Montana’s actor is not present in the beginning line up and is instead represented through a painting over the teacher June’s actor’s head

The little roadrunner puppet!! Which you can see being played with when Jones goes backstage

The little scene where the narrator just appears and then is like, “Am I… not in this one?” And then leaves and the actors go back a line of dialogue

The way we only see some of June and Montana’s relationship and only know they got together because the mechanic’s actor came out and told Jones

The picture of Augie’s wife being exactly how he described her in the little monologue

Augie’s laugh after he told the girls they weren’t orphans

“That business with the pipe and the camera and the eyebrow.” – Schubert to Jones

The scene with Schubert and his wife, I loved the way that even though Schubert is obviously torn apart by this, he still understands that his wife doesn’t love him the same anymore and lets her go

The memory game that the brainiacs play

Woodrow and his Grandfather have the exact same hairstyle

“I play him as a metaphor.” “For what?” “Well I don’t know, we never pinned it down.” – Jones and the actor for the alien.

The colors!!!

Basically all the times the brainiacs interacted

Where does Ricky's father sleep??? Where does Ricky sleep?? Cause they were not sleeping in the tent.

Montana's perfect, stereotypical cowboy speak

And so much more I might have to update this if I remember

[nostalgiclittlespace]

your post on regression grief hit me hard. i recently had a moment where for a couple hours i so vividly went back to when i was a kid, when it was the spring leading into summer during middle school and we all gathered in the open grassy field and played games. music played. the smell of the season was full of joy. ive been having more and more moments like this. the older i get and the more trauma i endure, the more i find myself having moments where i regress and cling to my tiger plushie and find myself talking a certain way. i go back to reliving these memories and its so comforting and simple.

Regressing is entirely new to me. i was told its something bad and “problematic”, so i was really scared when i started to put two and two together. do you have any advice for someone newly discovering this part of themself? (i know this is a heavy question so its okay if you dont!!)

Hi, friend ❤️❤️❤️ First of all, I have the impulse to say that I’m sorry for all the stress you’re under. While regression can be a very joyful thing, the side of it you usually see on the internet, it can also be that crushing, confusing grief. I hope some of what I’ll say can help.

First, I completely understand where you’re coming from. For me personally, regression is revisiting childhood because adulthood is hard and being a kid is just so much easier. Sometimes it feels like that’s the only safe place. Those memories are precious, and they are happy. (Some of my favorites are when I remember playing with my siblings, running around my backyard. Those were my favorite days)

My first piece of advice is that it’s okay to cling onto those memories and regress with them. It’s okay to have that bittersweet sting as you remember how simple life used to be. No matter who you are and what your situation is growing up is it’s own kind of trauma—suddenly being faced with responsibility and work, when it seemed only yesterday we didn’t have to worry about a thing. So, it’d natural to miss those easy times, and to wish for the, back. If that make you regress, then that’s okay.

I am actually fairly new to regression as well. I started trying age dreaming a year or so ago to try and cope with stress (with moderate success), but it wasn’t until the past few months that I’ve actually started to do regress routinely and consider myself a member of the community. I will admit that before I framed my regression negatively. I felt almost ashamed of myself for not handling my stress in a “typical fashion”. Which brings me to my next piece of advice. There is nothing wrong with regression. If you’ve been on this side of the Internet for long enough, I’m sure you’ve heard it before, but I’m saying it again. Age regression is completely okay, it is a valid coping mechanism.It takes time to let go of those negative outlooks and preconceptions (believe me, I know) But you have Avery supportive, kind, and fun community agere, and we’d all be happy to help you however we can.

For me, the best way to get comfortable with regressing was to take baby steps. It doesn’t have to be grand gestures like decorating your bedroom as a nursery (tho if that’ll make you more comfortable, then go for it!) personally, I started small. Watching Disney movies. Sleeping with a stuffed animal every night. Coloring with crayons and coloring books instead of my fancy colored pencils. Eventually, it became natural.

However I would also like to point out that not all regression is sunshine and rainbows (unfortunately.). It’s also that space where we recognize our trauma through a child’s perspective, and that’s hard. It’s okay and normal for regression to be difficult or painful.

Nonetheless, it’s important to take care of those feelings. remember that you deserve this safe place.

I think the most important thing I can say is to indulge in it. Your mind will thank you. Personally, I’ve honestly been handling life so much better, recalling lost childhood memories I would have forgotten about, and just generally feeling happier since I’ve allowed myself to regress when I need to.

I hope some of this was helpful. Sorry if it was a bit scatterbrained. If I think of anything else, I’ll edit this later. And If you need anything else, whether to ask some more questions or just need a listening ear, I’m always available! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Lots of love to you, friend, sending lots of warm, happy vibes your way

-Marty 💙

[hyperraduo22]

my dps roman empires

cuz i keep seeing those videos with my love mine all mine on my feed with consistently ugly-sob-inducing stories and roman empires so now i have this long list i wanna share

+ may include some little facts here and there for anyone new in the fandom

• anderperry’s entire relationship and dynamic

literally no explanation needed on why it’s the top of the list and the first thing i wrote down

the whole hourglass and icarus x the sun dynamics makes me sob every time without fail

someone rewrite the script so they have a happy ending please

also me: wym they already do?? they got married and went to new york??????

• charlie and neil :(((

• thinking about charlie’s experience and dealing with grief post-expulsion

• todd’s entire character

bro makes my quiet x anxious kid heart go brrr

like just thinking about the little implications of his behavior and what’s said about his brother in the script makes me wanna cry and scream and throw a tantrum

he really represents the epitome of all quiet shy kids out there and i really appreciate it

• dead poet’s society but from cameron’s perspective

i understand y’all wanting to punch and yell at him and show no forgiveness but i also think you should give a bit of sympathy for this kid

he doesn’t know any better just like charlie or any of the other poets

damn this movie does a great job of showing reality and the fact that there’s no real enemies

• dead poet’s society but from pitts’s perspective 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

like i’d pay to see this honestly

• pitts’s screen time :((((

my underrated boy :(((((

• pitts and cameron’s dynamic

i KNOW we see these two talking in the background and seeing him make cameron laugh and smile the most compared to everyone else

like??? i wanna see more?????

cameron being outwardly comfortable around someone finally???

• the fact that all the movie's events ensued as they’re all high schoolers

like idk if there’s a canonical age for any of them but whether they’re juniors or seniors the trauma is still the same

• the thoughts of the kids who stood up on their desks at the end of the movie

how are they dealing with keating being away now? how do they view life in general?? did they really appreciate keatings class???? would they join the dps if they had the chance???????

• hopkins’s portrayal

its kind of a 50/50 since bro barely has screen time, yet i see his character oftentimes being portrayed as the class asshole

i think it’s clear that him and his friends commit tomfoolery and are overall jerks but to think that he’s the more sensible, level-headed guy makes a lot of sense to me—kinda similar to charlie in a way

like he knows limits and when to not push them even if he doesn’t come off that way. all bro does is chill in class and stare off into the windows daydreaming (as shown in the whole ripping out the poetry intro scene). bro doesn’t wanna be there. he’s just chilling and honestly same💀

• spencer’s actual treatment in the movie

ik we love this man, and our headcanons (or at least what i’ve seen and my own for the most part) say that people treat him well but low key everyone be on his shit

like it brings up the question of whether or not this is considered bullying cause any scene i see he’s either blatantly shoved around or even the guys around him purposely steal his medicine and pass it around so he can’t have it (including stick participating in this)-

like i think there’s some limits to being a jerk and idk how spencer really feels throughout the movie cuz he’s a background character :////

• HANDSOME ASS BACKGROUND CHARACTERS AND THEIR SCREEN TIMES = UNFAIR! CRIMINAL !!!!!

• the fact that ginny’s character just gets completely cutout. like she has a few lines to begin with and then the movie comes out and she ends up being a non-speaking extra in the play like i’m- what happened???

• tina and gloria / girl characters portrayed in dps in general

let me explain cuz i love them but also feel bad for their characters

like low key they’re just used as experiments for the cave (implied by charlie in a deleted scene that wasn’t recovered although i think this part is in the original script as well if i remember correctly)

although he brings them back a second time in a deleted scene where they’re all dancing around outside of the cave on the night of the play only for him to make out with one of them in another deleted scene that wasn’t recovered… (( this was revealed in an old interview on someone working behind the scenes btw ))

so like i kinda feel bad for them. like y’all just there for show but i wish you had more lines and other purposes besides possibly not passing a bechdel test ://////

^ lowkey this same concept is kinda seen with chris’s character too. like all she’s there for is a romantic interest for knox. like cmon now she’s one of the main female characters and THIS is what she gets. i wanna know more about my girl chris!!!!

and i kind of understand why it’s set up this way since y’know it’s an all male boarding school in the 1950s—how do you fit female characters in and how are they viewed? it’s not the greatest setup of all time

• ANDERPERRY DELETED SCENE ON THE DOCK NOT MAKING IT INTO THE FILM LIKE OUT OF ALL DELETED SCENES THAT ONE IS THE REALLY IMPORTANT ONE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

• the deleted scene of the poets carrying neil’s coffin 🚶‍♂️

like goodbye. doors closed. tears shed.

kinda glad it’s not in the movie cuz i would’ve sobbed uncontrollably even more than neil’s death

• todd’s poem

another deleted scene that really rearranges my internal organs

the fact that him reading this poem was supposed to be in tandem/include shots with neil’s death-

why do the writers want us to cry rivers?????

BUT ALSO ITS FUNNY ASF IF YALL WATCH THIS DELETED SCENE WHEN TODD IS TELLING THEM WHAT TO REPEAT BETWEEN VERSES, ONE OF THE POETS GOES “what??🤨”

I’M SORRY TODD IK YOURE TRYING BUT THAT LITTLE AIRHEADED ASS “what?” IS SO FUNNY TO ME

• the fact that in the very first version of the script, keating was supposed to have cancer

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS UNTIL LAST MINUTE

LIKE Y’ALL ADMITTED THAT YOU WANTED TO HAVE A SCENE OF KEATING DYING IN A HOSPITAL AND WERE PONDERING ON WHETHER HIS CHARACTER SHOULD HAVE A FATAL ILLNESS FOR THREE DAYS ?!?!?

thank god y’all made the right decision and rewrote the script to take that out

[callmehere-iwillappear]

rec list (last updated: 10/22/23)

aka 'if you liked [cmh] you might also like [insert other really good fic here]' bc there are So Many amazing fics out there good lird

few things. first off if you see a disaster twins bias no you don't. second i tried to find all the authors' tumblrs but there were some i couldn't - if you know any of the ones i missed let me know!

aaand third, there are just. SO many good fics i ended up splitting things up. this is the rec post for multi chapter fics, here's the one shot rec post

Multichapter Fics

Complete

A Twin Thing (@minumi-chan)

Four times Donatello rejects Leo's notion of them being twins, and the once (and future) time he embraces it.

GOD THE TWINS EVER.... funny in parts but also hurts in the best possible way and thankfully has a happy ending to soothe the pain. i literally love them so much

Because We Could Not Stop For Death (@turtleinsoup)

After Leo dies, Donnie builds an android of his twin. After Leo dies, he comes back. He does. And Donnie will not ever let him go again.

very very very very VERY heavy please mind the warnings but god. god. another take on the 'leo dies in the prison dimension' concept that btw WILL make you cry. like a lot. absolutely incredible study of grief. i am never going to be the same person after reading this

coming right on back for you (@taizi)

Rise!Mikey’s portal in the prison dimension takes Leo a little bit farther than he meant for it to. 12!Mikey finds a familiar-looking stranger.

soooo full disclosure i haven't actually watched 2012 tmnt. that said even without that, this fic rules. incredibly soft and heartwarming. i love them

Corrupted Upgrade (@dandylovesturtles)

His brothers think they don't need him anymore? Well, fine. He doesn't need them either. The old Donatello is gone. He'll build a new one. One that will make them regret they ever threw him aside. Building things is what he's good at, after all.

i can't say too much without spoiling the twist, but oh MAN guys it's real good. come get your donnie hurt/comfort juice rn. also for a hurt/comfort fic it has NO RIGHT being so funny so often

Dimensions Apart & Home Again

"Who said I'm hiding?" Leo scoffs. Normally he wouldn't take such a sharp tone, but he's tired and not in the mood for what he feels to be an interrogation in his own bedroom. "You all know where I am. I live here, remember?" “Yeah, very funny. And you know where we live. But nobody's seen you for two weeks.”

ooohhh post movie hurt/comfort my beloved... leo is isolating and donnie kicks his ass. metaphorically. mostly. meanwhile raph and mikey are also having a certified Bad Time but it's okay they all get comfort by the end

Havoc, Thy Name is Donnie

Donnie accidentally turns himself into a child while experimenting with mystic power. It's cute until Donnie gets his hands on his older self's tech and then it's really uncute and Leo and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. are having a heart attack.

child donnie is an absolute MENACE and it's INCREDIBLE. terrorizes leo. terrorizes shelldon. terrorizes some random criminals. terrorizes april. terrorizes draxum. all in the course of a single day. 12/10

how to get very good at juggling (@radishhqueen)

The Krang invasion put a couple of things in perspective for April. One of them was how much she wanted her parents to meet the Hamatos. The only difficult part is…getting her parents to meet the Hamatos.

the turtles meet april's parents! it goes... about as well as can be expected. REALLY good april centric post movie fic

little kid with a big death wish (@remedyturtles)

Leo's mind rebelled against the sensation. The heaviness burst into awareness, body, limbs, lungs, blinking. The middle distance he'd apparently been staring in focused. Leo was awake. Leo was aware. Leo was alive. Being alive wasn't something he thought he'd be.

genuinely don't think i could ever recommend this fic enough. mind the warnings as it does get very heavy but. god. idk how to express how much this fic means to me in just a few sentences but like. you'll understand if you read it (also for. an actual summary: post movie recovery fic with a side of extra leo)

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say)

The boys learn the hard way that truths can hurt. Well, some of them.

truth spellllll you love to see it! lotta post movie angst + some good comfort at the end + bonus the boys actually being emotionally vulnerable and talking about their issues (even if it's not 100% by choice)

Trial and Error (@apatheticrobots)

Leo ends up in the past. This changes some things.

YES the healing (well. eventually).... big fan of the leos' dynamic in this one. also that One Scene (the one with the animatic. if you know you know) gives me goosebumps EVERY time good god

Unfinished business

When one dies leaving something undone, there's a belief, that they do not go gentle into that good night. They linger on until they've finished what they couldn't while alive. And for four turtles, that business is using the Poltergeist movie as inspiration.

bad future ending but make it HILARIOUS. tldr the future turtles haunt the SHIT out of the krang. that's all i'm giving you because that's all you should need. they fucking rick roll them. please

Use Only For Intended Purpose (me!)

That's probably not how mind melds are supposed to work.

sorry for reccing my own fic do you still love me /j BUT FR if you like post movie disaster twins hurt/comfort with a side of dream sharing. i got u

Where in the World is Neon Leon?

Leo practices portalling on his own. This is not a good idea for many, many reasons.

set over the course of the show + the movie! aka leo trying so so hard to be seen as reliable and getting incredibly fucked up over it. also making new friends

write this down on my headstone (it wasn't what i hoped for) (@bottledovercast)

it’s as he drifts listlessly through the cold-as-shit hellscape that leo’s willing to admit, maybe this wasn’t what raph meant. aka: i do not believe for one second that there were No Problems in between getting leo out of the prison dimension and the final scene of the movie.

i genuinely do not know how to do this one justice with words. it's written impeccably and the hurt/comfort is just. chefs kiss. please read it (+ has a sequel now that's also absolutely incredible!)

In progress

At My Worst (@teainthesnow)

Future Leo ends up back in time, stuck in the body of his younger self, who is still conscious but trapped within his mind.

genuinely LOVE this concept like there's a lot of (really good) future leo goes back in time fics but i'm pretty sure this is the only one i've read with them sharing a body? god the dynamic is. SO good. one of my fave future leo + present leo dynamics ever tbh. just. chefs kiss

I May Be Invisible, But I Still Look Good (@dandylovesturtles)

Leo is cursed by a mystic whatever thingy. But don't worry guys, he's totally got this! Getting back into his body? Easy peasy. (He hopes it will be easy peasy.)

will smith poses fellow ghost(ish) leo fic my beloved! ngl this one kinda has a special place in my heart so i May be biased BUT even aside from that it's just. so good. the premise is so interesting and it's written super well and in character and also i would like to give leo a hug PLEASE GOOD GOD

I'm Sorry, Teenage Mutant What Now? (@tangledinink)

When Hamato Yoshi is presented with the chance to return to the surface with his sons and give them a 'normal' life as humans, he takes it. He didn't think that they would forget about that whole turtle thing. But it seems kind of too late to tell them now. Surely they won't find out any other way, right?

human au! ... kind of. actually brooches au but they THINK they're human which is fine until, y'know, it's not. currently in the 'not' part of the fic and it's just going really great for everyone! you love to see it

In Which Donnie and Leo Make Themselves Everyone Else's Problem in an NYC That Isn't Even Their Own

It was a huge mistake on the Kraang's part to kidnap the wrong half of the wrong set of brothers and leave behind two very worried twins. And not just any twins. The disaster twins.

another crossover with 12tmnt which. again i have not seen, but like. this fic is just. REALLY good. it's set pre movie so there's not that trauma, it's literally just the twins fucking the 12 kraang up and living up to their nickname while the 12 turtles (and rise mikey and raph) look on in horror

i think i would prefer the prison dimension (@purplecatghostposts)

Leo gets sent to the Kraang Apocalypse Future that he really didn’t want to think about. Future Leo, Mikey, and Donnie are absolutely baffled by him. Nobody is happy.

you've heard of future leo in the present, now get ready for: present leo in the future! he gets dragged into the apocalypse instead of getting pulled out of the prison dimension back to his brothers and boy he is, understandably, Not Thrilled!

Last Grain of Sand in the Hourglass (@last-hourglass)

The one where the Hamato family is freaking the fuck out, Leo is lost in the Prison Dimension, and a very-time-displaced Leonardo refuses to leave his younger self behind. (Oh, and there may be some mystic hauntings afoot. You know, the usual result of messing with the space-time continuum.)

future leo gets saved while present leo stays in the prison dimension! there's A Lot going on in this one and half of it is BIG spoilers but just. oh my god. this shit is SO well written i am eating it

Mikey's Jam-Packed, Guaranteed to Get Donnie's Memory Back, Friendship Tour!

Donnie wakes up without his memory one day and everyone panics. They're just going to have to jog his memory the old-fashioned way! Through the power of friendship! [And a small (I was wrong. A very large) degree of violence and shenanigans]

donnie gets amnesia and SO SO MANY shenanigans ensue. also a tiny bit of angst but it's fine

Minor Interference (@bambiraptorx)

The turtles accept Draxum's offer to train them. Little does he know that they're only going to use it mess with him.

haha draxum accidental dad moments... well okay not entirely just yet but he's getting there! the turtles are PEAK teenager literally just causing problems on purpose and it's incredible

Mutant Ninja Midlife Crisis (@mutantninjamidlifecrisis)

In the midst of attempting to make peace with his death at the hands of the Krang, Master Leonardo is suddenly yeeted over two decades into the past, courtesy of his little brother.

YEAAHHH another future leo fic! mans gets dropped into the past and IMMEDIATELY kidnapped and brainwashed so things are going great (it's fine he gets better. you know how it is)

odd man out (@threestripeslider)

The one where Future!Leo somehow managed to luck out on a one in a million mere millisecond chance of a freak glitch in the space-time continuum that sends him back into the present, where the Invasion has been successfully driven back. And it looks like it was a one-way ticket travel.

DAD FUTURE LEO MY BELOVED.... he really took one look at these kids and said is anyone else gonna give them a third (3) dad and did not wait for an answer. also big fan of casey's high school adventures LMAO

Power Up

Leo also gets healing hands like his 2k12 counterpart. Sadly, they end up backfiring on him. Who needs to know though?

leo taking 'it's not about me' to the extreme. good god please get this kid some therapy and self worth. the AGONIES

The Lemonade Leak (@turtleinsoup)

The one in which Leo can’t sleep without his swords, because there is a monster in his room, pretending to be Donnie.

oh man. oh MAN. legit one of my fave fics out there. i'm not usually a big thriller person but this one GETS ME + the way the author writes the different perspectives is just. chefs kiss. genuinely has me on the edge of my seat every single update

The Neon Void

Five years. It's been five years. Hamato Leonardo was back. But he was no longer who he once was.

krangified leo! ... sort of. absolutely delicious angst and also i want to rattle leo's brothers. TALK TO EACH OTHER

Three-Sided Coin (@leglessstreetlights)

Highly self-indulgent fic where I put Leo, Future!Leo, and TurtleTot!Leo in the same room until they hug

what the description says! room is a bit of a stretch and present leo is fresh out of the prison dimension So There's That. some really sweet moments in this one though. tiny leo my beloved

this year we lost our dear brother leonardo

The aftermath of the Krang, and of pulling Leo out of the portal. 90% comfort and silly banter.

this is a series not a single wip but i'm saying it counts because i love it a lot. hope this helps <3 yeah what it says on the tin. immediately post movie family hours you love to see it

Times Five

Leo gets struck by a mystic beam that splits him into five parts of himself; literally.

god the TWIST. still losing my mind over it. the whole thing honestly. lotta dealing with leo's complicated emotions about the invasion and himself, really really good tbh

Write Me Well, My Love, Write Me Weird

When stories start popping up on various media outlets of the Turtleman, New York Cities own personal cryptid, most of the world shrugged. To the citizens of New York? fear, excitement, adoration for this odd and lovable creature. Everyone is quick to share stories and memories of their encounters, much to lament of Turtleman's older brother.

leo and donnie get spotted by humans (more than once) and said humans post about it on social media, as humans tend to do. raph is Not Thrilled. angst (and eventual comfort) ensues

[dearsholmes]

Autism movie/show deep dive and my very general thoughts on them!

(everyones different these are my own opinions as an autistic woman please watch for yourself and share any additional thoughts you have on them!)

Music (2021)

Enough said.... had to get this one over with 0/10

Adam (2009)

I found most of these movies to be outdated BUT I actually really appreciate Hugh Dancy's recreation of an autistic character (those who know him as Will in Hannibal would probably also agree). Even though originally I wasn't a fan of the ending I came to appreciate it that he wasn't 'saved' by romance and that it proved he was able to be independent and had great character growth while still respecting himself and his passions. I think it offered a decent insight to the different aspects of autistic joy, passion, while still including the difficult aspects with socializing, navigating relationships, grief, and meltdowns but now being overshadowed by them or 'becoming a problem'. However, I do love space so that could've also been responsible for my love for this movie. 8/10

Heartbreak High (2022)

I absolutely love Chloé Hayden who is autistic herself so her character in the show feels real and more relatable. Pretty much what I said about 'Adam' but to an extreme I think the script and character interactions are such a fantastic and understandable demonstration of what being an autistic women is like (granted everyones experience is different). Cannot wait for the next season! This show is such a great modern day representation and not based in stereotypes like others are 10/10

Big Bang Theory (2007)

I will never not defend this show - I know people tend to hate this because Sheldon is heavily stereotypical but I find him incredibly relatable as I do fall into a lot of these stereotypes myself. Once again everyones experiences are different so I don't understand why people write this show off completely. Love it 10/10

Atypical (2017)

Unfortunately I don't have much to say about this show in regards to his autism because the constant inconsistencies during scenes deserve their own post and were too distracting to focus on anything else. Another thing that upset me about this is that the show is meant to take place in Connecticut yet they filmed in one of the most recognizable aquariums in the west coast. This show probably could've been good if it was just made better/had quality control. The only thing I remember liking was the pros and cons list because I also do that. 4/10

Mozart and the Whale (2005)

I'm going to preface this one specifically that I know everyone's autism presents differently but I almost found her... offensive? I think this is because it was made in 2005 and is just outdated but I felt like a lot of the characters especially hers were more caricatures than characters. Sheldon being stereotypical is one thing but this felt kind of insulting? I'm having a hard time putting it into words. There were moments I liked though - it was a weird back and forth. 5/10

What's Eating Gilbert Grape (1993)

Other than the mistreatment/beating/abuse I actually am pretty fond of this movie. Once again, outdated. But almost... endearing in a way (minus the mistreatment once again). I hope anyone who has seen it will understand what I feel. I did find the love interest annoying but that is unrelated to this post yet I felt the need to warn you all, I don't like her. 7.5/10

My Name is Khan (2010)

I watched this movie six years ago in school before my diagnosis and I didn't even remember or realize he was autistic but I do remember having generally positive thoughts on this movie ?/10 (someone let me know if its worth a rewatch.

A Brilliant Young Mind (2014) ((also called X+Y))

There is a lot of downtime in this movie so it can be kind of boring but it is honestly one of my comfort/go to movies. Of course its the whole "autistics are math geniuses" thing but the movie itself I think is sweet. It shows his diagnosis, he loses his father, he has almost a fill in father who coaches his math, his mother is really supportive of him but not in a savior kind of way, he experiences going out of the country for a competition, struggles with socializing/overwhelm, romantic interests, and there is another character who is autistic and his struggles are also shown in a relatable way, nothings (in my opinion) is annoyingly over exaggerated like it sometimes can be in movies. 9/10

The Good Doctor (2017)

I never actually finished the show because the person I was watching it with kept making fun of me by relating myself to him. Since then I also haven't seen much of a positive reaction from other people either but please let me know your thoughts on it! ?/10

The Imitation Game (2014)

Alan Turing himself was autistic and so even though it's not a main focus of this movie I still wanted to include it because I love this movie! 9/10

Sherlock Holmes (timeless)

I have to also through him in here, obviously some versions are more autistic coded than others but I'm going to generally say all of them are great autistic representation <3 10/10

Not Dead Yet (2023)

Like in Heartbreak High, Rick Glassman an autistic actor plays an autistic character and I think its another great modern day representation. It obviously isn't the main focus but they honestly do a pretty good job being educational in regard to social situations/difficulties and explain it in a way that people can learn from. 10/10

Bones (2005)

I honestly can't remember if they ever say it but Temperance is 100% autistic and I think this is a very endearing show. Since its not the main focus I don't have much to say other than sharing my recommendation 9/10

Criminal Minds (2005)

I mean... enough said. I love Reid with my whole heart. He is very much the 'autistic genius' again but you can't not love Reid! 10/10

Community (2009)

Abed. Another one that doesn't really need much to be said about it. Abed is great 10/10

Dr Who (timeless) ((quite literally and figuratively))

Now this could be considered a reach or projection but Dr Who... autistic! simple as that 10/10

House (2004)

I had to just throw this one in at the end because its really just another version of 'Holmes' and 'Watson' now as 'House' and 'Wilson'. Sherlock, previously said as autistic means House is also autistic 10/10

[ziekaramaik]

This week, on "Life in Westview"

What do widows do all day, Sharon wondered to herself.

Her husband passed away recently. Her kids were all grown with kids of their own, and had gone back to their own towns after the funeral. Sharon was retired. There were a lot of empty hours to fill these days.

She sat on her sofa and searched through the channels on TV. Maybe she could find a nice, long movie. (Sharon was never much of a sitcom fan, even before you-know-what.)

Without a knock, her front door opened. And in walked Agatha Agnes, the only person in Westview who still thought they were living in a TV show. For once, she didn't have an exaggerated sitcom smile plastered on her face. Instead she had an exaggerated sitcom look of concern plastered on. "Hi, neighbor."

So this week, it was "Neighbor" instead of "Mrs Hart". Sharon could live with that. Though she never knew whether or not she should call Agnes by her real name.

With a small sigh, Sharon got up from the sofa to greet her. "I don't want to be rude, but I'm really not in the mood today."

Agnes nodded sympathetically. "I know, sweetheart. I won't stay long. I just wanted to drop this off." She lifted up a comically large tray wrapped in foil.

"I figure you won't be in the mood to cook much the next few days. But a girl's still gotta eat. So I made you lots of servings of my World Famous Chicken Casserole Surprise." In a stage whisper she added, "The surprise is that it's not really world famous." She paused for laughter from a studio audience only she could hear.

Sharon took the heavy tray from her. "Oh, well, thank you, dear. That's actually really sweet of you."

Sharon went and set it down on the kitchen counter. Then she took a quick peak under the foil to make sure it was a real casserole instead of a delusional acting prop. No, it was real food all right.

"So how are you holding up?" Agnes asked sadly.

"Oh. I'm hanging in there," Sharon answered.

"Of course you are. I want you know that if you need anything at all, just ask. What else are neighbors for?"

Then Agnes went into "Very Special Episode" mode for a few minutes. Talking about how death and grief were just a part of life that people have to go through. And Sharon would always have the happy memories of her husband. Only time could heal the wounds, but her friends would be there for support, and so on and so on.

It was all very fake and cliché, and a little bit nonsensical. It made Sharon think of a cheap script written by that newfangled AI stuff she heard about online. That's basically what it was: Agnes' words chosen by a spell on autopilot.

But if Sharon was totally honest, it was kinda nice having Agnes trying to comfort her. And it wasn't actually BAD advice. Sharon often felt sorry for the poor confused woman, but in the end Agnes was playing the role of a good neighbor.

Agnes continued with, "'Course, I never felt what you're going through. Just between us, when my Ralph left me, my first thought was, 'Took long enough.' He was a real downer at the end."

Sharon filed that information away. So this week, the cover story was that Ralph left Agnes, which was pretty close to what happened in reality. (Poor Ralph Bohner. Sharon always liked him, even if his puns were crude.) Agnes' delusional mind kept going back and forth on different explanations for why her "husband" wasn't around anymore, or if he ever existed at all.

"You never lost someone you really cared about?" Sharon asked.

And Agnes said… nothing. It seemed like she was about to say something, but she just stared instead.

"Agnes?" Sharon said.

No response.

"Hello?"

Her expression frozen, Agatha Agnes stared into space, a hundred miles away.

"Oh my gosh, I broke you!" Sharon panicked.

A moment later, Agnes snapped out of it. "No, I'm fine," she said with a big grin. "Well, I gotta get going. My garden's not gonna water itself."

She walked to the front door. "Remember, neighbor. If you need anything, you know where to find me." With a kind wave she walked out and closed the door behind her.

And Sharon went to the task of finding space in her fridge for that giant casserole tray.