#fic: food
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elysianightsss · 3 months ago
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Delivery guy Simon pulls up in his piece of crap ford car, grabs his bright orange just eat bag from the car, slamming the door shut as he walks up to your house. All black attire and sporting no mask, never does during deliveries after being told by his boss it unnerves people you can’t wear that man.
You’re already there before he rings the doorbell, opening the door and giving him a bright smile. Eyes full of hunger, you stomach growling as you inhale the smell of McDonalds. After a shitty week at work you just wanted some junk food to binge on and there was no way you were cooking.
Simon clears his throat out of his temporary freeze, “Here y���a go love.” His deep gravelly voice has your focus off the food he’s picking up and holding out to you in an instance.
You actually look at him and fuck he’s gorgeous. He’s got a couple scars and his nose is crooked, like it’s been broken one too many times for it to be fixed. 6ft 7 at least, he’s built like a damn ox, there are scars on his arms too. If you could even call the both of them that, they’re just as huge as the rest of him. Graced with veins and stretch marks from where the muscles have grown bigger.
He’s a whole ass meal, forget the McDonalds. You’d happily eat him for dinner, just as the thought crosses your mind your gaze shoots down to the giant bulge in his trousers. Your mouth waters at the sight and you swear you see it pulse behind the fabric.
Simon happily stands there letting you, fuck you gorgeous little thing in a tank top and short shorts, eye fuck him. A smirk growing on his face as he watches your hungry eyes dart all over his body.
“Hungry love?”
You blush so deep at his words, cheeks and ears burning hot as you mumble out, “Starved.”
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lucabyte · 2 months ago
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monologue
#they said i couldnt have a worse speech bubbles to image ratio and i said 'bet?'#isat spoilers#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#two hats spoilers#isat#lucabyteart#sifloop#not rlly but it gets the tag in case ppl r backscrolling my tags on my blog for some reason#anyway this dialogue has been kicking around in my files for about 2 months as it is known to do & i wanted to play with typesetting#'write a fic if you like words so much' absolutely not . what if it was pictures instead. and also i wanted an excuse 2 loop gradient#but yeah uhhhh this is very . very loosely the result of me thinking about the 'island is trapped in the fucking future' theory.#like if so. would it just like. reappear. when the rest of the world catches up w where it was stuck in time. like . 20 more years on.#and thus the q: god wait at what point would sif be older than the age they last knew their parents to be. theyre nearly 30 now so like.#you can see my logical path thru these thoughts yes? anyway i think its fun when these two put their braincells together to realise#the horrors. and kind of exclusively the horrors. wahoo!!!#anyway food for thought re: island reappears and to the islanders it's not been any time at all. but its been like 30 years for the rest#fuck do you do: your boy returns 30 years older plus a family (maybe even a child) and minus . a fucking eye.#also theres a fucking angel with them? update. thats also your boy what the fuck. wait fym theyre married. hold on. wait--
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j4y-k4y · 9 months ago
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aziracrow in the wild wild west 🌵
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mari-lair · 2 months ago
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Commission for @livesworthlivingau! I was tasked with drawing a scene of their fic, and I am delighted he let me do Isa having a flustered heart attack :D
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ghostbsuter · 1 year ago
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"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.
Dick stares at him. "Huh."
"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.
"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.
Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—
Huh.
"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.
Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."
Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.
In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."
And Dick understands.
Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.
"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."
Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."
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ovegakart · 6 months ago
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NONE OF THESE MFS CAN DRIVE
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flwrkid14 · 15 days ago
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Bruce shares custody of Tim with Harley Quinn
Yeah, you read that right. Gotham’s broodiest billionaire vigilante and the queen of chaotic energy are co-parenting Tim Drake. And, somehow, that’s not even the weirdest thing that's happened to the bats this year.
Why? Two words: Joker Junior.
The details are locked down tighter than the Batcave, but here’s what everyone knows (or guesses): Joker broke Tim in ways none of them can fathom. He didn’t just try to kill him—he tried to make Tim like him. And while Tim clawed his way back from the brink, he didn’t do it alone. Harley was there.
She was part of the nightmare. And then, unexpectedly, she was part of the healing. She stepped in, helped Tim survive when Joker was doing his worst. When it was all over, when Joker was (temporarily) gone, she didn’t vanish into Gotham’s chaos. She stayed.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, Tim started calling her “Mom.”
And Bruce didn’t stop him.
Cue the Batfamily losing their collective minds.
Dick is pacing the Batcave, gesturing wildly. “Bruce, this is Harley Quinn we’re talking about! You don’t just co-parent with a rogue! There are laws against this! Or, like, there should be!”
Jason is sitting on the Batmobile, arms crossed, voice dripping with disbelief. “She’s literally a former rogue. She tried to kill you! Like, more than once. This is insane, even for you.”
Steph is perched on the edge of a desk, trying (and failing) not to laugh. “Okay, but, like, can you blame Tim? Harley does make amazing pancakes. Better than Alfred’s, honestly—”
A scandalized gasp echoes from the other side of the room.
Cass just watches quietly, her head tilted, but there’s a small, knowing smile on her face. She gets it. She’s seen the way Tim softens around Harley, how he relaxes in a way he doesn’t around anyone else.
Damian glares at Bruce like he’s lost his last shred of common sense. “Father, you have truly surpassed yourself. Allowing that woman into the sanctity of our home—”
Duke raises a hand cautiously. “Okay, but can we at least talk about how Tim basically has diplomatic immunity now? No rogue in Gotham is gonna mess with him. He’s Harley’s kid!”
And it’s true. Between Harley’s reputation and Poison Ivy stepping in as Tim’s unofficial stepmom (because of course she and Harley got back together), the rogues have adopted a weird kind of reverence for him. Tim’s no longer just a bat to them—he’s Harley’s kid.
Picture this: Tim’s out on patrol, and Riddler has the gall to interrupt with a riddle—only to end it with, “You’re sharper than I thought, kid. Guess Harley taught you well, huh?” before disappearing into the night.
Harley’s brand of parenting is chaotic but deeply personal. She knows Tim’s tells, the way his hands shake when he’s overwhelmed or the too-quiet moments when he’s retreating into himself. She’s the one who sits cross-legged on the floor with him, working on puzzles and cracking jokes until the tension lifts.
She carries extra band-aids in her purse because “Ya never know when a fight with some thug is gonna leave ya with a paper cut!” She also leaves sticky notes on his projects with scribbled messages like “You’re a genius, baby boy!” or “Don’t forget snacks!” They’re goofy, sure, but they make Tim smile when he needs it most. She keeps a stash of snacks in the Manor because Tim forgets to eat when he’s working. She shows up with pancakes at 3 a.m., douses everything in syrup, and calls him “baby boy” in that soft tone that makes Tim feel… safe.
Even Harley’s chaos has an odd kind of comfort to it. She’ll burst into the Manor unannounced, dragging Tim into impromptu “self-care parties” with face masks, bad rom-coms, and every flavor of ice cream imaginable. Somehow, it works.
Ivy, on the other hand, balances Harley’s energy with her own structured nurturing. She insists on “proper nutrition” and occasionally sends Tim home with meal prep containers filled with organic, eco-friendly food labeled things like “Stress-Busting Smoothie” or “Brain-Boosting Soup.” If Bruce raises an eyebrow at it, Ivy simply reminds him that “The human body can only fight crime properly with the right fuel, Bats.”
One time, she cornered Bruce in the greenhouse, pointing an accusatory finger. “If you send Tim out on patrol without a proper meal or at least six hours of sleep, I swear, Bruce, your rose garden is compost.”
And while Harley is the queen of hugs and chaos, Ivy is the one who sits with Tim on the porch at night, talking softly about resilience and regrowth, using plant metaphors Tim pretends not to understand but secretly finds comforting. Once, after a particularly bad night, she gifted him a small cactus with a note: “Even when it feels like the world is trying to tear you apart, you’re stronger than you think. Also, low maintenance, like you.”
Bruce knows the family doesn’t fully understand. But as he watches Harley teaching Tim how to make lasagna one night, the two of them laughing as the kitchen turns into a war zone of flour and tomato sauce, he doesn’t regret it.
Sometimes family doesn’t look like you think it will. Sometimes it’s stitched together from the most unexpected pieces.
And sometimes, it’s an ex-rogue, a traumatized teen, and a brooding billionaire all trying to figure out how to keep the lasagna from burning.
Welcome to Gotham.
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jazstudios · 10 months ago
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Sam gives farmer a crocheted flower bouquet because he's allergic to flowers hehe :)
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kobrafangs · 7 months ago
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something something jaya something forget me nots
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vanteguccir · 10 months ago
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── ୨୧ ! 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗙𝗢𝗢𝗗 𝗥𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘
        𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader
SUMMARY: Where Y/N participates in the Disgusting Food Roulette video and ends up having to take care of Matt.
WARNING: Feeling sick in the stomach.
REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.
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"I really need to participate?" Y/N asked as she ran her eyes over the triplets. She had her hips resting on the table, where various types of food, sweets, and drinks were displayed.
"It'll be cool! And Matt needs the emotional support." Nick joked, lightly patting Matt's right shoulder, who was looking at the food with a disgusted look.
“It’s not like you won’t do well, Y/N.” Chris scoffed, crossing his arms, before looking at the camera. "She is the only person in the world who isn't fussy about any food. Anything you give her, she will eat it."
The girl rolled her eyes, letting out a laugh while shaking her head. It was true that she wasn't fussy about food, but that didn't hold back the shiver that ran up her spine every time she looked at some of the items on the table.
Raw egg? Easy cheese? She felt sick to her stomach just thinking about the taste of them against her tongue.
"As you can see, we have four separate piles of food here. Y/N didn't buy the food of her side since we decided she would participate when we were already at the grocery store." Matt explained while gesturing to the separated piles.
"Exactly, so we bought the food for her." Nick finished with a smirk on his face, arranging the items in a row.
"They put me in a mess, guys. I didn't even know what foods they would buy, now I regret even getting out of bed." Y/N grumbled miserably, helping the boys open all the product packaging.
Nick rolled his eyes at her drama, quickly explaining about the app they would use to choose who would go in turn.
"Let's begin!"
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"Please, don't be me. Please, don't be me." Nick speaks repeatedly with a frown on his face, his right hand over his mouth while his left index finger pressed the screen of his phone.
Y/N let out a laugh at him, also pressing her finger on the screen, along with Chris and Matt. Matt's right arm was around her shoulder as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the strong, disgusting taste that was settling in his mouth.
The girl watched him momentarily from the corner of her eye, checking if he was well within the limit, feeling his hand squeezing her biceps lightly.
Chris's excited scream caught her attention abruptly, her eyes traveling to the screen. Her finger had been chosen to eat the yellow pepper.
She stared at the pepper for a few seconds, the triplets' laughter sounding like a background sound to her ears.
"Wait, isn't that the yellow pepper we use as seasoning?" Y/N asked, taking some steps away from Matt and the boys and finally picking up the food, twirling it between her fingers.
"I don't know. It doesn't matter, just eat it!" Nick pressed, looking at her expectantly.
Matt watched her closely, pressing his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter, supporting his own weight against the table with his left arm.
The girl shrugged. If her theory was right, that was one of her favorite peppers. She brought her hand to her mouth and bit off a small piece, chewing carefully as she felt the taste and burn settle on her tongue.
"Um, not too strong. It's good." Y/N commented, still chewing, swallowing seconds later.
"You're crazy, entirely." Chris shook his head repeatedly, taking steps away from her as if she was mad.
Matt observed her with widened eyes, surprised by her little reaction.
"Put it there." Nick pointed to the counter next to the stove where they were piling up the food they had already eaten, his face showing a disgusting look. "Next!"
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"It's going to be Chris, I can feel it." Y/N muttered, her eyes fixed on the phone as their four index fingers pressed the screen.
The back of Matt's right shoulder was resting against her chest, while her free hand stroked his hair gently. She knew he was about to get sick, so she was trying to stay as close to him as possible.
"Oh no!" Chris shouted, bringing his right hand to his head in a sign of desperation after seeing the result.
"Yes!" Matt celebrated, turning around and hugging Y/N, jumping up and down in place. His sudden movements made her lose her balance, taking them both to the ground.
Y/N had her mouth open and eyes closed as laughter escaped her lips at her boyfriend's euphoria. She couldn't believe his happiness just because he wasn't chosen to eat the yogurt.
Matt screamed in celebration, hugging Y/N tightly. Nick told him to lower his voice due to the hour, but he was completely ignored.
"He is crazy." Chris commented, pointing to the two on the floor as he shook his head, letting out a laugh, momentarily forgetting what he had to eat.
Nick took the camera off the tripod, focusing the lens on the couple, capturing the perfect image of Y/N with her back against the cold floor and Matt with half his body over hers, his arms encircling her torso and his head buried in the curve of her neck, sounds of laughter echoing from there.
Fans would go crazy over that.
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"No!" Matt screamed, his eyes wide and his mouth open. He had been chosen to eat the red pepper.
Y/N winced, her eyes going from her boyfriend to the pepper and back again. Before she could say anything encouraging, Matt picked up the food and bit off half of it.
"Matt! Are you crazy? This is very spicy. Spit it in the trash! Don't swallow it." Y/N yelled, her eyes wide. She put her hands on Matt's shoulders, guiding him to the trash can.
"Spit it out, Matt." Chris repeated, recording his brother's steps with the camera.
Y/N pressed the pedal to the trash can, opening the lid and patting her boyfriend's shoulder as he spat. She bit her lower lip in worry as she noticed his face start to turn red, his eyes filling with tears.
"Oh, baby. Breathe." She asked calmly, guiding him to the front of the table again, her hands resting on his waist, squeezing the covered skin lightly.
"Oh my God, it's so hot." Matt agonized, fanning his face with his right hand. "My lips-"
Chris and Nick laughed at his reaction, taking their fingers to the phone again, wanting to end the video quickly.
"Come on, guys!" Nick called, pushing Y/N's hips with his own - since she was closer to him -, getting her attention.
The girl took Matt's right hand and guided it to the phone, placing him index finger on the screen and then her own, keeping her eyes fixed on her boyfriend's face. Droplets of sweat started to appear on his forehead as his cheeks burned red, and Y/N was ready to get him out of there if necessary.
Chris was chosen next to eat the jelly, and Matt took advantage of the situation to walk around a little, wanting to alleviate the burning sensation in his mouth.
Y/N quickly followed him, helping him drink the water that was still in his hands, despite knowing it wouldn't help much.
"Do you want some milk, my love?" She asked quietly so the camera wouldn't catch it. Matt shook his head, feeling his stomach churn at the thought of adding milk to the horrendous mix of all the things he had eaten.
The boy seemed disoriented, his head hurt, and his tongue burned. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulling the door open and opening his mouth, momentarily exhaling in the cold air, before closing it again.
"Come, love." Y/N pulled him closer to the phone again, intertwining their free hands and squeezing his fingers with her own lightly.
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"Are you okay?" Chris asked, approaching and touching Matt's shoulder. His words sounded worried, even though he was still laughing.
Matt nodded as he drew in puffs of air through his open mouth, a multi-layered piece of colby-jack cheese pressed to his right cheek. Y/N watched him from the side, feeling helpless.
"It's not helping." He shouted, leaning on Nick momentarily and blinking his eyes repeatedly, watching Y/N eat the second to last content.
His heart raced when it was the app's turn to choose who would eat the last item, the raw egg.
"If Matt's chosen, I'll eat for him." Y/N quickly imposed, pressing her finger on the screen and staring intently at it.
"This is not how it works." Chris muttered, bumping his shoulder against hers playfully.
"Fuck the rules." She shrugged, sighing in relief when she saw the app choose Nick.
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"Matt, what was the worst that you ate?" Chris asked, bringing the camera closer to Matt, who was opening the fridge.
The boy ignored him, leaning forward slightly and bringing his mouth under the water filter, taking long sips. Y/N let out a low laugh as she saw Chris frown at not receiving any response, rubbing her boyfriend's back softly.
Matt closed the fridge doors, taking some steps back and resting his arms on the table as he took a deep breath, feeling all the food rise up his throat. He swallowed hard, straightning up and looking at Chris behind the camera, his own eyes filling with tears.
"I'm going to bed." His voice was broken. He turned and walked quickly to his shared room with Y/N, receiving a light slap on the back from Nick.
"Okay, he's going to bed."
Y/N let out a nasal laugh, shaking her head. She quickly walked to the cupboard next to the stove, taking a glass. She opened the fridge, taking a bottle of ice cold water and pouring some milk into the glass, closing the door with her hip.
"I'll take care of him." She told the boys, blowing an air kiss to the lens before walking to their bedroom, balancing the items in her hands, Nick and Chris' voices speaking with the camera falling behind.
The girl turned the door handle with her elbow, slowly entering the room and closing it again behind her back.
Her eyes traveled around momentarily, the lights were off, making it difficult to see anything. She squinted her eyes and quickly found her boy laying on the bed in a fetal position, approaching him in slow steps.
Y/N placed the milk and water on the bedside table and squatted down, resting her arms on the mattress. She brought her right hand to Matt's hair, gently brushing the loose strands out of his eyes. Her fingers caressing his warm skin.
"Honey? What are you feeling?" She asked in a low tone, not wanting to heighten her boyfriend's senses. Her heart sank at the way Matt seemed to be in discomfort, his eyes were closed tightly and his brow was furrowed, his shoulders tense.
"Stomach pain. My tongue is still burning and I'm hot on the insides and cold on the outside." The boy explained, his voice sounding weak followed by him sniffling.
"Come here, baby. Let me help you." Y/N asked gently, standing up from her crouched position and helping Matt sit up slowly.
Her hands grabbed the hem of the black t-shirt that covered his torso, pulling it up slowly, helping him take it off his arms and head, placing it aside on the mattress to fold later.
Y/N quickly grabbed the air conditioning remote that was next to the items she brought, turning it on and setting it to 18°C. Not so cold, but refreshing.
She put the remote back in place and picked up the milk, sitting on the edge of the bed and raising the glass so Matt could see what it was, receiving a whine in response.
"I know it might seem gross to drink milk after everything you've eaten, but it will help lessen the burn from the pepper, baby." Y/N spoke calmly, bringing the glass closer to Matt's face. "You ate a large amount. If we don't alleviate it now, this burning sensation will continue for several hours, sweetheart."
The boy sighed before wrapping both of his hands around Y/N's, who was still holding the glass for fear of Matt dropping it since his hands were shaking. He took it to his lips and closed his eyes tightly, tilting the glass and taking a small sip.
Y/N encouraged him with small whispers, pushing his hair back with her free hand, freeing his forehead from the heat of his strands.
Matt put the glass down after a few sips, pushing it closer to her, showing that he didn't want any more. He removed his hands from around Y/N's, allowing her to put it down.
The girl placed it on the bedside table again, watching her boyfriend's reactions.
"Do you think you're going to throw up? Or are you okay, and it's just the burning?"
"No, I'm not going to throw up, I just want to sleep." The boy responded weakly, lowering his torso onto the bed again, feeling the duvet pressing against his back. He turned onto his side, pressing his right hand to his exposed stomach. "Come lie down with me, please."
"I will, my love. Just let me take this glass to the kitchen, and I'll be right back." Her tone was low.
She leaned her body over his, sealing his cold forehead with her warm lips for a few seconds before pulling away and rising from the bed. She took the glass again, pushing the water bottle closer to the bed before taking steps towards the exit.
"I love you." She heard Matt whisper before closing the door behind her. A huge smile decorated her face as she felt her heart race.
She would do anything to make him feel better and Matt knew that.
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extra - comments:
"I seriously thought Matt would throw up everything 😭"
"omg Matt is CRAZY for eating half of a red pepper without a second thought 🤡"
"Y/N worrying about Matt is so cute 🥺"
"the way Y/N kept looking at Matt all the time, making sure he was okay 😔 I love them so much"
"Matt almost dying, Y/N worried sick and Chris and Nick laughing until their next generation was the best thing I saw today"
"Matt and Y/N on the floor laughing their asses off is my new romain empire 🧎‍♀️"
"Matt saying 'I'm going to bed' after a traumatic experience is totally me for real"
"can we take a minute to appreciate Y/N eating the yellow pepper like it was chocolate? WHAT A WOMAN GUYS!!!! 🤤"
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@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq
(If you want to be added to the taglist, go to this post)
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giantkillerjack · 1 year ago
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Me: hm, I want something to put on the TV as background noise... Huh. Looks like YouTube is recommending something called The Last Unicorn. That's perfect, it's probably some old shitty animation that has aged poorly! I can watch it ironically!
Me, 2 hours later as the credits roll: *crying, cheering, buying the book, composing the songs*
Me, 2 weeks later: So I have compiled all of the quotes from the book that I think could make good tattoos, and also, HOW HAVE I NEVER LEARNED ABOUT HOW THE LAST UNICORN FUCKING SLAPS??? This gay-ass little fairytale fed my soul! Watered my crops! Transed my gender! Can't believe I heard of this story from youtube recommendations, of all places!!
#original#the last unicorn#tlu#peter s beagle#molly gru#schmendrick#schmendrick the magician#two of my favorite characters in anything right there in the center of the story! and I'm glad I saw the film first!#my reading ability has diminished due to trauma disability etc. but it seems like having a visual reference actually really helped!#no wonder i only ever want to read fan fic! turns out reading is not actually Superior to other types of Storytelling. it's just different.#to say otherwise is snobbishness I have been eminently guilty of in my life!#but like it is easier for me to consume tv and movies and that is fine actually. also that's why I'm doing a graphic novel lol#because i wanted to make something i would actually be able to read if i found it at a library. altho the audio book IS gonna be bomb#the audiobook is for visually impaired readers and anyone who wants or needs it! accessible stories for everyone! yeah!!#my gender was already transed but now I've gained an ADDITIONAL gender! which one? I'll never tell 😘#i am so powerful i have so much fuckin gender. my wife has no gender. and she is equally as powerful.#and also she has STUDIED THE BLADE#mostly zoro's blades from One Piece#normally YouTube recommends me shit movies like idiocracy or smth this is like if every day ur cat brought you a piece of rotten food and#then one day it brings you a BEAUTIFULLY ANIMATED TALE FEATURING MY BELOVED TWINK FUCK-UP WIZARD FRIEND AND MY ALL-TIME HOMEGIRL MOLLY GRU#and also it's soft and beautiful and funny and fucking weird!! i wrote melodies to the songs in the books on my ukulele
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dandylovesturtles · 4 months ago
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It's time! For Room Fic Part 4 Part B! Of how many parts? IDK ANYMORE
This is the longest part of the fic yet, and it's also the most... talky. But I felt like this was a part of the recovery everyone wanted to see so I thiiiink it's fine.
Content warnings: vomiting, HEAVY discussion of eating issues (including calorie counting, done purely as a recovery mechanism in this fic but still worth noting), mentions of the non-consensual voyeurism that happened in the first part, and as always, anxiety and aftermath of torture
If you're lost, start here!
I'm soooo tired I only proofread like half of this. it'll go through full editing when it goes on AO3
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Leo crashes into his room and grabs anything within arm’s reach to pull over himself. The blanket from his bed. A cardboard box, contents dumped on the floor. His skateboard, a beach towel, a plank of wood used to prop up action figures.
He cowers into his claustrophobic, makeshift nest, clutching his ill gotten gains to his chest. He doesn’t know why he bothered, because there’s nowhere to hide in here, and then they’ll…
They’ll do what? It’s his family. And if they’re upset with him for stealing the chips, well, he deserves that. Who is he to take food, when they’re running low already?
That’s what he expected, actually, when the lights flipped on and Raph was standing there. To get yelled at, chewed out, dressed down - the way he’d been waiting for Raph to do this whole time. Why can’t he just do as he’s told? Why does he always make the wrong decisions?
But Raph hadn’t yelled. He ran off. And now Leo doesn’t know what to expect at all.
He assumes Raph went to get their dad, or even Draxum. He waits in his hiding spot, heart pounding in his ears, and listens for the call of his full name, the surefire indicator that he’s in Big Time Trouble. He stole food, food he isn’t even allowed to eat, and when they’re running low, too. He doesn’t know what the punishment is going to be, and the fear of not knowing pulls him deeper into his nest.
He wants to know. He dreads finding out.
Time passes. He has no idea how much. There’s no clocks in here (there hadn’t been any clocks in there), and his phone is on the nightstand, hooked to its charger. To get it he would have to leave his hiding place. And he’s scared.
So he waits and waits and waits. Until his limbs grow uncomfortable and cramped, until no amount of shifting dulls the pain. His heart is still rabbit quick in his chest. (He may be a turtle but call him the hare-)
No one comes for him.
Finally, finally, when his body physically can’t take this position anymore, he scoots out of his hiding spot and gets to his feet, bag of chips clutched in his fingers. He walks to the curtain over his doorway - though “walks” is really overselling it, with the way he pauses for hours between every step.
When he makes it to the doorway, he peeks out.
The lair is quiet. Everything is dark. No one is stirring.
He makes his way back to his bed, and looks at the bag in his hands. He feels so anxious that he’s nauseous. And he can’t eat if he’s nauseous or he’ll lose his dinner.
So he can’t even eat the damn things. The irony would be funny if he could laugh.
He kneels down and fishes around under his bed for a box he knows is there. It’s full of little toys and trinkets from childhood - things he saved from the old lair that he couldn’t bear to throw away, but is too embarrassed to be seen with.
He dumps the contents of the box into the bigger one he hid under earlier. This is more important.
Then he hides the chips inside and scoots the box under the bed.
He climbs back onto his mattress, cringing when the bed springs creak. His blanket is still on the floor, but he doesn’t want to get up and risk making more noise.
So he curls up on his mattress and stares at the wall and tries futilely to sleep.
Donnie’s brand new curtains don’t even help. Maybe that’s part of his punishment.
-----
Somehow, he manages to make it to breakfast. He doesn’t remember who poked their head in to tell him it was ready, or how he picked himself up and walked to the kitchen. He just ends up there.
Mikey greets him with a sunny grin and the announcement that he gets oatmeal today, along with his scrambled eggs. There’s even some banana on top of the oats. He should be excited for the variety, but he feels numb. Still, he smiles as he’s expected to and thanks Mikey and hopes it passes scrutiny.
Draxum comes in, and then his dad. He stiffens up for both, muscles tense while he waits for the yelling to start. But no one starts yelling. Draxum sits and eats and Leo hears him give a reminder to take vitamins. Splinter reads out the shopping list, and everyone scrambles to add last minute items. 
Normally, this is where Leo would be chiming in with all the snacks and junk food he wants, but he knows if he says anything he’ll be turned down, so he doesn’t. He can feel the weirdness of it, but he doesn’t take his eyes off his food to see anyone’s appraisal.
Donnie’s last in; he drinks his coffee fast and tries his luck with adding uranium to the list. He grabs a granola bar instead of eating what the rest of them are having, then tells Mikey to meet him at the entrance in five minutes and leaves. Mikey piles the dishes in the sink, then rounds the table to give everyone a hug goodbye, Draxum included.
Leo smiles when Mikey gets to him. Says, “Have a good day, Mikester.” Swallows down the impulse to grab on and beg him to stay.
He finishes breakfast, then goes to the TV room and settles into the recliner. Raph comes by and pats his shoulder and tells him to call if he needs anything. Splinter hops up and pats his head before following Raph away.
He’s alone now. Alone, with Draxum, who’s currently in the kitchen doing who knows what.
(Leo doesn’t like leaving him alone in there. All their food is in there.)
(Well, not all of it. Leo’s made sure of that.)
He lays in the chair and pretends to be asleep. And he listens. 
To be sure that his brothers and dad are really gone, and aren’t coming back for a forgotten wallet or phone.
Until Draxum leaves the kitchen and moves for the train car he’s taken over as his own.
Until he’s sure no one is watching him.
Then he gets up. He goes to his room. He’s not sure why he feels like he’s sneaking, when he’s obviously allowed to be there.
He makes sure all his windows are covered, curtains or otherwise. Makes sure the curtain over his door is stretched as far as it will go.
Then, as silently as possible, he reaches under his bed and pulls out the box. Opens it to reveal his stolen goods.
He unrolls the top of the bag, wincing at each crackle of the plastic. His eyes dart to the door, to the windows, to make sure no one is there, no one is watching him.
Then he reaches his hand in and grabs a chip in his fingers.
He’s not sure if he should do this now. Maybe he should wait, save this when things get dire. But everyone is gone. They’ve left him alone, with Draxum. What if Draxum doesn’t let him eat, with no one here to step in?
He’s scared of being hungry again. He doesn’t want to go back to that place. 
Just a few, he tells himself. Just a few, and then he’ll stop.
He pulls the chip out of the bag, and takes a bite.
-----
They’re at the local grocery where no one asks questions, basket half full and three minutes in to Splinter trying to decide if the Buy One Get One Half Off deal for frozen dinners is really worth it or not, when it occurs to Raph that maybe they shouldn’t have all left at the same time.
Of course, in normal times this wouldn’t have been a big deal at all, especially with a nominally responsible adult in the lair. But times haven’t been normal for over two weeks now. The thin shell of his little brother, once always the biggest and loudest in the room, now trying to make himself as small as possible, isn’t normal. 
They got Leo back, but it still feels like someone else has him.
And now Raph feels guilty. He’d been so desperate to just get away, from the feeling of being inadequate, from the fear he’d make things worse, that now he’s probably made them worse anyway by leaving Leo alone with a guy he does not like. Raph should have stayed home. Or told Mikey and Donnie to wait until he and Splinter were back before leaving.
(That worries him too, for different reasons. He knows he can’t lock his brothers up in the lair to keep them safe. But he kinda wants to.)
But he didn’t do any of that, and now they’re out and Leo is alone. Raph thinks of the chip bag and sighs. He just can’t seem to make the right decisions. The calculus is overwhelming, and Raph’s always left math to Donnie.
“Hey Pop,” he says, watching Splinter flip his fourth TV dinner over to look at the nutritional information. “Do you think… Leo is gonna be okay?”
Splinter pauses, then gingerly puts the box into their basket. He pats Raph at the knee, and Raph feels the overwhelming desire to be small again. 
“...Yes, I do. It will take time and care, but I think, one day-”
“No,” Raph cuts in, “I mean, do you think Leo is gonna be okay today? I mean, we kinda just ran off and left him alone.”
“He is not alone.” Splinter makes a face, at odds with his words. “Baron Draxum is the most annoying man in the world, but he would not let harm come to you boys.”
Raph rubs his neck. “Sure, but… Leo’s not exactly Draxum’s biggest fan. Especially not now…”
“Blue does not have to like him,” says Splinter airily. “He just has to eat the food Draxum gives him.”
“Yeah, but that’s the whole problem,” Raph insists. “He’s bein’ a huge jerk about it.”
“Ah… I know. I have spoken to him about his… tone.” Splinter waves a hand. “He is trying to be more polite.”
Raph thinks back to breakfast this morning. He’d laugh if anything were funny right now. “Is that why he was all “please” and “thank you” and “sorry” this morning? He looked like he ate a lemon.”
And judging by how distant Leo was acting, he doubts any of it made an impression. 
“It just proves that the man is incapable of being nice!” Splinter chuckles. “Do not worry, Red. We will only be gone a few hours. Most likely, Blue will sleep until we are back.”
“Raph hopes so…”
They continue moving around the aisles, crossing things off their list as they do. It’s normal and boring and Raph thinks he needs that right now. If only it distracted him from the thoughts in his head…
There’s so many questions to dwell on. And the biggest one looms over them all, constantly drawing Raph’s attention back to it.
They’re in the soup aisle when he speaks up again, saying, “Hey, Pops, do you think…” and then flagging out before he can voice it.
“Often,” says Splinter, reaching for a can of tomato bisque. “But at my age, it can be difficult!”
Raph snorts despite himself, grabbing the soup can and passing it to his dad’s fingers. “Come on, Raph’s trying to ask a serious question here!”
“Hm.” Splinter puts the can in their basket. “Then I will give a serious answer.”
“Do you think…” Raph shifts the shopping basket from one hand to the other, and resolves not to chicken out this time. “Do you think Leo did the right thing? Not talkin’ to that Bishop guy?”
Splinter goes quiet for a long time. He points to a can of alphabet soup, the kind Leo insists he’s too old for but will happily eat when he’s sick, and Raph dutifully puts the can in the basket.
“…I think he did the brave and noble thing,” he says at length.
“That ain’t the same,” says Raph.
“I do not know if there was a right thing.” Splinter’s voice is sad, fingers idly stroking one of the soup cans. “It could be that if Blue had talked, he would not be as hurt as he is now. Or it could be that Bishop would have… disposed of him, once they had what they wanted.”
The idea of Bishop “disposing” of Leo steals Raph’s breath. But it’s not like he hasn’t thought of this before.
“April said pretty much the same thing.”
“Oho! April is very wise.” Splinter nods in satisfaction, affirming for Raph once again that his favorite kid is definitely April. But then he looks up at Raph sidelong and says, “But that answer does not satisfy you.”
Raph sighs. “It’s just… what if he thought he had to stay quiet, because of something I- because he thought it’s what he was supposed to do?”
A furry hand lands on his. Raph takes a deep shuddering breath, and uses his free hand to scrub at his eyes. They’re damp, suddenly, and he’s not sure when that happened.
“…I often worry the same thing,” says Splinter, “about all four of you.”
Raph doesn’t know what to say to that. He already knows that their dad would give anything for the four of them to not have to fight; he also knows it’s out of his dad’s hands.
Why can he accept that, but not accept the same for himself?
“I’m afraid I do not have an answer for your question,” says Splinter, pulling Raph back to the grocery store. “I want you boys to be safe. But the situation Leonardo was in afforded him no safety. I’m not sure there is a choice he could have made that would have helped him. Still…” Splinter sighs. “It could be the reasons he made the choice he did are troubling.”
“Yeah,” says Raph. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”
“Mm.” Splinter pats Raph’s hand. “Your questions and worries are wise ones, Raphael. Meditate on your answer, and when you are ready, share it with Blue. You will find your path forward together.”
Raph chews on his lips. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess up,” he admits.
“Sharing the truth in your heart is never a mistake,” says Splinter, “so long as you are doing it with love.”
Raph blinks at him. “Pops, isn’t that a line from one of your movies?”
“It is a good line! Very heartfelt.” He picks up another can of soup and tosses it into the basket. “As long as you are talking to Blue with love, you will do just fine, Red. And remember, this is not your sole responsibility. We are all here to help each other.”
It should be self-evident, but the reminder pulls some weight off Raph’s shoulders. It’s not just up to him. Everyone is coming together to help Leo. That’s why Donnie and Mikey are at the scrapyard, to finish making curtain rods for Leo’s room. That’s why Draxum is always researching and scribbling in his notebook, refining his meal plan for Leo’s recovery.
It’s not just Raph against the world. He isn’t alone, and neither is Leo.
“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pops.”
“Of course, Red. Now, let’s keep moving or we’ll be late getting back!”
On their way to the checkout line, Raph spots the candy aisle, and a bag of hard, sour candies. He stops, reaching out and brushing the bag with his fingers.
“Mm… that is Blue’s favorite, isn’t it?” asks Splinter.
“Yeah.” Raph pulls the bag off its hook, holding it over the basket uncertainly. “I know he can’t have ‘em yet, but he’ll be able to eat normal stuff soon, right?”
“Right.” Splinter nods. “Put them in! We will hide them until Draxum says it is okay, then give them to him.”
Raph grins and drops the bag into the basket. At least it’s something to look forward to.
-----
Leo is halfway through the bag of chips when the curtain to his room is pushed aside and Draxum is standing there.
He was saying something about the vitamins Leo forgot to take as he came in, the little blue pill organizer clutched in his hand. But now he freezes, taking in the scene: Leo with a handful of sour cream and onion chips, his cheeks bulging slightly, the salty evidence tracking up the sleeve of his hoodie.
He’s crossed the room before Leo can blink. He grabs Leo’s wrist, and Leo cries out, twisting his arm to try and free himself.
But he can’t, he’s weak, he’s so weak-
“What are you eating!?” Draxum bellows. He tosses the pill organizer onto Leo’s bedside table; one of the lids pops open and there’s little plinks as vitamins scatter. “How much of this have you had!?”
He wrenches the bag out of Leo’s grip, and Leo yelps again as he loses the food. The only food he had, and now Draxum has it and Leo is going to-
“This bag is over half empty,” snarls Draxum, waving it in Leo’s face. Leo doesn’t have the presence of mind to defend himself, because he’s still trying to wrench his wrist free. He claws at Draxum’s arm with his free hand, and somehow it gets Draxum to let go; he jerks away with a gasp, dropping the handful of chips to the floor, and at the same time the ones already in his mouth leave painful scratches down his throat and lodge there. Leo doubles over and wheezes in a desperate attempt to get air.
“Are you- Leonardo!” Draxum looms over him, and Leo doesn’t have the strength to flee. He can’t do anything as Draxum strikes him, once, twice, three times on the shell in big, open-palmed slaps.
A white-hot cough rips up Leo’s throat, and he spews the half-chewed potato chips across his blanket, bits of drool and spittle dangling from his lips and tears rolling down his face. He sucks in a deep breath as feeling returns to his limbs.
The hand that hit him moves toward him again, and Leo dodges this time, flinging himself off his bed and into the floor, scrambling backwards to put distance between himself and his attacker.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!” he shouts, hand flailing for his swords and not finding them. Where did he put them? Where did they take them?
“Leonardo-” 
Draxum takes a step toward him, and Leo pushes to his feet, grabbing for anything nearby to defend himself. But there’s nothing, nothing, where are his swords-
“Leonardo,” says Draxum more firmly, and he takes another step forward. “Stop this, you’re going to hurt-”
“No!” Leo presses himself back against the bookcase on the far wall, the metal shelves biting into the skin of his arms. “No,” he repeats, and a high, manic laugh bubbles through his throat. “You took my food.”
“This,” Draxum shakes the bag, “is all empty calories. This is not going to help your recovery! Why can’t you just do as you’re told-”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Leo spits. He feels stronger than he did a moment ago, pushing himself off the bookshelf and standing on steadier legs, squaring up against Draxum. “Just do as I’m told?” He laughs, a cold sound. “Just like Bishop wanted.”
Draxum stiffens. Something about his expression is… weird. If Leo didn’t know better, he’d almost say Draxum looks scared. “Do not compare me to him,” he says, and his voice is much lower than it was a moment ago. “I am trying to help you.”
“Help me?” Leo holds out his hand, taking a step forward. “Then give me my food back.”
Draxum watches him, gaze unwavering. He holds the chip bag closer to his chest. “I cannot.”
Leo barks out a laugh, high and cold. “I knew it. You’re just lying to me.”
Now he’s the one advancing on Draxum, slow but strong steps, one at a time. Draxum does not move.
“Leonardo-”
“I’m on to you,” says Leo. His voice is a chilly sing-song. “You’re sooo happy to have everyone out of the house. Now there’s no one to stop you from torturing me. Now you can watch me suffer.”
“I do not want you to suffer,” says Draxum, his tone measured. He still hasn’t moved an inch, even though Leo is right in front of him now, within striking distance. 
“Then why did you take my food!?”
“This is not good for you,” says Draxum. “I’ll feed you a healthy lunch in two hours.”
“Yeah?” Leo shakes his head. “What do you want me to do for it?”
Draxum’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”
“Come on. Tell me.” Leo grins. It hurts his face. “Want me down on my knees? Want me to beg?”
Draxum’s face goes a shade paler. “No,” he says, firm. “You don’t have to do anything.”
“I don’t believe you,” says Leo. He laughs again. “I don’t. I don’t BELIEVE YOU!”
His fist connects with the glass- but it’s not glass, it’s Draxum’s face, and he goes sailing across the room like a rag doll. He slams back first into shelving, and there’s a clatter as Leo’s possessions tumble and fall around him.
He looks at Leo, eyes wide but expression steady, despite the fact that Leo just…
Leo… doesn’t know what just happened.
He shouldn’t have been able to hit that hard. He shouldn’t have been able to hit at all- Draxum should have blocked that, should have fought back, should have… should have…
“...What?” says Leo, and it comes out with a crack down the middle.
Draxum watches him a moment longer. Then he sighs and pushes himself off the shelves, getting back to his feet. He doesn’t come closer. “I cannot give you these,” he says, indicating the bag. “But I will not fight you.”
“...Why not?” Leo asks, because it just doesn’t follow anything he thought was happening here.
“Because I care for you,” says Draxum simply. Like it’s obvious.
“...I don’t understand,” Leo says, because he doesn’t.
Draxum nods. “That’s because I haven’t properly explained it to you. I didn’t think it was necessary… but it was. Is.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek, starting to glow red from Leo’s punch. “I’m very sorry for that, Leonardo.”
Leo stares. Draxum is… apologizing? He should be attacking, fighting back, not apologizing!
The adrenaline leeches out of Leo, leaving him sagging in the middle of his room - his messy room, with everything thrown around like it’s in an active war zone. A million emotions are running through him, his dying rage warring against the confusion and the beginnings of remorse, a roiling mix that leaves him feeling sick to his stomach.
…Oh wait, no. He’s actually sick to his stomach.
Leo clamps a hand over his mouth, and Draxum is moving again - more calmly, this time. He drops the chip bag on the floor and grabs the wastebasket Leo has sitting by what could generously be called a desk. He holds it out, just in time for Leo to lose his breakfast and all the chips he just downed.
Leo hovers over the wastebasket until he’s empty, until he’s spit a few times to try and get rid of the taste. Then he wipes his mouth on his palm and looks up at Draxum warily.
“Are you finished?” Draxum asks.
Leo shrugs. Draxum takes that as an affirmative and lowers the wastebasket to the floor by the doorway.
“Why are you helping me?” Leo asks.
“I’ve been helping you this whole time,” says Draxum, and it’s only the exasperation that manages to break through that makes Leo think it’s - maybe - not a lie.
“Why?” he repeats, more urgently. 
“Because you are my son.”
Leo steps back, his knees knocking into his bed. He sinks down onto the mattress, balling himself up until he can wrap his arms around his knees. 
“No,” he says. “Mikey’s your son. Raph and Donnie, they’re your sons.”
A look passes over Draxum’s face. It’s… sad.
“You are my son, too.” Draxum takes a step toward him, then seems to second guess himself and stops. “I know we don’t get along. But the fear that froze my chest when they told me you were gone couldn’t mean anything else.”
Leo stares at Draxum, searching every part of his expression for any hint, any suggestion, that he’s lying. He waits for Draxum to change his tune, to start yelling again, to hit him, to do something.
Draxum doesn’t. And Leo sags on the bed. The feeling of fear with nowhere to direct it leaves him floating.
“I’m going to explain everything to you now,” says Draxum. “But I need to get a few things first. Will you be alright on your own for a few minutes?”
Being alone for a few minutes sounds great; Leo needs to pull himself together. He nods.
“Good.” Draxum stoops and picks up the wastebasket, then the bag of chips, and the chips that fell on the floor. “Answer your phone,” he says, “before your brother comes back to skin me alive.”
Then he leaves the train car. It’s only then Leo realizes his phone is ringing - has been ringing.
He scrambles to pick it up, seeing Raph’s name and picture lighting up the screen. Raph, who is supposed to be getting groceries, because they’re running low.
Raph, who apparently didn’t rat him out about the chips.
Leo shakily presses the answer button. Then he takes a deep breath and swallows to try and calm his voice.
Then he does what he does best and starts talking.
-----
“Heeey, bro,” says Leo, and Raph wants to weep with relief.
He’s two full blocks away from the grocery now, headed for the manhole cover closest to the lair. Their groceries are somewhere on the street behind him, and Splinter is held tight in his other arm. When Leo didn’t pick up right away, Raph started moving.
He felt it, after all: not as strong as the first time, not as desperate or afraid, but still there. Leo, terrified and alone and angry, crying out for help.
Leo hadn’t answered the first four calls, and the worst scenarios are still playing out in Raph’s imagination, even though he can hear Leo now.
“Leo!” he cries, and nearly fumbles the phone. He hits the speaker button, lowering it so Splinter can hear, too. “What happened!? Are you okay!? We’re on our way back right now!”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” says Leo, and his voice is scratchy and hoarse, but trying to be placating. “What are you talking about, big guy?” He sounds shaky, like saying those words in that tone is taking so much effort, and Raph wants to hit something until it breaks. 
“Just tell me what happened,” he says, trying to sound calm and failing. Splinter pats his arm and speaks up.
“We just need to know if you are alright, Blue.”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” says Leo, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. He clears his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
Raph falters, staring at the phone. Does Leo not know? Could Leo really not feel himself doing that?
He gives his dad a helpless look. Unfortunately, Splinter looks just as helpless. Raph dithers on his answer too long, finally choking out, “Raph just… got a bad feeling.”
“You get bad feelings over everything.”
(Raph wishes he did. Then he would have gotten a bad feeling when Leo went to Run of the Mill on his own.)
“This was just… a real bad feeling.”
“Leonardo,” says Splinter softly, “are you certain you are okay?”
“Yeah,” says Leo, and he doesn’t sound like he’s okay, but like an actor pretending to be someone who’s okay. “It’s… Look, me and Drax got in a fight, but it wasn’t a big deal.”
“He fought you!?” Raph shouts. Someone across the street gives him a weird look.
��Not physically!” says Leo hastily. “Not- I mean- he didn’t- it’s not like he would hurt me, right?”
It sounds a little too much like an actual question, and Raph feels queasy.
“He better not, or Raph’ll hurt him.”
“Red,” says Splinter softly. Then he says, into the phone, “No, Blue. He will not hurt you.”
“...Right,” says Leo quietly. “Yeah. He won’t.”
Raph breathes shakily, trying to quell the urge to pummel a car parked on the side of the road into scrap metal. “Listen, we’re on our way back right now, okay? Just give us-”
“You got the groceries already?” Leo interrupts. He sounds so fragile.
Again, Raph looks helplessly at Splinter. This time, Splinter steps in.
“We’re getting them right now, Blue. Then we’ll be on our way back.”
“...Yeah. Cool. Good.” Leo clears his throat again. “Then… see you guys in a few?”
“...Yeah,” says Raph, at a loss. “A few.”
“Okay. Well. Bye.”
He hangs up. Raph doesn’t move the phone, staring at it long after the screen goes dark and Leo’s smiling face disappears.
“Pops, we’re not really going back for the food, are we?”
“He’ll be upset if we come back without it.”
Raph knows he’s right. He knows that. But everything in his body is screaming to get back to Leo right now, not to leave him alone for another second.
“We can’t all run off and leave him again,” he says.
“Yes,” agrees Splinter. “You are right.”
Raph nods. Then, even though it tears him apart, he turns around and starts walking back to the grocery store. He hopes no one spotted their bags and took them, or they’ll have to start over. They’ll have to leave Leo alone even longer.
“He hated being alone as a kid,” he says.
“I know,” says his dad.
“We shouldn’t have left him today. I knew it.”
“Yes. You were right.”
Raph feels a little mad at Splinter then, that he didn’t think through the consequences. Splinter said this isn’t on Raph alone, but if he’s the only one thinking about the wellbeing of his brothers…
His brothers.
He puts Splinter down, then unlocks his phone again. “I’m gonna call the other guys. They probably felt that, too.”
“A good idea,” says Splinter. Raph nods at the approval, then clicks Donnie’s contact.
Thankfully for Raph’s anxiety, he answers on the second ring. “Hello you are now conversing with Donatello,” he says in a rush, following up with, “What happened to Leo!? Are you home!?”
“No, but I talked to him,” Raph reassures him quickly. “He says he and Barry got in a fight.”
“A fight!?” Donnie echoes. “Aha! I knew he’d turn back to supervillainy one day! You owe me twenty bucks!” A pause, and then Donnie says, “Wait, is Leo okay!?”
“No,” says Raph honestly, “but I think it’s just a normal sort of bad. It wasn’t that kinda fight.”
“Ah. An emotional fight…” Donnie sighs. “But it was bound to happen, I suppose.”
“…Yeah,” Raph agrees, even though he thinks there must have been something they could have done to prevent it. He thinks about the chips again. He doesn’t know what the right thing was, still. “You felt it, right?”
“Yes. It wasn’t as strong as the first time, though.”
“What about Mikey, did he feel it, too?”
“Probably.”
Raph frowns. “You don’t know?”
“I am not Micheal.”
“…So can you ask?”
“I suppose I can text him for you.”
Raph nearly drops the phone. Then he glances down at Splinter, looking for any hint that he’s listening into Donnie’s half of the conversation.
“Why don’t you ask him, since he is right there with you where he is supposed to be!?”
“H-huh? Oh. Oh, yes!” Donnie chuckles nervously. “The buddy system, where he is my buddy, and stays in the same place as me and doesn’t go anywhere else.”
“Right,” hisses Raph. “That buddy system.”
“Yes! Well. He iiiis…n’t with me, but! He is. Here. On the other side of the junkyard!”
Raph rubs the bridge of his nose. “Well, tell him to get back from the other side of the junkyard right now so he can be with his buddy!”
“Yes, I will do that. Right now. And then we’ll be together because we’re in the same place, haha, but I’m so very busy right now goodbye Raphala!”
He hangs up the phone. Raph scowls at it.
“Is everything alright?” asks Splinter, and Raph wants to rat them out, just for a moment, but he ain’t a snitch. Even when he thinks his brothers are being unbelievably stupid.
“Everything’s fine, Pops,” he says, quickly opening his text thread with Mikey.
boy you better get your butt back to D right now or so help me you will NOT like what comes next
Then he gives Splinter a strained smile and repeats, “Everything’s fine! Let’s get those groceries!”
-----
When Draxum comes back, he’s carrying a plastic baggy, a bottle of Gatorade, and a whiteboard under his arm. He requests permission to sit on Leo’s bed, and Leo nods reluctantly.
He sets the whiteboard to the side, then opens the Gatorade and passes it to Leo. Then he opens the plastic baggy and holds that out, too.
There’s crackers in the bag. Leo takes them, a little stunned.
“I can eat these?” he asks.
“They’ll help settle your stomach,” says Draxum. “It’s not good for you to eat too much, but it’s also not good for your stomach to sit empty.”
Leo cautiously takes one of the crackers out, watching Draxum as he does. When no hand reaches to stop him, he takes a bite, chewing slow. He still feels a little nauseous, but the familiar texture and taste of the cracker soothes him somehow.
“Good,” says Draxum, propping the whiteboard on his knees and popping the cap off a marker. “Take sips of the drink, too. You need the electrolytes.”
Leo does as he’s told, alternating bites of the cracker with sips of the Gatorade. His stomach slowly unknots, and the tension in his shoulders relaxes.
He wasn’t expecting a snack, but Draxum brought him one.
On the board, Draxum has written the days of the week, and drawn out a grid underneath them. Leo eats his snack and watches as Draxum fills each square on the grid with a number.
“Where’d you even get that?” he asks after a minute.
“I borrowed it from Donatello’s lab.”
Leo whistles. “Without asking?”
“I don’t think he will mind.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Leo points at the numbers. They aren’t times, or prices, so… “What are these?”
Draxum lowers the board, turning to look at Leo. “Do you know what refeeding syndrome is?”
“…Should I?”
Draxum shakes his head. “No, there’s no reason for you to have known. I should have explained this sooner, but it didn’t feel necessary. …And I thought it might scare you.”
“Scare me?” Leo repeats. He’s not sure what could be even more scary than the fear he feels all the time now.
“I am not telling you this to scare you,” Draxum stresses. “I am telling you this so you understand what is happening now.”
Leo slowly nods.
“Right. So, do you know that when a person is starving, their body changes how it processes nutrients?”
“Yeah, it’s like, starvation mode.”
“If you must call it that,” says Draxum with a nod. “The body stops relying on carbs and glucose and uses fatty acids instead. This helps preserve the muscles, but causes a severe depletion in intracellular minerals.”
That sounded like a Donnie-level infodump to Leo. He stares at Draxum blankly. “Can you say that again, en Ingles por favor?”
Draxum actually makes a noise that could almost be a laugh. “Alright, think of it this way: a painter wants to use purple, but their purple paints are running low. So they start using red and blue mixed together, which solves the problem of preserving the purple paint, at the cost of running low on red and blue.”
Leo raises his eye ridges. “Is this how you explain stuff to Mikey?”
Draxum shrugs. “He understands art metaphors.”
Leo settles back a little more comfortably on his bed. He munches on a cracker. “It’s fine for today. Think of a comic book metaphor for next time.”
Draxum gives a long suffering sigh and says, “Fine. But do you understand now?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Good. So when a person eats again after a long term starvation event, their body won’t start relying on glucose again right away. It’s still in “starvation mode,” as you called it, and switching isn’t easy. The painter buys a new purple paint, but the color is different enough that they will have to use more red and blue to blend the two together.”
“I’m starting to lose track of the art metaphor here. We added purple, but we’re still low on red and blue, right?”
“Yes, precisely. Your body is low on critical minerals, and those need to be replenished at the same time it is given more carbs to convert to glucose.”
“But I still don’t understand why that means I have to eat less,” says Leo.
“Digestion itself takes energy,” says Draxum. “And the body isn’t using the tools it’s being given properly yet. So it is using more and more minerals without replacing any. The imbalance leads to stress on the body, which has negative downstream effects.”
“So, TLDR, if I eat too much right now, my body can’t handle it and I’ll get sick.”
“I have no idea what TLDR means, but yes, simply put.”
Leo looks at the cracker in his hand thoughtfully. “So all the times I’ve puked are refeeding syndrome?”
“No,” says Draxum with a shake of his head. “That is because your stomach has shrunk, and you’ve overstuffed it.” A pause, then Draxum adds, “Though I believe what just happened was a stress response.”
“I’m not stressed,” says Leo. The look Draxum gives him is not convinced. “Sooo then what is refeeding syndrome if it’s not barfing?”
“The lack of minerals causes severe stress on all parts of the body, especially the organs. This can lead to a number of disorders… including organ failure.” Draxum pauses, like he doesn’t want to say more, but he still adds, “In extreme cases, it can lead to heart failure.”
The cracker Leo is holding slips through his fingers. He feels his pulse speed up, something cold and terrible sliding through him.
“If I eat too much my heart could stop?” he asks, and his voice is small.
“In extreme cases,” Draxum repeats. “If you began showing symptoms, we would take you to a hospital. Even in the Hidden City there is no mystic cure-all for this, but they could at least reduce the stress on your organs.”
Leo shakes his head. His hands are trembling. The words feel like they’re coming to him through thousands of feet of water.
“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”
“I did not want to scare you,” Draxum says again. “And I did not think it was necessary. Refeeding syndrome is entirely preventable, if precautions are taken.”
It barely penetrates. All Leo wants is food. All he wants is to eat. But now food somehow feels like the enemy. He suddenly queasy again. Should he even be eating these crackers? What is safe? What isn’t?
“Is this forever?” he manages to ask. 
He doesn’t know how to take it, if it is.
“No,” says Draxum quickly. He raises his hand and reaches toward Leo, but Leo flinches. Draxum lets it drop again. “…No, Leonardo, it is not forever,” he says, and his voice is more soft than Leo has ever heard it - more soft than he thought Draxum capable of. “The most critical time for refeeding is the first five to seven days. You are almost clear of the danger zone now. And your enhanced biology may even mean we’re already past it… though I am still being cautious.”
Leo lets out a breath. So it’s not forever - it may even be over. It doesn’t calm the racing of his heart (at least he knows it hasn’t stopped, ha ha), but it does make him feel like he can pick up the cracker again.
“Then what happens once we’re past it?”
“That is what this is for.” Draxum lifts the whiteboard again, perching it on his knees. “Even once you’re out of danger of refeeding syndrome, we’ll still need to build your daily food intake up gradually, until you can eat like you once did. These,” he taps the board with the marker, “are my calorie goals for each meal and snack. As you can see, every day it goes up.”
Leo looks over the counts. They don’t really mean anything to him, but he can at least see how the number increases across the seven days on the board. “How many calories is normal?”
“Based on calculations I have done, going off what I have seen you boys eat as well as my own estimates for your growth, you and Donatello eat roughly five thousand calories a day, sometimes going as high as six thousand when you are particularly active.” Draxum scribbles the number in the corner of the whiteboard. “It’s high compared to humans, but within perfectly healthy limits given your mutant biology and high metabolism. Raphael eats more, and Michelangelo eats a bit less, though not by much.”
“Yeah,” Leo gives a chuckle, “kid can put away a whole large pizza by himself when his blood sugar’s low.”
“Unfortunately, I have seen him do it.” Draxum sighs. “But right now, you are averaging much less.” He taps the numbers. “Our goal right now is to get to where you are eating around twenty two hundred calories a day steadily, without getting sick.”
Leo has never been the math guy, but even he can handle some simple division. “Less than half? Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. That is why ensuring that your meals are as nutritious as possible is important.” He nods at the pill organizer. “And why the vitamins are important.”
Less than half as much as he used to eat… It leaves Leo feeling a little dizzy again. Nine days without food wrecked his system this hard?
“Don’t panic,” says Draxum in that soft voice again, and Leo feels a little resentment for how it pulls him out of his ensuing spiral. “You can see that your counts are going up steadily, and as we reintroduce solid food it will get even easier. And this is not hard and fast. Going a little above this is not an issue. And I am constantly readjusting as we go. It will take time before you are… putting away entire pizzas.” Draxum scrunches up his face in distaste. “But in a few weeks, you will be eating a much more normal diet than you are now.”
Leo rubs his hand up and down his arm. “Normal like, I can eat potato chips without getting yelled at?”
Draxum sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you to begin with.”
“Yeah, well…” Leo fishes his last cracker out of the bag and rubs it between his fingers. “I gave you a black eye, so I think we’re even.”
“Hmph.” Draxum almost sounds amused, though he doesn’t let his lips quirk up even a tiny bit. Leo thinks he might be allergic to smiles, unless he’s doing something evil. “Still, I hope you understand the situation now.”
“Yeah, I guess.” Leo takes a small bite of the last cracker. Takes his time chewing and swallowing it. “The main thing is you’re going to keep being a pain in the butt for the next few weeks, right?”
“Yes, you’re stuck with me.” Draxum watches him take another bite of cracker, then says, “There’s something else you need to understand, Leonardo. The goal of this,” he taps the whiteboard, “is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”
Leo stares at the board, and the calorie counts, all laid out neatly. “Sure,” he says, and he doesn’t feel it.
Draxum hesitates, then taps each row, reading off, “Breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack. Smaller amounts of food more frequently, to keep your stomach full without overstuffing.”
“Makes sense, I guess.”
“And this can be moved around. If you eat breakfast earlier than normal, you can have a snack in the morning instead. But you tend to sleep in, which is why I structured it this way.”
“Nine’s not sleeping in,” Leo grumbles.
“Nine is- no, this is not the point.” Draxum gives his head a shake. “The point is, if you want to move your eating times around, we can. The goal of this is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”
“I heard you the first time.”
“No, I’m not sure you did.” Draxum again uncaps the marker, then writes across the top of the board five simple words:
If you are hungry: eat.
Leo stares at those words. It feels like a trap, a trick - Draxum’s being all nice right now, but the way he ripped the bag from Leo’s hands…
“I was hungry when I ate the chips,” he says, and it’s a little bit of a lie, but that’s not the point. He watches Draxum carefully, for any sign that this is all fake, and Draxum really does want him to suffer.
Draxum’s brows furrow. “You are not in trouble for eating,” he says. “You’ll never be in trouble for eating. It is just good for you right now to eat healthy things. 
“I know it isn’t fair,” he adds, voice blunt, “but life rarely is.”
Leo studies his face. And the amazing thing is, he doesn’t think Draxum is lying.
“So… if I want a late night snack, I can eat some crackers?” he asks, waving the empty baggie.
“Yes. Or a banana, or some yogurt… If you feel very hungry, you could even eat some egg, or leftover soup.”
“And you’re fine with me just eating… whenever?”
“If you are so hungry you need to eat an extra meal, I just ask that you let me know, so I can adjust.” He taps the board. “But yes, I am. You know the stakes now. I trust you.”
Trust. Leo’s never had much of that from anyone. He looks down at the empty bag and wonders if it’s really true.
“…Is there anything you need right now?” Leo lifts his eyes back to Draxum’s face. “I can get it for you.”
Leo thinks about it. “When did you say lunch is?”
“About an hour and twenty minutes, now.”
“Then… I’m fine.” Leo pushes himself further back on his bed, dropping his trash into the space between them.
“Hm. I will bring you some more juice to drink.” Draxum nods at the pill organizer. “You still need to take those.”
Leo shoos him off. “I will, sheesh.” Now that he knows how important it is.
Draxum rolls his eyes and gets up. He takes the trash, but leaves the white board propped against the wall at the foot of Leo’s bed.
He’s almost to the door when Leo clears his throat and says, “Hey Barry?”
Draxum pauses, hand grasping the curtain. “Yes?”
“Any chance we can skip telling my dad and brothers about… everything?”
Draxum looks back at him. “Trust me when I say that I would like to omit this as much as you… But I am going to have to tell your father, at least.”
Leo groans, letting his head fall back on his pillows. “This sucks.”
“Then I will try to think of ways to make it suck less.” Draxum pulls the curtain aside. “Rest, Leonardo. I’ll bring your juice.”
Then he’s gone, leaving Leo alone.
-----
Raph puts the groceries down in the kitchen, then looks toward the escalator leading down. He should stay and help put everything away, but all he wants to do right now is rush to Leo’s side.
“Go,” says Splinter beside him. “I can take care of this.”
That’s all the permission Raph needs; he takes the escalator steps two at a time and crashes down onto the lower level.
Draxum is there, standing outside Leo’s train car and looking at one of his notebooks again. When he hears Raph, he closes it and looks up.
Raph’s eyes catch on the bruise forming on Draxum’s cheek and eye - it’s just starting to darken, but Raph can tell it’s going to be a plum shade of purple by the end of the day.
“He told me it wasn’t physical,” says Raph immediately. A little dangerously.
“It wasn’t, on my end,” says Draxum.
Raph finds that he believes that, and he can’t help the way his lips quirk up at the news.
Draxum scowls. “Yes, yes, very funny.”
Raph claps him on the shoulder. “Come on, Barry. You know you deserved it.”
“We can debate that later,” says Draxum, dry. He nods at the train car. “He’s in his room.”
“Raph figured.” He locks eyes on the room, wishing he could see past the curtains to know Leo’s state. “When you guys were fighting, he… called for us again.”
Draxum’s expression turns more concerned - nearly imperceptibly so, but Raph knows him well enough by now to see it. “Yes, I know.”
“You felt it?”
“No.” Draxum pulls away. “I have things to discuss with Lou Jitsu. Is he in the kitchen?”
“Yeah.” Raph wants to know what Draxum saw, but he always wants to get to Leo as fast as possible. In the end, the draw to his brother is stronger, and he steps forward. “Help him put the groceries up.”
“If I must,” says Draxum, and then he walks away toward the escalator. Raph doesn’t hang around to watch, instead hurrying to Leo’s room.
The room is a mess, even more than normally. His action figures are scattered everywhere, comic books have been knocked from the shelves, his blankets are on the floor. Leo himself is in bed, vacant expression staring at nothing Raph can see, and it’s an eerie way to see his little brother, usually never without his phone or a comic book in his quiet moments. 
He clears his throat, and Leo’s eyes flick his way. “Hey, Leo.”
“Hey.” Leo rouses himself to alertness, like he’d been sleeping with his eyes open. He shifts on his pillows so he can better see Raph. “You guys got the groceries?”
“Yeah, we did,” he assures Leo. He walks in, standing over Leo’s bed. He’d been so anxious to get back here, but now he finds himself trapped in the same place as always, unsure what to say or do.
Leo stares up at him. “…Everything okay, hermano?”
“I came to ask you that.” Raph sits down on the edge of the bed, then startles when something hard falls against his arm. He looks and finds a whiteboard, with numbers that make no sense to him written in neat columns (not Leo’s handwriting), and, across the top:
If you are hungry: eat.
Raph can’t help but stare at those words a few seconds longer. Is this something Leo needed to be told?
Beside him, Leo is saying, “Me and Drax got in a fight, but we worked it out. It’s fine.”
“Yeah.” Raph grins, tearing his eyes away from the whiteboard to look at Leo. “I saw the shiner you gave him.”
He’s expecting a grin back; for Leo’s expression to turn mischievous, or cocky. For Leo to proudly take credit for punching Draxum right in the eye.
He’s not expecting Leo to flinch and look away. “I thought he was better at dodging than that,” he says.
Raph falters, not sure how to respond. He knows Leo; his little brother would never hit anyone for no reason, even someone like Baron Draxum. Leo might playfight, Leo might even throw things at them from time to time, but he never aimed to hurt, only to irritate. 
Once again, Raph doesn’t know the right way to approach this situation. Should he try to talk to Leo about this? Is he the right person to try? Would Leo even want to hear it from Raph, who so often struggles with his own anger responses?
(He thinks about the fight again, and feels a rush of shame.)
He’s still trying to work it out when Leo changes the subject.
“Why didn’t you tell him?” Leo picks at some fuzz on his sheets. “About the chips.”
That’s something else Raph has been trying to figure out. But now, for this question at least, he has an answer.
“They didn’t have anyone’s name on ‘em.”
Leo’s fingers pause. “But you know I’m not supposed to eat those.”
“Yeah, well… I still wasn’t gonna tell. Raph’s not a snitch.” He shrugs. “Look, I know Barry’s right and you gotta be careful about what you eat so you don’t get sick. But this is still your house, Leo. We agreed a long time ago that unless food has someone’s name on it, it’s fair game.”
Leo actually smiles just a little at that, and Raph feels his heart leap at the sight. It’s not quite a full, big Leo smile, but it’s something. “And sometimes the name doesn’t stop us.”
Raph laughs. “That’s just because I got three little brothers who are a pain in the shell.” He reaches out to rub Leo’s head, and is a little surprised and a lot pleased when Leo doesn’t duck it. 
(It wraps around to concern again, when Leo seems to chase the touch like he’ll drown without it.)
“Listen,” he says, “Draxum gives you any more trouble and you just come tell me, okay? I’ll deal with it. We’ll get it worked out.” He moves his hand down to scratch the ridge of Leo’s shell, right where he can’t easily reach himself. “Raph’s got your back.”
Leo goes tense under his fingers, and Raph thinks he’s said something wrong. But the soft little, “Oh,” Leo says after isn’t upset. It’s just… surprised.
But why would he be surprised by that?
But when Raph thinks about it… when’s the last time he told Leo that? When’s the last time he felt like Leo had his back, too?
Somewhere along the way, he and Leo lost what made them them. Best friends, friendly rivals, brothers through thick and thin. It all got swallowed up by their fights and disagreements. And then Leo was taken from him.
But Leo isn’t gone. Leo is right here.
And suddenly Raph doesn’t know how he’s made it this long without hugging his little brother. He should have already. That should have been the first thing.
He moves the hand that’s scratching Leo’s shell to more firmly grab his back, watching close to see Leo’s reaction. Leo’s eyes flutter closed, like he feels totally safe, and Raph doesn’t waste the trust that’s been given to him.
He lifts Leo up and pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around in the safest bear hug he can give. Leo melts into it, his head leaning against Raph’s plastron, his arm coming up to loosely hook itself around Raph’s neck. 
“I gotcha, Leo,” he promises, cradling him close. “I gotcha.”
“I know,” says Leo, but Raph wonders if he really does. Raph hasn’t done a great job of showing it.
He still doesn’t know his answer. He still feels a stab in his heart when he thinks of Leo saying he did what a hero would. But April was right. Leo doesn’t need big emotional confrontations right now. He needs his big brother.
And Raph can do that. It’s the thing he’s best at.
“Hey,” he says, “wanna come watch Jupiter Jim: Venture to Venus with me?”
Leo opens his eyes to squint up at him. “Dee’ll hate it if he misses the sing-along parts,” he says, but now, finally, a little bit of his mischievousness is back.
Raph grins. “What Donnie doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
Leo laughs then, small and tired and hoarse but there. Raph gives him another squeeze, then stands up and takes Leo with him.
He’s still unsettlingly light, like he was when Raph lifted him from the cot. But there’s a little more of him back.
If they get a little more of him every day, eventually, his little brother will truly be home.
-----
Leo stays in his lap for the movie. He makes no attempt to leave and Raph makes no attempt to remove him.
Splinter brings them lunch around the halfway mark: the alphabet soup they bought at the store for Leo, with bread and more banana for after. Leo complains that he’s not a little kid, but out of the corner of his eye Raph catches him industriously fishing around for the letters L, E, and O. He gets a little, self-satisfied smile on his face at his accomplishment, and Raph has to force his eyes to focus on the screen before he squishes Leo like one of his teddy bears.
After lunch, Leo dozes off. It’s not a surprise, especially given how eventful the morning was. Raph’s just glad it’s actual sleep and not that scary, blank-eyed stare he saw Leo with earlier.
Raph stays there after his arms fall asleep, after the movie ends, after he hears Donnie and Mikey come home (together, at least). He’d stay there all night, but Splinter comes in and puts a hand on his arm. He’s carrying a plate with a snack for Leo.
“Draxum wants to talk to you and Purple and Orange.”
Raph looks at Leo, still curled up against him, and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna leave him.”
“It’s alright. I will be here with him.” Splinter pats his arm again. “Take a break and stretch. You can sit with him after you’re done.”
Reluctantly, Raph gets up. He shifts Leo to the chair as carefully as he can (Leo murmurs in his sleep but doesn’t wake), then looks back at Splinter.
“You’ll be here when he wakes up, right?” he asks again.
(Maybe he’s still a little mad.)
“Yes,” Splinter promises. “I’ll be here.”
So Raph leaves. He shakes out his arms and legs, stiff from holding Leo, then swings by the bathroom before making his way to the kitchen. He can hear Mikey there already.
“-tell us what happened,” Mikey is saying, standing with his arms crossed and face angry. This is the most frustrated Raph can remember seeing Mikey act toward Draxum. Beside him, Donnie looks equally agitated.
“I have told your father what happened,” says Draxum, looking much more calm by comparison, “and we have agreed to maintain Leonardo’s privacy for now.”
“Is it about Leo’s privacy or do you think we just don’t deserve to know?” Mikey snaps. Raph knows that tone, and he knows this is about to turn into a fight.
He steps into the middle before it can. “Hold up, Mikey. Let’s hear him out.” His little brother does not seem happy with that, and he opens his mouth to argue, but before he can Raph refocuses on Draxum. “Tell us what’s goin’ on, Barry.”
Draxum’s eyes move slowly between all three of them before landing on Raph. “As I was telling your brothers, Lou Jitsu and I have agreed not to tell you all the details of what happened earlier, primarily because we are not sure how much Leonardo himself is comfortable with you knowing.”
It stings, but Raph knows he’s right. It’s like the security tapes Donnie chose not to watch. They have to let Leo decide how much they know and how much they don’t.
Still, Raph has his concerns. He folds his arms, mimicking his brothers behind him, and stares Draxum down. “Alright,” he says, and ignores the indignant noise Mikey makes behind him, “but did you tell Pops everything?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Yes,” Draxum repeats. “He needs to know, so we know how to care for Leonardo going forward.”
Raph isn’t as good at reading people as Leo, but it’s not like Draxum is an enigma, either. He doesn’t think the old goat is lying, so Raph relaxes his posture.
“Okay,” he says. “As long as Dad knows.”
“He did something so bad Leo punched him!” Mikey argues. “Leo doesn’t just do that!”
“In his defense,” says Donnie, “Draxum’s face is very punchable.”
Raph snorts at the indignant look Draxum gives that remark.
“Honestly,” says Draxum with a sigh, “all four of you boys are the same… But I can tell you that much.” He looks down, not meeting their eyes now. “I took food from your brother’s hands, before I realized what an error that is.”
All of them stiffen. Behind him, Raph senses Donnie shifting his weight in agitation. 
“You took food from him!?” cries Mikey. He sounds so betrayed. “Why!?”
“I was worried about him making himself sick,” Draxum explains. “But I did not handle it well. I have already apologized to him.”
“You better have!” Ah, there’s Doctor Delicate Touch.
“I have,” Draxum repeats. “And we have reached an understanding… which is what I need to talk to the three of you about.” He looks at them now. “There are going to be some new rules around here, at least for the duration of Leonardo’s recovery.”
“What rules?” asks Raph. “Besides don’t yank food out of Leo’s hands?”
“Well, that is an important one.” Draxum nods. “But we have also decided to adhere to a more strict meal schedule than you do normally. If meals are coming at regular, predictable times, we think this will reduce a lot of stress for Leonardo.”
Raph thinks of the words on the whiteboard. Of the neat rows of numbers. Does Leo wonder when he’ll be fed next? Does it scare him, not knowing?
Doesn’t he know his family would never let him go hungry?
“It makes sense,” says Donnie behind him. “We usually eat whenever we feel like it, but if Leo has to be careful with his diet, having a routine will make it easier.”
If Donnie thinks so, it’s probably right. Raph nods. “Yeah, sure. Whatever we gotta do to help Leo.”
Draxum nods back. “Right now, we’re planning for breakfast at eight, or whenever he wakes up, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. Leo will get regular snacks as well; smaller, more frequent meals are better for him right now than three large ones. Of course, the three of you can still do what you feel like; if you want your own snack, or want to eat later, you can.”
“Let’s all try to eat with Leo,” says Raph, looking back at his brothers. Donnie nods immediately; Mikey hesitates.
“Will Leo be in trouble,” he asks, “if he eats snacks when you didn’t tell him to?”
“No,” says Draxum. “I have already told him this. If he’s hungry, he can eat; he doesn’t need anyone to tell him he can.”
Raph’s glad to hear that; he knows he wouldn’t have been able to play food police. Mikey seems to calm down at this reassurance, too, and he nods.
“Okay. Then, we’re starting tonight? Dinner at six?”
“Yes.” Draxum seems relieved, that Mikey doesn’t look so angry anymore. “You can help me, if you want.”
“Duh,” says Mikey, and Draxum cringes. “I’ll be here!”
He and Donnie leave then; Donnie says he’s going to finish Leo’s curtains, and Mikey goes to his room. Raph hangs back, watching Draxum.
“You sure you didn’t touch him?” he asks, once he’s sure his brothers are out of earshot.
Draxum looks at him, open, not hiding. “I did not. I acted rashly, but I would not lay a hand on him.”
“…Okay. I believe you.” Raph folds his arms. “But if Leo ever tells me anything different, you know what happens next, right?”
“I do. But I would not hurt him.” Draxum looks nonchalant, despite the conversation. “Despite my best efforts, I’ve grown fond of all of you. I’m here to help him.”
Raph can’t help but smile at that. It’s probably as close as Barry will ever get to being affectionate.
“Thanks, then. For all you’re doin’.” Raph turns to leave. “But don’t yank food out of his hands again.”
“I won’t. You have my word.”
Raph decides to take it.
-----
“Blue…? Are you awake?”
Leo blinks his eyes open to find Splinter peering down at him, a plate in his hand. Blearily, he sits up in the recliner. It takes him a moment to realize he’s by himself now - Raph has gone.
It makes him feel a little sad. He knows Raph still has something he wants to yell about, but there for a short while, it was really nice to just be his little brother.
Now his dad is here, with food. Leo remembers the chart Draxum gave him - breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack - and feels his heart relax.
“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m awake.”
“Very good. I have brought you some more yogurt and fruit.”
“Yippee,” says Leo, tone flat. “I’m gonna be the most regular guy on the planet after this.”
Splinter laughs at that, and it makes Leo feel a little sense of triumph. “Cherish it while you’re young.”
“Ew, gross,” he says, and Splinter laughs again.
Leo eats his snack. The projector skips on the screen, still on but with nothing set to play. Splinter settles in on the arm of the chair and waits until Leo’s almost done.
Then he says, “Draxum told me what happened earlier.”
Leo goes stiff. He swallows his bite of banana around the knot in his throat. 
“Yeah, he… said he was going to tell you.”
“I’m sorry that he was so harsh with you. You are not in trouble for taking the chips. The food in this lair is as much yours as it is any of ours.”
“I know,” says Leo, even though he’s not sure of anything anymore. But it’s what Splinter wants to hear.
“I won’t be leaving you alone with him again.” Splinter pats his arm. “He may be reformed, but he is still stupid, and not at all fit to take care of children!”
“Which is what makes him perfect for a public school lunchroom,” says Leo, and grins when it gets another laugh out of his dad.
Leo finishes his snack. The projector is still skipping. It makes a little clicking noise every few seconds.
“...Leonardo,” says Splinter, and Leo tenses up again.
“Oh no, full name…”
“You are not in trouble,” says Splinter again. Leo wonders why he keeps saying that. “But I have to ask you this again. When you were… with the EPF. Did anyone touch you in any way?”
Leo stares at him. Why are they having this conversation again?
“No. I told you that, remember?”
“I remember. But I have to make sure.” Splinter puts his hand on Leo’s. Leo stares at it. “Did anyone… make you do something you didn’t want to do?”
“Uh… besides stay there?”
“Leonardo.” Splinter’s tone is not angry, but Leo still winces. “I understand that this is uncomfortable to talk about. But I need to know for your safety. Did any of them do anything to you? Or make you do something to them? To yourself?”
Leo stares at his dad’s hand. He thinks of getting down on his knees and begging.
“...No.” He gives his head a shake. “They didn’t even hit me or anything.” And it’s the truth.
They didn’t really do anything to him at all.
“...Alright.” Splinter leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. Leo keeps his eyes on their hands and listens to the skip of the projector. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He hands the empty plate over and sinks further into the recliner cushions. He wishes the conversation hadn’t curdled the snack in his guts. “Uh, can we… turn on something so the projector isn’t making that sound?”
“Oh, yes!” Splinter sets the plate aside, then grabs for the remote. “It is aaalmost time for Scorpion Treadmill!”
Leo snorts despite himself. “Sure, sounds great.”
Splinter finds the channel and settles into the chair next to Leo. Leo closes his eyes and listens to the Japanese he can barely understand and his dad’s laughter, and tries to ignore the way his own skin feels slimy.
-----
After dinner, and after his snack, Donnie shows him the new curtains.
The new rods are just as makeshift as the ones from the day before, with the same color and the same details. Leo loves them. He tells Donnie so, and Donnie grins big and happy, and Leo feels happy, too, that he can still make at least one brother look like that.
“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” says Donnie, for what must be the fifth time. “But seriously, if you want me to add some smart tech to them, just say the word.”
“Thanks but no thanks, Dee. I don’t want my curtains to gain sentience on me.”
Donnie pouts, but it’s good natured. He comes over and sits on the bed next to Leo, the two of them looking around his room. It’s crazy to Leo, how different it looks now. Though, maybe the mess is contributing to that feeling…
“It’s so dark in here now,” Donnie observes. His tone is totally neutral in a way Donnie could never hope to fake, so Leo doesn’t take it as a judgment.
Which is good, because Leo doesn’t know how to explain that he likes it that way. That the dark makes him feel calm and safe. Hidden.
“I could always add more lighting,” he says instead. He has his lanterns and a desk lamp, but he has to admit, some things will be harder without the ambient lights from outside.
“Oh, I can do that next!” says Donnie. “What kind of lighting do you want? I can see what I have in the lab-”
“Whoa, hey,” says Leo quickly. He reaches over and flicks Donnie on his big forehead. (It lacks any force, because Leo is still weak, but Donnie says, “Ow!” exaggeratedly anyway.) “I get that you’re trying to help, but you’ve done enough. I know you must have some battleshell or robot or nuclear bomb you’re dying to work on instead.”
Donnie falters at that. He eyes Leo, the same way everyone does lately, like he’s some kind of timebomb that might go off.
“I just want you to be comfortable,” he says.
“What do you mean? I’m super comfy!” Leo waves the sleeve of his hoodie in demonstration. “It’s the lair, Don-ton. Same as always.”
Donnie’s expression goes even flatter. He turns his eyes on the train car walls. “Same as always? It hasn’t even been a year.”
Leo flinches. Right, well… So it’s not the same as ever. But it’s the same as the one he was stolen from, and that’s all that matters, right?
“You know what I mean.” He bumps their shoulders together. “It’s home. It’s where you guys are. I’m totally fine.”
And he means that.
He means it, he means it, he means it.
“...Right.” Donnie is trying to sound like he believes Leo. “Well, if you change your mind about the lighting, you know where to find me.”
“I sure do, hermano.” He bumps their shoulders again. “Thanks, though.”
They sit for a moment in silence. Leo wonders if he should offer a late night movie session, or if he should send Donnie on his way. He’s torn. He doesn’t really want to be alone. But he doesn’t want to bother Donnie more than he already has.
Before he can decide, Donnie’s phone dings. He picks it up and clicks something on his screen.
“What’s up?” asks Leo.
“Oh nothing.” Donnie waves a hand. “Draxum just finally decided to leave. About time…”
“Huh? How do you… know…”
Leo leans over on his shoulder to look, and answers his own question.
Cameras. Of course Donnie has cameras. This one is outside the entrance to the lair from the sewers, and Leo can see Draxum’s retreating back as he heads for the nearest manhole.
“The camera alerts me whenever anyone other than one of the five of us leaves,” Donnie is saying. “It’s part of the security upgrades I’ve been working on.”
“Security upgrades,” Leo repeats, feeling a little faint.
Donnie doesn’t notice, jumping on the chance to infodump. “Yes! I’ve added more cameras, and proximity alarms, and I’ve been working on more upgrades to our trackers, like I told you. Oh, and new security measures for my baby, of course. And once Shelldon’s new body is complete, I’ll integrate him with the system as well, and…”
Donnie’s still talking, but Leo can’t hear it. His eyes are tracking all around his train car - the dark corners, the shelves, the nooks and crannies.
Donnie has cameras all over the lair.
Where are the cameras in here?
-----
For another night in a row, Leo doesn’t sleep.
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wynnyfryd · 3 months ago
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reblog with the steddie fanfic you’ve re-read the most
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irenespring · 5 months ago
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Really I think nothing shouts "my first Presidential election as a politically active person was 2016" more than the fact that when I feel hope and excitement for the future (possible President Harris) for more than five minutes I immediately get a crushing, all-consuming anxiety of "feeling this positive emotion now is going to make it so much worse when the worst thing possible happens" to the extent that I'll probably need my break-glass-in-case-of-emergency anxiety medication.
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art-the-f-up · 4 months ago
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"Felonies and Other Love Languages" by @miabrown007
aka "how many stars can we incorporate into the entire vibe of this heist au fic"
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phantomsies · 3 months ago
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grown woman • r. sukuna
📝: modern au, black fem!reader (she’s in her 30’s), alcohol use, missionary, oral sex (f. receiving), choking, cumshot, subby-ish sukuna, spit play
wc: 2.2K
📃: I’m still struggling to get back used to tumblr so I’m gonna be a lil slow posting. It’ll also be on patreon as well and hopefully, it doesn’t get flagged!
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a subtle touch, a gentle kiss..a slight nudge of the nose to the neck. It was all of the small movements that made him tick. Even the slightest bit of movement sent his heart into a fit of flutters. Honestly, it wasn’t anything to be ashamed of either..for he was simply a man in love. Unapologetically and unconditionally. Some would even credit you solely for his change in demeanor…from a slick, smooth talking womanizer who couldn’t even spell love. To the shameless romantic with enough passion to fuel the entire planet. Hell, if you let him tell it, the world didn’t even start spinning and the sun never shined until you came around. In essence, you changed his life!..and quite frankly, his image as well.
Ryomen Sukuna was known for many things throughout his life but being a monotonous, adoring homebody was not one of them! No longer were the days of club hopping and late night hookups…wandering home with whatever girl piqued his interest for the night and taking out all of his unbridled sexual frustration on her. In an even more callous move, she was out before the sun even rose and her name was irrelevant. He’d come to work with the same charming, fun disposition as if he hadn’t ruined another girl’s perception of love and healthy relationships. It was all a part of the game as far as he was concerned. So naturally, when you entered his life over a year and a half ago..never would this man have imagined that he’d be standing in the kitchen of a shared condo; towel draped over his bare shoulder as he stirred a pot of homemade sauce to serve with the dinner he’d prepared for you. Domesticated like an animal that had once roamed the streets mindlessly..now, spending his Saturday nights drinking wine with R&B reverberating through the speakers of a mounted flat screen. It was the after effects of dealing with a grown woman, after all. Firm in what you wanted, even more steadfast in what you wouldn’t tolerate and what he could do if the rules didn’t suit his fancy. However, him walking out of the door was the least of your worries now. Especially when you had him reeled in so closely.
“Mmmph..damn.”
the gesture catching his attention as you sat adjacent to him on the couch. Long, slender brown legs crossed as you nursed your own glass of Sauvignon. It was your third one of the evening and it was certainly taking its toll. So much so, your appetite had completely shifted from what was being prepared…
“Don’t worry. The food’s almost done..just finishing up a few things.”
to the one who had so graciously concocted the meal! Make no mistake, Ryo’s cooking was nothing short of a divine dining experience. But the carbonara wasn’t the only thing you were in the mood to slurp on! See, he could appreciate your honesty for the things you desired. How you weren’t shy or bashful about your needs. So long had he been the one controlling the narrative..making the decisions and sadly, trampling all over the women in his life because they made it easy to do so. But you weren’t any of them and that fact was reinstilled each time you two were alone. (Y/N) had finally grown tiresome of quelling your urges and set the cogs in motion so that this evening could truly end the way you both hoped for. You’d been hiding your time, watching him move around from the stove to the fridge, bringing you tiny samples in between and even halting momentarily to steal an influx of kisses. He’d been fantasizing about spreading you out on that table but with growth came reservation and he always waited for you to initiate things now. Twirling him around and moving him as if he were your puppet and like the helpless lover boy he’d transformed into, Ryo followed!
“Actually…why don’t you turn that off? I’ve got something better..” Instead of preparing plates, he was summoned by the wave of a finger..decorated with French tips and the sight of your fur lined robe slightly ajar from you pulling it open. “Oh, is that right? So watching me sweat over that stove was just for your amusement then, huh?” You immediately sensed the sarcasm in that deep voice of his and that toothy, foolish grin on his face gave away any hint of annoyance. As he drew closer, your legs spread further apart and you’d welcome him in between with no hesitation. Cackling as your lips connected into sloppy tongue kisses and those nimble hands cupped his face. Those large tattooed hands wasting no time in groping you subtly as they roamed your exposed skin.
“More like for my pleasure. Now shut up and come eat this pussy..”
his sharp eyes would cut at you, followed by a chuckle as that frame towered over you. Both of his hands and arms resting by your side like two giant pillars.
“And since when did you start telling me what the fuck to do? You know I don’t take orders from anyone.” But if Ryomen knew one fact..it was that you weren’t these other little girls he was used to fooling around with! You’d put him in his place and he’d stay there if he knew what was good for him. Quiet as it was kept, he loved the shit! Something about being bossed around by a woman who was a fraction of his size made him illicit feelings he shouldn’t have. Sitting cross armed with seemingly not a care in the world, (y/n) raised your leg..only to place it atop his shoulder blade and pressed down until that six foot five frame sank to its knees.
“Yet here you are…doing..exactly what the fuck I told you.” Honestly, that snarky tone would’ve gotten anyone else slung across the room. But not you..he graciously accepted those demands and got to work. The tension was mounting and veins began to protrude from his forehead. Without a single moment of haste, Ryo aggressively tugged your panties to the left side and out of his way..allowing him to delve into your center. Leaving sloppy, full licks all over your wet folds, suckling roughly on your clit and clawing his fingers into your thighs in the event you tried to scoot away from him. It didn’t take long before a trail of saliva and delicious cream began to trickle down to your most sensitive areas.
“Ugh!—fuck..yeah, good boy. You know what I need.”
your words seemed to have elicited a response out of him; a half verbal one that caused him to loudly grunt and follow it with a hard slap to your thigh. Eventually, your legs began to tremble and the sensation reverberated throughout your entire body. “You better be lucky you taste so goddamn good..I shouldn’t give you shit.” “Mmmhm. I hear you…”
Meanwhile, your digits scoured his hair..guiding his head along. Your legs were resting idly on Ryo’s shoulder and still rattling when you’d feel your throat constrict. Those large hands coiled around your neck and he’d squeeze lightly just to add to your mounting pleasure. Those calculated movements would only continue to grow increasingly more aggressive and euphoric. By the time he came up for a semblance of air, you’d coated your boyfriend’s face in a veil of sticky warmth. (Y/N) clawed at his forearm, but to no avail. He’d finally gotten you within his clutches..just as that orgasm drew near. Just as your entrance began to contract around his middle and index fingers whilst they worked inside of you. And just as you were about to release, he’d rise to his feet and hover over you. Burrowing his knees into the couch cushion and positioning himself between those parted legs. With a deviant scowl on his face and in one fell swoop, Ryo tugged at the elastic waistband of his Nike sweats; bringing them to the floor and his stiff cock from their confines. It was seeping..the tip puddling with precum and aching to be nestled balls deep inside of you.
“Look at you..about to pass out. How cute.”
“But I’m not. So fuck me until I do..”
however, rather than being greeted with frail whimpers and pleas for mercy, (y/n) returned that smile with your tongue dangling from your mouth and commands to do his worst! ”You got a lot of fucking mouth, y’know that? Talk that shit with this dick inside of you. I’d love to hear that.”
Those freshly shaven lips were tapped with that pulsating cock head before it found its way between those silky walls.. and quite possibly his kryptonite!..only fitting about three solid inches before he’d begin to buckle. Frustration truly began to set in when he realized your reaction didn’t mirror his own and instead of being met with the sight of hands pawing at his abs, those acrylics rested on your clit and began to trace circles. Your tits sitting upright as you peered down to see how far he’d got in.
“And you really think that’s enough to shut me up? C’mon, baby. You can do better than that.”
it was always him..always him talking and guiding his sexual partners through the sessions. It was always him who was vocal and demanding the next move..but you’d once again flipped all those notions onto their heads! Tightening that force against your throat, Ryo sought to prove himself. Starting out with only a couple slow strokes before drilling into you full fledge. Loud smacking noises from colliding flesh filled the room and with that hulking frame towering over you, he’d try his best to get you to break! Feeding you long, deep and impactful thrusts..interchanging fingers from your throat to your mouth and even pressing into your stomach to feel his own imprint.
Anything to garner dominance..but it was you with the upper hand. Even with that deranged simper stretching from ear to ear, (y/n) still egged him on. Despite tears trickling down your face and that fresh silk press becoming disheveled. Your toes curled midair as they remained on his chiseled pecs..limbs flailing about and your screams added to the chorus of chaotic noises. Your juices began to puddle and a sheath of white leaked from that tight hole. In that moment, he’d glance up to see only the whites of your eyes and thought it was a golden opportunity.
“Yeah..I knew it. Knew you couldn’t handle—“ “Yes, baby! Give it to me..make this pussy come!..make me nut on that fucking dick..” But condition aside, you’d laugh and become joyous at the sight of his roughness. Opening your jaws graciously for slaps and trails of spit. Taking every inch as if it were nothing…even when you’d begin to squirt and dampen those abs. He’d expected you to cower down and eventually tap out, like all the others before you. That he would be the top dog at the end of this little rendezvous. But when he felt that pulsation of his own climax nearing, Ryomen began to panic. Doubling down on his hard strokes, his pace and movements becoming erratic and the onset fear that he’d be coming in a shorter duration than he ever had!..it was too much..and yet again, in another move for control, (y/n) made the final call.
“Pull out..I want it on my face..” too spent and quite frankly, too enamored to fight back, the all mighty Ryomen Sukuna..notorious playboy turned pathetic fuck toy..retracted and allowed you to do as you wished. Leaning up, you’d wrap those nimble hands around his shaft and make jerking motions until that warm splatter of cum rain down on your mouth, tits and pretty features. “G’ahh! F-fuck..I’m coming!—“ “I know, baby. I know..give it all to me. Let me drain you..”
All with a toothy grin and that maniacal cackle as you licked up the remnants. But not before ushering him in for another kiss.
“Thank you, daddy..just what I needed. See, you can follow directions.”
It was at that exact moment that the epiphany crossed his mind. And all Ryo could do was burst into laughter. No more were his days of mindless control and having his way..he was a changed man. Who was fucking with a grown woman!
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