#ill be over here making more edits
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ickyguts · 7 months ago
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couple ah sillies for the soul
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cheriwritesig · 2 months ago
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he is multitalented, cool like that
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gay guy who doesn't know how last names work and is new to formula racing: that man is NOT a bear
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gifti3 · 6 months ago
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guess who's back, guess who's back? me and i brought more arranged marriage AU writing. the last post was this one.
this post is shorter and features Asmo and Luci this time. Cause i needed to get some complaining Asmo in here. Anyways thanks for reading, hope you like it :] (and happy early birthday to Asmo!!! 🎂🎉 sorry for putting u in situations lmao)
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"Asmodeus stop hanging off me."
Lucifer tries to pull his brother off, but he doesn't budge. Asmodeus who was currently kneeling next to his study chair, continue to hold on to his arm with surprising strength.
"But you have to help me! Pleaseeeee!"
Lucifer lets out a deep sigh, continuing his work and looking through documents as if Asmodeus isn't there. "I already told you, Father's word was final."
"But-But there has to be a way to talk him out of this! And you're the only one he might listen to!"
"Trust me, the one suggestion I made was completely rejected. He's completely resolute about this marriage."
"Then make another suggestion!"
"Can you at least meet MC first before you throw a tantrum like a child? From what we've seen they're polite and mostly keep to themselves. So getting along with them should be easy for you as long as you don't do anything foolish."
"Hmmm…they sound kinda boring."
Lucifer pinches the bridge of his nose. He could feel a migraine coming on. "Behave when you actual meet them Asmo."
Asmodeus huffs and finally releases his older brother and instead begins pacing in front of his desk.
"But why does it have to be me? I know I'm a catch, but last time I checked, other people in this family weren't married!"
"I already explained this. Father expects you to be more involved in the socioeconomic affairs of the family. Which you've managed to avoid for years."
"Pssh but am I the only one though?"
Lucifer doesn't even bother answering him.
Asmodeus looks off to the side. Maybe he wasn't that involved in the more "serious" aspects that kept their family on top, but at least he went to all the important social events unlike Leviathan. That must count for something.
Though the idea of Leviathan getting married was definitely something he couldn't see happening any time soon. It might overload him. Only recently did his older brother start showing his face in public consistently….and it would be nice to see Levi fall in love naturally one day. Maybe he could convince him to go out on the town with him… Baby steps, baby steps.
Mammon was already married (surprisingly). Which much to his dismay, really cut a lot into their nights out. Though he would never admit it to his face.
Lucifer and Satan could probably avoid marriage if they wanted to, considering all they do.
All that left was Beelzebub and Belphegor. Shoveling off marriage to his younger siblings didn't feel right though.
Asmodeus visibly deflated. He sighs and flops down in the chair in front of Lucifer's desk. Even though he was doing this, he already knew it was over before it even began. It didn't stop him though. In fact, he had complained to Lucifer the day before.
And the day before that.
He'd cried to Satan and even bothered Mammon, who gave him terrible marriage "advice" that he made sure to tune out.
But it wasn't like him to not be at least a little persistent and complain when things weren't going his way!
And this was something worth complaining about. Him getting married? There's certain things marriage entailed right? Wouldn't he be expected to stop with his current lifestyle? Partying and playing around? Sharing his beautiful existence with the world? It just wasn't right!
He wouldn't do it, especially for a stranger.
Asmodeus crosses his arms. "….Are you sure I can't get out of this?"
"Asmo for the love of God. Father was serious about getting in this family's good graces, and this is a sure-fire way to do so. As you said so humbly, out of everyone here you're the most practical choice. And even if one of your brothers were picked instead, who says it won't be you the next time?"
Asmodeus's frown deepens. If he wanted to continue living such a comfortable life, he couldn't really just go against Father either. Even if he was okay with giving it all up, it was too scary.
"Meet them first. Now can you go find someone else to whine to. I'm busy."
Guess that was the end if the today's discussion.
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corset · 6 months ago
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Our mental health has been in such an interestingly terrible place for the last month or so. Genuinely kind of fascinating to watch from different internal angles....like watching the ocean ebb and flow and change temperament at random sometimes based on weather or the moon or something. Like this shit is just terrible
#I can't even describe it#Like it isn't even just the basic stuff I've dealt with my whole life right#I've had some of this for well over a decade now right I've been very unwell for a long time#I'm a system so that tells you a lot already#Speaking of which that's been extremely hard on us lately too. Rapid switching and blending and worsening dissociative episodes#It makes it extremely....hard. I don't know how to put this for people reading this who don't just intuitively know what I'm talking about#Let me try though#Stress worsens the symptoms right. And we've been under a Lot of stress. When you have a system who not only experiences different levels#of emotion but also different emotional responses to certain things and then also expresses symptoms of your multiple mental illnesses to#different degrees and then on top of that your sense of time/cognition becomes nonlinear because you're blurry as hell in and out all the#time it becomes markedly more difficult to try and balance out/manage your other shit. Like I cannot even describe#It's like trying to climb a slippery incline#I feel truly. Crazy. Like a complete unstable fragmented freak lately it is So bad. And I feel like I'm becoming Worse /As A Person/ too#Like I just feel like I'm becoming so jaded and fucked up mentally our internal state right now is frankly very bad. If you think I've been#negative and difficult on this blog lately hoo boy is my posting on here not even scratching the surface#We're trying to do some things about stuff we can fix/control in our external surroundings but like#[Edit: in addition I have never been properly medicated or gotten help for Any of this since I was 14-15 and they weren't even helping us#for the right things.]
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orcelito · 1 year ago
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Ok I reaaaaally really really need to stop reading so much fanfic. I read another 30k ish fic this morning and it was SO GOOD but I keep squeezing my brain thru binge reading (bc I can never read things in moderation I guess) and it is leaving no room for writing brain
Vaguely tempted to go back over ITNL for edits tho. Especially the first chapter. Since I'm gonna need to reread it anyways to get back into it, it'd be nice if I could smooth some things out with it...
Hmmm
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librarycard · 2 years ago
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its indeed getting worse not better i should log off
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ybcpatrick · 2 years ago
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are you there god? it's me kell.......................... yeah, it's that wrestler again.
#shut up kell#this blog is turning into a confessional booth for my sins#you guys remember back when magic mike first came out and every single cishet woman over the age of 25 went cuckoo over channing tatum?#i understand now. i get them fundamentally.#the unbearable soulcrushing self-respect-obliterating crush i have on ko is the same fucking thing. AWFUL#that stupid quebecer unlocks the same sleeper agent in me that straight men have for ryan reynolds i swear to god#down beyond apocalyptic. down heat-death-of-the-universe style over him#local demisexual experiences an Exception. more at 11 /j /j /j#editing immediately actually. i got more to say#its not even that its an '''exception''' like i am firm in my demisexuality that's fine i'm cool#but he just..... man i don't know what is WRONG WITH ME i feel ILL ABT IT#he's so fine!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and for WHAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#IT'S DEBILITATING. every single stupid fucking thing he does has me smiling and stimming so hard you'd think i was preparing for takeoff#category 5 ​flappy bird moment for REAL#he's so hot. he's so fucking hot. i am flabbergasted at my own behaviour out here. positively gobsmacked.#(i say ''my behaviour'' as if it isn't just me playing minecraft and watching matches he's been in so i can max out my audhd stats)#i cannot tell if i want to look like him or make out with him or chew on him like rubber polly pocket clothes. I DONT KNOW.#i am. so sane. you guys seein how well adjusted and normal i am out here? goddamn this place is MAGNIFICENT
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falinscloaca · 7 months ago
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shoutouts to tumblr being kinda normal about homestuck for a while until that poll thing happened
#EDIT: HOLD ON MY NOTES GOT SCROMPLED AROUND#normal is defined as#QUOTATION MARKS#its kinda fucking racist without ever exactly getting better in that regard and had a likewise problematic history wi#with every other societal ill but it DID markedly improve on most of those throughout its lifespan. to deny either is fucking stupid.#its not a south park level 'persona non grata' type media to consume though its. literally it just isn't.#even baseline consumption of south park isn't technically the issue its. well its FANDOMING it you can watch a shitty show thats not.-#ok thats sidetracking things. you can read homestuck and make it your personality theres a lot more good than bad in there its just that th#bad shit really sucks and the fandomside bad shit is even fucking worse good golly jesus christ#END QUOTATION MARKS#reintroduces myself to the fandom like 'hey wow i don't respect any of you people! fuck off! heres my comic!'#don't trust a trans homestuck fan with over (arbitrary number) followers. don't trust a cis one either though. don't trust a homestuck fan.#also don't trust a fan of telling you to not trust homestuck fans they're the worst of them all they should be put to death#*beaten over the head with a hammer by a second myself*#theres some sort of parallelism between homestuck sonic and their respective fandoms in that sense. but it might only seem that way because#i know more sonic fandomside horrors and treasures than i do a lotta larger fandoms even for things i'm more active in
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seth-whumps · 6 months ago
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I MADE A WHUMP EVENT: get ready for July folks
welcome to the Whumperless Whump Event of July! for your sickfic, situational, and completely apersonal whump needs--comfort included, of course. follow @whumperless-whump-event for more information and details!
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Image transcripts, tagging rules, and guidelines under the cut!
RULES
Any and all art types allowed (GIFs, drawings, music, writing, etc.)
No AI generated content allowed
OCs and Fandom works alike are welcome :)
Trigger and content tags required, even if the prompt explicitly requires the content (eg. Vomiting still needs the emetophobia tag)
NSFT and NSFW are allowed, if tagged appropriately. This blog will not reblog them, as minors do follow it. However, you're still free to write as you please :)
If enough interest is shown, I will make an Ao3 collection (edit: ao3 collection is made and can be found here)
Side note: please let me know if there's anything I can do to make this post or event more accessible. Should I put the image transcripts on the ID too? Is the formatting causing issues? What can I do?
This is not a contest, just an event. The only awards will be announcements for people who completed the whole darn thing. My entries will not receive any announcements or awards, because I'm hosting
TAGGING
Tag with, per example: #whumperless whump event day 1; #whumperless whump event; and (optional) #whumperless whump event day 1: alcohol as a sanitizer
Tag @whumperless-whump-event please! If not, I may not see it or be able to reblog it!
If desired, tag the medium you used
Trigger tag and content warn (including nsfw/nsft)
If posting early, tag with #wwe early entry. If posting late, tag with #wwe late entry. If posting just for fun, no need to tag these!
IMPORTANT:
There are NO OTHER RULES. Do one prompt! Do seven! Do 'em all! Repeat the same prompt six days in a row! Switch them around and do them all out of order! Post them eight months after the event is over! Finish the prompt list early! Write one long-ass story that deals with every prompt or do a one-sentence drabble for each one! Recommend your favorite scenes regarding the prompt! Write, draw, sing, play music, make playlists, do fic recs or show recs or episode recs or book recs, fucking crochet or something! FOLLOW THE VIBE. DO WHAT'S FUN.
Prompts (text):
Emergency First Aid: Self-done stitches / Alcohol as sanitizer / “It's just a scratch, I've had worse.”
Does your insurance cover this?: Car accident / Bystander caretaker / “Eyes open, ambulance is almost here.”
Like a record, baby: Vertigo / Struggling to stand / “Is the room spinning, or is it just me?”
It's every day bro: Chronic pain / Massage / “I'm used to it.”
Stealing my breath (give it back): Wheezing / Light-headed / “I'll count, you just breathe.”
Summer is a curse: Heat Stroke / Panting / “Why don't we… find some shade, quick?”
Accidental Cryotherapy: Falling through a frozen lake / Hypothermia / “Hey, c'mon, you gotta stay awake.”
Put your head on my shoulder: Migraine / Light & Sound Sensitivity / “I can close the curtains…”
White and red handkerchief: Coughing up blood / Can't speak / “You just can't shake that cough, can you?”
Your work is never finished: Forced to work while ill / Workplace emergency / “...sit down, I'm calling HR.”
A minor annoyance: Stuffy nose / Hate to be sick / “I'm fine, I can work.”
It's going down (I'm yelling timber): Building collapse / Trapped under rubble / “I can't move my legs.”
It's just a pebble: Avalanche / Stuck in the mountains / “Well, this wasn't how I thought the hiking trip would go.”
Lay down your sword: Fighting back a cold / Cuddling / “Just let yourself be sick so you can get better.”
I'm going down (you're yelling timber): Passing out / Exhaustion / “I've got you, let's sit down, I've got you.”
Say goodbye to filters: Half-conscious / Delirious / “You would never say that in your right mind…”
In hot water: Dangerously high fever / Cool baths / “We have to get that number down somehow.”
I don't see it: Hallucinations / Fever dreams / “It's just a nightmare. You're safe.”
The whump morning after: Tending to injuries / Domestic hurt comfort / “Let's check the bandages, okay?”
It's not fun if you're panicking: Stuck in an elevator / Claustrophobia / “Get me out.”
Where's the exit: Lost / Stuck in the wilderness / “Surely someone will notice we're gone.”
Better out than in: Nervous Stomach / Vomiting / “I got your hair, it's fine.”
Well, that doesn't taste right: Accidentally poisoned / Allergic reaction / “My tongue feels like bees, is that normal?”
Be one with the fish: Drowning / Rescue Breaths / “Why did you think that was a good idea?!”
We didn't start the fire: Severe burns / Running into flames / “I know it hurts. Breathe.”
That's no barn spider: Venomous bite / Arachnophobia / “You'll be okay, we can help.”
What's your name again?: Concussion / Temporary Amnesia / “I don't remember what happened to me.”
Nothing behind the eyes: Fully unconscious / Force feeding / “It's just me, go back to sleep.”
Wrong place, wrong time: Robbery / One of many hostages / “Stay behind me, I can take a hit.”
I don't mean to get emotional: Fear / Breaking point / “I can't stop crying, I'm sorry--”
Only way out is through: Tunnel collapse / Accidental Journey / “We can't just sit here and wait.”
ALTERNATES:
Seizure
Choking
Withdrawal
Mugged
Wild animal attack
Hangover
Strain/sprain
Broken bone
Bloody nose
Panic attack
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n0bluev · 4 months ago
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The night sky can only be overshadowed by a star (its star.). A star of all things, the one thing that cannot be allowed to see the night of the sky, angled to be hidden away behind dawn and dusk. The night leaves quietly (but is cursed to come back ; avoiding is just like following when an orbit is shared.)
A star can only go off explosively, spectacularly. (Then, collapsed in on itself, away from the world to see (finally part of the shadow the night cast) it seems the bare core is at peace with never bringing day back : darkness soothes.)
Gojo is like a star - bright, hot, shining. Geto is like the night sky - mysterious, deep, endless.
#how do you feel about the fact that a star can never see the night [edit : *i* feel unwell; im adding that to the post actually hah]#that end lol. Thankfully there are other stars out there... COUGHHH CouGH#« What's left over after a supernova explosion is a 'neutron star' – the collapsed core of the star –#or. if there's sufficient mass. a black hole »#-> my honest reaction : "NOOOOO YUTA DONTGET SUCKED IN [the black hole] NOOoOooO /j/j/j (ily gege(when i catch u tho?...))#overshadowed ;; overLIGHTED* in this case i guess coughg-#oh and consider this : gojo only became the sun at *honoured one* : thats when he stopped being able to see (understand. ect) geto.#i never see that as a bad thing anyways.. theyre so conplex i love them#gojo trusted geto sm unconditionally.... (geto same. i hate them actually#go be gay elsewhere cowards /j)#(death trap shonen is just not it... /j/j im patting jjk on the head rn 'ur doing great!..')#thought of more light / shadow stuff....... ugrghh#gahh analogies... yay???? (when i get started theres always more..--my best friend; hater of metaphors (both /gen and as a bit); would#likely strangle me if she were to read the bits in my stuff where i make connections (that make sense to me🥺🥺) and i take the#themes of whatever im trying to convey and shake them like maracass until my brain calms down#to her it may look like im microwaving 5min then airfrying then cooling then re-crispying in the oven a couple times until for her it just#looks like a burnt charcoal. : bon appétit motherfucker (-me)#(im exagerating)#(but at the same time not)#and also she loves me so shes forced to appreciate whatever comes out of my brain. (shes sooo able to match my freak i am not worried<3)#.......................i dont even like this poetic stuff that much but i always end up falling into an analogy trap ?????#and then bam thats a whole paragraph of poetic nonsense that makes sense to me™#i need to practice writing#ill make it good good good one day#trust 😌#ill find the(my) ideal balance#(watch out ao3 ! TT)#mybad ive lost control of the tags. goodday or goodnight wherever whenever you are (wow okay. day n night. bye)#zzzz zzz <- me (ciao)#i think i have too many tags. it deletes my “I LIED: HERES ANOTHER THOUGHT PROCESS” take... TT
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mariasont · 5 months ago
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not sure if you’re planning to write this, but smut with spencer & bimbo!receptionist!reader would probably fix my problems 😔 i feel like spencer would be praising her nonstop, while also being condescending & i fucking live for that‼️
Undo You - S.R
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a/n: i love ur mind anon 😚 i hope this lives up to what you want 🫶🏼🫶🏼✨ thank you for requesting xoxo
anyway i kinda think this is bad bc i didn’t proofread but whatever ill prob go back and edit laters!
masterlist
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pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader
summary: bimbo reader and spencer doing the nasty
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fingering, degrading? (not really), spencer being slightly condescending, p in v, unprotected sex (BE BETTER!), creampie (STOP I HATE IT TOO BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO CALL IT?!?!?! TWINKIE?!?!)
wc: 1.3k
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Mustering the courage to ask you out was a feat in itself but getting you into his bed was a whole other ballgame. But here you were, fingers roaming through his hair and tracing the contours of his back. You were perfect, and you were in his bed.
The wasn't the first, nor would it be the last if he had anything to do with it. It's hard to fathom his good luck--to have you, breathtaking in every sense, under him, your fingertips gently grazing his waist band as you inch towards his cock.
Your makeup was almost artfully messy, with mascara delicately pooled beneath your lashes, rendering you devastatingly tempting. You had glittering eyeshadow on, and it was getting everywhere. Spencer felt the urge to undo you--to disrupt the pristine image you presented to the world, to make you uniquely his. Selfish? Without a doubt. But that didn't diminish the idea. 
Your hands, with their perfect manicure, were now wrapped around his cock, tugging and pulling as if your palms were sculpted precisely for this purpose. 
You were saying something, your lips a mesmerizing motion as he grasped the sheets beside you, each fistful a concerted effort to remain control.
"What, angel?" He was trying to be patient with you.
You talked a lot in general, but in bed, it only seemed to amplify. This was not a bad thing, not in his eyes, no, it was almost too much of a good thing. Each time your mouth opened and closed with another airy comment he found himself that much closer to spilling his load all over you.
"Your face is really red," you breathed out, nostrils flaring slightly, your eyes averted, engrossed in the sight of his length enclosed between your hands.
He stifled a laugh, resisting the urge to shove his cock into that pretty mouth of yours.
"Well, you see," Spencer starts, pausing as your hand presses to the tip of his length, "when someone is excited...or aroused, blood flow increases to the f-face, causing...vasodilation. It's... it's a sympathetic nervous system response."
"Oh, like when you get all red after running?" You tilt your head in that curious way of yours, your actions uninterrupted as words flowed from you.
"Yes, exactly like that."
He grabbed your hand, pulling you off of him and pressing that same hand to the mattress below him.
"And just like my face gets red, your pupils dilate when you're excited," Spencer explains, his hand poised just above your collarbone, sketching paths on your skin, "It's due to the release of norepinephrine, which is part of your body's fight of flight response."
Your lips were parted, pressing your body into him like you couldn't help yourself, hips squirming under his.
"So, what's the verdict, sweet girl?" Spencer asks, watching your gaze met his, lips parting as he dragged a hand over your clothed heat. "What's your body telling you? Fight of flight?"
You kissed him, gasping into his mouth as he pushed a finger into you. You were drenched. "Is submit an option?"
"That's my girl," he said, feeling his cock tighten even more, as if that were possible, almost moaning at the sight of your dimple being drawn out.
You whined, arching your back against the navy-blue sheets as your hands locked around his neck, pulling him impossibly close. He could smell everything about you from here—your coconut shampoo, your vanilla perfume, your lavender lotion. He wanted to inhale it, to inhale you.
He didn't even bother with your skirt, simply pulling your panties out from under it and lining himself up with your entrance. He watched, enthralled, as your chest rose and fell, holding your breath as you braced for his cock. You were so good for him, too good for him.
One hand clasped against your hip as the other guided his length into you, hissing as you tightened around him. It was a feeling that could never get old, like he was being reborn, like the world was ending and you and him were the only two people left. He would be fine with that.
Your face twisted up in pleasure as you began to rock against him, not giving yourself that chance to adjust. You did this often and it caused him to push down on your hips, stopping your movements. He could come if you kept doing that. He would.
"Patience," he hissed, but you were never one that was good with following orders.
You moved again, tits bouncing up and down your chest as you did. He stifled a groan, meeting your movements with thrusts of his own.
He imagined this is what Buddhists meant when they referred to finding the garden of Nirvana. This was it for him. The ultimate state of liberation and profound peace.
You were a blubbering mess, fingertips clawing down his back, surely to leave marks, but he couldn’t care less.
“Look at you,” he cooed, rutting his cock in and out of you. “You’re awfully quiet. Got something on your mind, baby?”
“N-No,” you stammered, legs wrapping around his waist as your arms went around his neck, clinging to him like a koala, your moans now pressed up against his ear.
“I figured as much.”
Your tits were flush against his chest, his breath stalling as he reached in the limited space between you, thumb circling your clit. Your whines intensified, just as his thrusts did.
“Spencer, please, yes, oh fuck—,” you paused, a gasp releasing from your lips as he felt you unravel on his cock, your wet cunt clenching around him in a way that made his legs shake.
“That’s it, sweetheart, just like that.” His movements were more desperate now, sloppily slamming into you without mercy. “You’re so fucking good, baby.”
He barely recognized your lips against his ear. “Will you come inside me please?”
That was all it took, those simple words, brushing against his skin and rushing all the way down to his cock. His thrusts slowing as he pumped himself inside you, the sound completely obscene, but it just made him enjoy it that much more.
You were limp against the bed, and Spencer was quick to follow, face finding the crook of his neck as he tried his best not to crush you with his weight.
He could feel your pulse against his lips, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses into your honey induced skin as he waited for you to return back to planet Earth.
He was well aware of the drill, pressing one last kiss to your sweaty forehead before prying himself out of your hands and making a beeline for the bathroom. He grabbed a towel and a glass of water before coming back to the bed, nearly fainting at your tired smile shining at him, at him.
“Hi, gorgeous.”
“I really love when you call me that,” you said, almost dreamily as you pushed your tousled hair into the pillow.
He laughed, placing the water on the table and moving your legs so he was between them.
“Gorgeous,” he repeated as he dabbed the towel to your sex, cleaning the mess he made on you. “Do I not call you that enough? Because I can certainly make it a more regular occurrence.”
“Well, I mean, it couldn’t hurt,” you said, giggling as you flinched away from the pressure on your clit.
He pushed your leg down, preventing you from squirming. “Let me clean you up.”
You pouted, and he had the sudden urge to bite your bottom lip. You gave him a salute, giggling before you could even get the words out. “Aye, aye captain.”
He tossed the towel to the side, climbing up your legs as he kissed you, soft and slow, murmuring into your lips, “come here, smart ass.”
taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf
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icysab · 1 year ago
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more niki boyfie hcs — falling for you edition!
requested here!
wc: <350 i think
a/n: this is a little different than my standard boyfie hcs but i wanted to try something new, so let me know your opinion in comments, reblogs, asks, etc. of this format !!
a/n no. 2: idc what anyone says riki is a DORKY, RIZZLESS LOSER SEVENTEEN YEAR OLD BOY AND I WILL WRITE HIM AS SUCH.
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- bro was CAPTIVATED by your smile
- that was literally the first thing he noticed about you— how your smile lit up the room he was in
- you were one of jungwon’s friends and so he introduced you to all the members
- and when i tell you niki’s heart STOPPED when he saw you
- but niki is loyal to his bros!! so he swallowed the lump in his throat so jungwon didn’t kill him
- (jungwon, in fact, introduced you to the members because you mentioned that niki was cute. he would not have cared one bit.)
- only realizes he’s staring after sunoo nudges him with his elbow
- literally stuttering trying to introduce himself
- “i, uh, my name is- uh- riki”
- (failed) attempts at acting aloof fly out the window when you repeat his name back and smile
- the second you leave jake and sunghoon RELENTLESSLY tease the poor guy
- and he gets so defensive too, like he wasn’t acting like a lost puppy dog
- before jakehoon can strip niki of too much of his pride though, won tells them to knock it off
- after scolding the two goofballs (scary leader) won decides to tell niki
- “you know, i don’t care if you go for her”
- poor riki is not following
- “??”
- “she thinks you’re cute too, and besides, you’d make a good match”
- he malfunctions
- “no nono why would you think that!! HAHA- wait. she thinks i’m cute??”
- he’s all red and blushy
- at this point jakehoon are CACKLING at poor riki
- won explains that you thought riki was cute too and that’s why he introduced you two, but he didn’t expect him to be such a nervous wreck around you
- riki is shocked 😮
- after MUCH coaxing from the members, won finally gets riki to text your number
- riki’s leg won’t stop bouncing with nerves as he types out a message
- “hey, this is riki from earlier. i just wanted to say that your shirt was cool”
- all the members facepalm at his attempts at playing it cool
- you respond almost instantly, to riki’s surprise
- “hi riki!! thank you, + i thought your outfit was cool too :D”
- before he can breathe a sigh of relief that your text was super nice and simple, he sees the typing bubble pop up again
- “did you ask won for my number? hah you must have wanted an excuse to talk to me again ”
- he freezes again
- HOW DID YOU SEE RIGHT THROUGH HIM??
- he’s about to deny, deny, deny, but won stops him
- “dude, just tell her the truth. did you already forget that she thinks you’re cute too?”
- riki’s brows furrow in thought at that, but before he can even begin to construe a cool, smooth response, jake rips the phone out of his hands
- RIKI SCREAMS SO LOUD THE ENTIRE DORM REVERBERATES while jake books it to the bathroom to lock himself in
- after a minute, he walks out with riki’s phone and the most devilish smirk on his lips
- before jake can do anything else, riki snatches the phone back and apprehensively starts to read the damage jake had done
- “lol you caught me. if you want, we could get to know each other better over some ice cream tmr? it’ll be my treat”
- “woah, that was smoother than i expected. ill see you tmr riki :)”
- riki is dumbfounded. did jake actually just score him a date with YOU?? there’s no way this worked
- “thank me later,” jake teases
- he is so in shock that he doesn’t even have the capacity to kill jake. tomorrow, a date (???) with you? he can die a happy man.
- to be continued…. ?
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lerclan · 5 months ago
Text
duct tape | lando norris
type: written + smau at the end
pairing(s): assistant!reader x lando norris
summary: youve been landos assistant for a while now and you were asked to do the most embarrassing thing ever, but it wasnt you that was the most embarrassed in the situation; it was your boss.
warning(s): a funny and POORLY edited photo of lando norris done by me (i was cackling making it 💀)
fc: luisinha oliveira!
---
"you want me to WHAT???" you spit out your drink.
"kiss him." the photographer, elise, says as you stare at your friend, eyes quite literally bulging out, "come on y/n..."
"you act like i kiss random people for fun." you say as you take a proper sip from your water.
"but hes not a random person?" she fires back as you roll your eyes.
"still. hes my boss and looking at the situation in general, thats quite embarrassing to do." you feel your face heat up, "how about we find someone else? i bet i can call someone with really luscious lips." you take out your phone and start scrolling through your contacts.
"no," she lowers your phone as you look at her, "he said he wanted YOU to do it."
"ME???" your jaw drops as elise starts laughing at your reaction, "youre lying."
"no im not!" she puts her pinky up as you intertwine your pinky with hers, "pinky promise."
"why me though?" you asked her curiously.
"i told him about the idea and how the stylist would do the kiss marks but he said he had the perfect someone to do the kiss marks and said your name." she explains as you give her a look, "okay to make it easier for you, hes gonna have duct tape covering his mouth. its for the aesthetics." your look immediately disappears and is replaced with a relieved expression.
"oh, you shouldve told me that earlier." you say as you finally smile, "that sounds a little bit easier to do."
"my bad, kind of forgot about it till i told you the story. woopsies." you laugh at her as she chuckles cheekily, "lets go to the set, its almost time for him to be ready."
you both arrived at the set and you noticed your boss all geared up next to an f1 car.
"i thought the set would be more scandalously themed, but this is so much better than what i anticipated." you let a breath out as elise laughs at you.
"do you think im a pornographer or something? gosh have faith in your friends innocence." she rolls her eyes jokingly and it was your turn to laugh now.
landos head instantly turned to your direction as he heard your laughter. he didnt know if you had agreed to the suggestion, but he hoped that elise didnt bring it up since he was feeling a little embarrassed now for acting impulsively with suggesting you to do the kiss marks instead of the stylist.
with how caught up he was in his thoughts, stressing over his impulsive move, he didnt realize that you guys were in front of him.
"lando? landooo???" you say waving your hands in front of his face.
"oh–yes? hi?" he says as he finally snaps out of it.
"you were zoning out. what were you thinking about this time?" you asked as he smiles.
"nothing in particular, just a little nervous on what to do in this photoshoot." he admits mostly.
"youre gonna do good, boss. dont worry about anything! just do what you usually do, your fans are gonna love it no matter what." you comfort him with a smile as he reciprocates the same expression.
you guys stare into each others eyes for a bit until elise finally interrupted you both.
"ahem! love birds can you guys contain yourselves for a sec–" you slap her shoulder lightly as she laughs at it as landos face turns a bit red, "i was just kidding!! anyways...im just here to tell you that y/n agreed to the idea, so ill be back with some duct tape and red lipstick." she walks off and you were left with lando.
"so...you agreed???" he asks as he feels his face heating up more from the fact that you agreed.
"yeah, at first i thought i was kissing you straight up...which is a very hard task to do considering our positions, but she told me you were gonna have duct tape over your mouth; so its like an indirect kiss. which i can mostly do." you answer his question with a small chuckle as he feels his face heat up more, "are you good, lan? youre looking kinda...red?? ish???"
"yeah, no, im fine. this is fine. im perfectly normal." he says quickly as you eye him out.
you reached for his forehead and noticed it was a little warmer.
"are you sure? you feel a little warm." you say as you start to panic thinking about his schedule for today.
"y/n, i am perfectly fine. its just the suit..." he lies as you look at him with doubtful eyes.
before you could pester him more, elise came back with red lipstick and duct tape just like she said.
"here, put this on your lips and also tape his mouth shut." she says as you grab the items.
"it will probably do us a favor if his mouth is taped shut." you joke as he rolls his eyes at you.
"gosh whats that supposed to mean?" he side eyes you as you laugh.
"it means..." you drag on as he looks at you, waiting for you to answer his question.
"it means wha—" his sentence gets cut off by you taping his mouth, "hmf mhmhf!!" he tries to talk but it comes out muffled.
"what did he say?" elise asks as you both laugh at his attempt.
"he probably said 'you muppet!', to insult me or something." you answer her, mimicking landos voice.
"sounds like him alright. perfect impression!!" she says as you take a small bow.
you put the duct tape down and opened the lipstick so you could put it on, kiss him, and get done with it already.
"you ready, lan?" you ask him as he puts his hands up to rip the tape off his mouth half way.
"no–wait. i need like a drink or something..." he comes up with an excuse as he feels his face get hot again due to the situation he put himself in.
"come on lando..its a quick peck and boom were finished!" you reassure him feeling a little flustered as you realize what youre actually doing, "come here."
he dodges you as you glare at him.
"WAIT. PLEASE GIVE ME A SECOND." he yells out as you roll your eyes getting impatient.
"okay fine." you go back to the spot you were standing in.
you look at him grab a bottle of water to drink and he starts fanning himself.
"are you sure youre good?" you asked as he nods his head quickly.
"dont worry about him, y/n. hes just feeling a little flustered because hes getting an indirect ki—" elise gets cut off by an empty water bottle getting thrown at her, "what the hell LANDO." she throws the water bottle back at him.
you laugh at their little squabble until the water bottle hit you and now theyre the ones laughing at you.
"I ALWAYS CATCH STRAY BULLETS I SWEAR. cant laugh in peace anymore..." you say as they laugh harder, "ANYWAYS, lando come here and let me kiss you." you feel your face heat up as soon as you realized what you really said.
"yeah let her kiss you lando." elise chimes in with a little melody.
"not like that–you know what–gosh whatever come on lando, you have places to be after this." you say finally grabbing his arm as he gets closer to you.
"okay, just do it..." he says as he grabs your arms and puts it around his neck, "WAIT WAIT WAIT AAAAHHHH!!" he yells out as he sees how close you guys are.
"LANDO MAN UP GOSH." you finally grab his face and kissed him on both of his cheeks, his forehead, and his lips. directly. completely forgetting the fact that his mouth was not taped shut.
you both dont notice that you guys were kissing lips directly until you both heard a camera click. you guys pulled back and thats when you noticed his lips completely covered in red.
"OH MY GOOOOSHHHH!!!!" elise squeals out as your eyes widen.
"I AM SO SORRY LANDO. I FORGOT YOU DIDNT HAVE IT ON–" you get cut off by lando.
"no, no. its totally fine, y/n...youre good. simple mistake. im completely normal and youre completely normal." he smiles at you, ready to explode from holding in a scream, as you smile back out of relief.
"also...ELISE DELETE THAT RIGHT NOW." you jump her as shes fighting for her life.
you suddenly feel somebody pull you back, which was lando with a huge grin.
"elise, let me see the photo." he says as you look at him.
elise unlocks her phone and pulls up the photo of you and lando kissing, which was a pretty cute angle and photo. you cursed her photography skills.
"you should totally send me that." he says as your jaw drops, "what? its a cute photo of us." he says not knowing where the confidence suddenly came from.
"before y/n dies from a heart attack, have her kiss you again. WITH the tape on this time." elise says as you felt your eye twitch, jaw still on the floor.
you eventually snapped out of shock and reapplied the lipstick so it was more pigmented and you kissed him again, with the tape over his mouth. you looked up at him and realized that he was smiling. you didnt know why, well you had a hint but you didnt wanna act on it.
lando quickly finished his photoshoot and now it was time to go to another place for an interview. you both entered the car and you were met with silence until he spoke up.
"sooo...do you maybe wanna go out for dinner tonight?" he asks breaking the silence as you look at him.
"arent you hanging out with carlos tonight??" you question him as he cheekily smiles at you.
"not–" he takes out his phone and texts carlos something and looks up to look at you, "anymore."
you laugh at his little act and smiled warmly.
"id love to have dinner with you, lan." you met eye contact as he smiles from ear to ear.
he grabs your hand and intertwines them together, keeping it that way till you both arrived at the interview place.
---
landonorris
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Liked by ynnn, mclaren, elise_amor, and 1,272,183 others
landonorris dropping in with a kiss 💋
tagged: eaphotography
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mclaren our driver has never looked better! 🧡
landonorris thanks, mclaren!!! 🧡🧡🧡
user1 OMG I AM SCREAMINGAHEB
user2 HE LOOKS SO FINE OH MY GOSH
user3 WHY DOES HE LOOK SO SEXY 😻😻😻
user4 real question tho...who gave him those marks? ����🤨🤨
user5 probably the stylist or something
eaphotography nuh uh
user5 HUHH???
eaphotography 🤫🧏‍♀️
user6 HELPPPP
user7 im so jealous of the person that did that 😭😭😭
user8 CHAT I WANT HIM SO BAD
carlossainz55 wow is that why you were busy mate?
landonorris no? 🙄
carlossainz55 elise sent me a photo, are you sure? 😒😒
landonorris SHHHHHH
elise_amor LMFAOOO
ynnn MAN WHAT THE FLIP DELETE IT
elise_amor NEVERRRR. YOU GUYS LOOK TOO CUTE.
user9 photo? 🤨
ynnn NOTHING.
user10 what if this was a soft launch or something 😻😻😻
landonorris yeah..that would be totes..crazy...👀
user10 IT IS?!?&2&:
ynnn LANDO SHUT UP.
user11 GUYS LANDO AND HIS ASSISTANT, Y/N, ARE DATING 😳😳😳
user10 I AGREE W YOU
user12 how??
user11 i saw them kiss last night at this one restaurant
ynnn @/landonorris YOU SAID IT WAS A BLIND SPOT...
landonorris woops...cats out of the bag ig ☺️☺️☺️
user11 OH MY GOSH!/!/&2&:
user10 WHAT THE SIGMA
lerclan HELPPP THE PHOTO IS SO FUNNY
---
ynnn
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Liked by elise_amor, landonorris, carlossainz55, and 26,173 others
ynnn bro cannot keep his mouth shut. BRING BACK THE DUCT TAPE.
tagged: landonorris
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landonorris IM SORRY IM JUST HAPPY BABE 😻
ynnn youre lucky youre cute ❤️
Comments on this post have been limited
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authors note(s): iaheiqhehwjq i hope this was good cuz i absolutely had no plot line 💀
ALSO YOU DK HOW BAD I WAS DYING AT ME EDITING THAT PHOTO OF LANDO I LITERALLY COULD NOT BREATHE 😭😭😭
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blissfullsvn · 6 months ago
Text
between the lines
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pairing. academic rival!taesan x reader genre. fluff word count. 1.3k warnings. reader is sick, reader calls taesan a prick, he is kinda a prick (but fluff triumphs all 🙏) a/n. it's necessary for their dynamic but no actual rivalry is emphasized here... (for my fellow academic rivals-to-lovers enthusiasts... ill cook up sth soon) pt.2 | masterlist
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taesan is flustered.
you and taesan had never really had an amicable relationship. to put it into perspective, you'd rather spend hours editing the mess of a report your equally-messy groupmates wrote, than spend hours working together with han taesan—the student well-known for submitting flawless and only flawless pieces of work.
it wasn't always like this. of course it wasn't. who in their right mind would prefer to add 'babysitting adults' onto their plate that's already filled to the brim, instead of making their life easier by grouping with an academic weapon?
but working with han taesan is not for everyone.
actually, scratch that. working with han taesan is not for you.
you don't know what you did, but you're almost 100% sure he has a personal vendetta against you. for such a pretty face, his mouth only spits out the nastiest of things, at least to you.
actually, scratch that again. han taesan only does that to you.
because you shared all the core modules with him, you had foolishly decided to group up with him for all the assignments you had in your first semester of university. to put it simply, that was probably the worst decision you’d made in your life.
why? for every idea you gave, he'd step over with another. for every suggestion you offered, he'd pinpoint every aspect to shut it down. sure, he may have had better ideas, but you didn't think it was necessary to stomp at your input so readily. you definitely didn't think it was necessary to smirk like he'd won a battle after every instance.
you thought you'd be able to escape his belittling remarks and irritating smugness after that one semester, but why did he have to share the same plans as you as well? the day you stepped into the student council office and saw him sitting in the seat next to yours, you already felt dread clawing at you.
fast forward to the present, you're both running for student president for the next year. you had already lost the role of vice president to him this year, so you're determined to not let him pick at you again. not that he could even if he wanted to, because you practically transform into an iron shield whenever he enters your vision (which is more times than you'd liked, considering you share the same environment with him everywhere. he seems to enjoy this, though).
you've been preparing diligently for your student president pitch, but that's also on top of having 5 tight assignment deadlines and planning the biannual festival happening in the next month. for the past weeks, the student council office had turned into your place to work, eat, and even sleep, though the last was never intentional.
today, again, you're sitting at your desk, your laptop opened in front of you, but it’s unlike usual—a cup of hot-turned-lukewarm tea next to you, a pile of tissues scattered around the table, an oversized hoodie draped over your frame, your sniffles echoing across the empty room, and your body which felt heavier than usual.
you've tried your hardest fighting the urge to fall asleep, the dimness of the room not helping, but when the clock struck 3, you decide to give yourself mercy and lean forward, resting your head on your arms over the table. it's far from comfortable; your back is aching, your neck is sore, your nose is uncooperative, and the screech of the door is hurting your head.
you open your eyes briefly at the intruder by the door. they're frozen for a beat, as if surprised to see you there, then they’re tilting their head in what seems to be confusion. soon, they're taking small steps towards you. you should be alarmed, but your defenses have shut down from the fatigue, so all you can think is that if you die, you hope you die a climactic death.
the intruder, thankfully, does not appear to have any intent of killing you. they are, however, intent on disturbing you.
“y/n?” there's a soft tap on your shoulder. you squint, trying to decipher the blurry face in front of you before deciding against it. your act of protest comes out as a small whine that unintentionally escapes the back of your dry throat.
the figure stands there in shock, hand hovering your back. they blink a few times, as if trying to register what they just heard, before they decide to squat next to you, patting your shoulder again.
“y/n? don't sleep here.” the voice is familiar, but uncharacteristically soft. and fond. why is it fond?
you open your eyes again. seeing han taesan mere inches away from your face is something you'd never expect, but you're too tired to even be shocked. instead, you blink slowly, as if you're a newborn reacting to stimuli you've never experienced before.
“han taesan,” you mumble against your arm. your voice comes out nasally from your cold and as a result, more whiny than usual.
“y–yes?” he ignores the stutter and moves his hand to brush away the strands of hair covering your face. it comes so naturally that he freezes when he realises and quickly pulls his hand back to himself.
“prick.” you shut your eyes as you say this, missing the widening of his eyes. “annoying.”
he frowns, “i'm annoying?”
“very.” you don't miss a beat to reply. “why do i have to see you everywhere . . . .” you trail off, your voice decreasing in volume as you speak.
taesan is silent for a few moments, during which the only sounds that can be heard are the tick-tock of the clock and the whirs of the air conditioner. he takes one glance at your hoodie and the tissues around you before promptly turning off the AC.
“fine,” he huffs as he stands up. “i’ll be annoying for a bit more.” he taps your shoulder again. “go home. you can't sleep here. it's so late.”
the deprivation of sleep is getting to you, because your immediate response to him is to let out another whine that would immediately shatter your image of the cool senior and president-to-be if anyone heard you.
which, of course, brings us back to the first line.
taesan is flustered.
he's never seen you this… babyish before. ever since the first semester, all you would entertain him with were glares, furrowed eyebrows, and the occasional roll of your eyes if you were really salty. you had never been this defenseless around him, to which he feels something tug at his chest.
he stretches his lips into a line and squats down again. “what do you want me to do then?” his voice is soft. too soft. “i’m not letting you sleep overnight here.”
you slowly open your eyes, sniffling as you look at him in disbelief. “if you're not willing to carry me home, just go.” you shut your eyes again.
it's silent once again. at this, you dig your face deeper into your arms, having zero expectations. you furrow your eyebrows slightly when you hear shuffles above you, followed by the clash of stationeries, the crackle of the plastic bag used as your trash bin, the sudden cease of the whirring of your laptop fan, and finally the sound of a zipper.
you open your eyes in time to see taesan cupping your face in one hand and pulling your arm with the other to make you sit up. you let yourself be handled without evident resistance, though your confusion is blatant. once he sees that you're up, he quickly squats down in front of you, back facing you.
“climb up. this annoying prick will carry you home.”
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a/n. this may or may not be insanely self-indulgent due to a cold i may or may not have. i also may or may not have thoughts about a pt. 2. (edit: pt. 2 is out!)
anw, first post! just fitting for it to be about han taesan bcs this man (read: bnd as a whole) has been living in my brain for the past month (case in point: me literally writing this note at 3am when my headache is killing me).
i hope this was as enjoyable to read as it was for me to write <3
© blissfullsvn 2024. All Rights Reserved.
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dandylovesturtles · 3 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
-----
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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sparky-is-spiders · 1 month ago
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Just gonna keep all my self-indulgent fun Drama aus here. Anyway my brain is feeling more cooperative now but only for soap opera Jonelias. Nothing else. So.
I'm obsessed with. Jonelias torrid affair. I'm thinking younger researcher Jon. Pre season 1. And Elias is this cool, calm, extremely knowledgeable guy that Jon looks up to, who's taken on something of a mentorship role. And Jon's just nursing the most embarrassing crush, but this is his boss who is like twice his age, but Elias just knows so much and he's got this steady air to him that helps Jon feel more grounded and he's so interesting to talk to and what's Jon even supposed to do about that???? And it doesn't help that Elias is actively interested in him and invested in him. So the abandonment issues and need to Impress Elias (because maybe he can't be liked for himself but surely he can be appreciated for his intelligence and diligence) and the emotional repression are all mixing in his head.
Eventually it reaches a breaking point. I'm not even sure who I want to initiate tbh. Maybe Elias wants to see what happens if he pushes Jon, maybe Jon impulsively makes a move.... yeah ok it's probably Elias who starts things tbh. I think he would also enjoy the drama of a secret relationship (especially the shame and the fear of discovery... it would be a nice snack). Besides he gets to rotate Jon and put him in mundane situations and examine his future archivist from every angle and keep him both close to Elias and from forming connections with others.
They never officially date properly and also it's messy as hell. Elias likes to push Jon and Jon is prone to freezing him out or trying to avoid him whenever the pressure and secrecy get to be too much. Like one third of their relationship is emotionally charged conversations about work (workaholics lmao) and one third is bickering and the rest is snogging in quiet corners of the institute.
And maybe part of it is that Jon doesn't want to lose the only real connection he has and that's why he holds onto the relationship so hard. And maybe that scares him and they break up a bunch because Jon needs to prove that he doesn't need this and he needs to hide the evidence so nobody can find out that he's having some weird messy love affair with his middle-aged boss. But he can never resist their connection and he can never resist Elias.
Idk this all feels ooc tbh. Anyway have my brainleavings.
Because I'm feeling warm and fuzzy and self-indulgent and also because I spent this morning marinating in headache and daydreaming about it:
#SOOOOO important that whatever nonsense they get up to is ill-defined and often impulsive#and i'm honestly a little enthralled with jon having parental issues and crushing on his older mentor figure who cares for him#but this is Dramaland so they can't have a normal relationship#no no it's gotta be ya novel back-and-forth break-up=make-up-break-up stuff#i LOOOOOVE on-again off-again. i love power dynamics. i love secret affairs. i love relationships described as affairs generally!!#didn't get into elias' headspace because. too tired for that much braining tbh.#anyway literally everyone knows something is up because jon Cannot be subtle#like they don't know what's happening but they do know that jon is weirdly hot and cold on the topic of elias#and they spend so much time together#and jon will complain until the cows come home about elias' management style#but god forbid you ever insinuate that elias might be anything less than a SAINT.#and elias likes to make his favoritism ever so slightly known#jon has the social intelligence of zero (autism) (he just like me fr)#so elias' more subtle gestures go entirely over his head. but everyone else is picking up Hints. and they Suspect.#and jon knows that they know but he doesn't know how and it's soso stressful#and he deals with this stress by arguing with elias. and making out with elias. and breaking up with elias.#also if you are wondering yes there are a billion additional potential Drama Seasoning Packets#(and if you are curious consider this permission to ask about any or all of them)#including:#jon cheats on someone (martin) with elias.#unplanned pregnancy (sorry. it will happen again)#torrid affair with peter in s4#torrid affair with peter while broken up with elias#(i actually have a Whole Post somewhere about jonpeterelias having So Much Fucking Drama somewhere)#unplanned pregnancy (jonelias hooked up right before the unknowing edition)#jon cheating on martin and that's how elias bullies martin in the s3 finale (hey you'll never guess the additional optional plotline here)#jongertrude vs jonelias: old people playing tug of war with jon's destiny#jonelias marriage (legal documents will fix this messy unacknowledged affair)#seriously guys i have. i have so many.#jonelias
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