#leo and large sweaters

[bambiraptorx]

[I.D. Four panel comic using characters from ROTTMNT and TMNT 2003 Stockman. The first panel is a human design of Rise Leo, holding up his phone so he can take a selfie. He has short, curly hair, a wide, flat nose, and wears a t-shirt that says "01". He also has a bracelet around his wrist with a small, human-shaped charm. Leo smiles smugly, framing his face with his free hand, and says "Oh man, I look so much like Lou Jitsu!" From off-panel, Draxum says "That would be because-" Leo interrupts "Shut it Drax, I don't care." Also from off-panel, Mikey says "Ooh! My turn!"

Panel 2: A human version of Mikey stands in front of a mirror, grinning excitedly. He has a medium length afro, a more rounded face, and a large nose, and is also wearing a t-shirt. He raises his hands excitedly, one of them wearing the same bracelet Leo had on. He says "Woah! This cloaking bracelet is so cool, I totally look human!"

Panel 3: Baron Draxum, wearing his s2 yukata and drawn with curly hair, stands with his hands behind his back next to 2003 Stockman. Stockman wears a sweater vest and long-sleeved shirt--he also has the same nose shape as Mikey. Stockman covers his mouth with on hand, his eyebrows raised in a contemplative and almost vulnerable expression. He says "Odd how much Michelangelo looks like me..." Next to him, Draxum raises his ears in realization, a large exclamation point by his head.

Panel 4: Stockman lowers his hand, glares at Draxum suspiciously, and says "Draxum. Why does he look like me?" Draxum pins his ears and glances away, and says "Uhhhh you know what I think I have some dishes to wash or something" End I.D.]

I maintain that giving the turtles cloaking broaches (or something adjacent at least) in the context of this au would be so funny

[poppitron360]

In honour of today being 55 years since the first stone thrown at the Stonewall Uprising, here is some Valgrace fanfiction (definitely that and not the fact that I just happen to have finished it yesterday).

I am so, incredibly grateful to all those people who rioted from June 28th-July 3rd in Greenwich Village, New York, just so that I could one day have the right to post angsty little fics about these two fictional teenagers on my tiny Tumblr blog (That is what they were fighting for, right?). We have come so far, haven’t we? And I think it’s important, next time we read a silly little Valgrace fic or reblog some Solangelo fanart, we owe it all to a Black Trans Woman who threw the first stone (Seriously, guys, read into the Stonewall Riots, they are fascinating).

So the message here is… Don’t be mean, just read Valgrace?

Anyway-

Summary: AU where Valgrace is canon meaning that Leo came straight back to chb after BoO. Set at New Year’s, following the aftermath of the battle with Gaea and Leo’s “Death”. Leo struggles with flashbacks, having just exploded and therefore probably being traumatised. Jason comforts him, and they realise- even though they’re still scarred from the war- just how lucky they are to have each other, and to, for once, not have the weight of the world resting on their shoulders.

CW: Angst I guess

Word Count: 2,084

VALGRACE

Jason was swaddled in his scarf and winter coat. Leo had settled for just a jacket and gloves, after much grumbling.

“I don’t get cold like you do!” He’d complained, “I’m toasty warm!!”

He’d agreed to put on the jacket for the necessity of pockets (because his magic infinitely-pocketed tool belt apparently wasn’t enough). Jason, on the other hand, was freezing. He needed a sweater, a coat, a hat, a scarf AND his hot-water-bottle of a boyfriend to keep from turning blue. He’d spent most of his childhood at Camp Jupiter in California, where even wintertime was balmy. Here on Long Island, the air bit like an alley cat.

They walked down to the beach, the cold night air stinging Jason’s cheeks. Jason put an arm around Leo’s shoulders and rested his chin on the top of his curly-haired head, which made it awkward as they walked.

“…What’re you doing?” Leo asked.

“Mmm…” Was Jason’s response, “You’re warm…”

Maybe it was the whole “raised by wolves” thing, Jason had always had the urge to curl up on a comfortable lap and snore.

Leo didn’t push him off.

They stepped gingerly down to the docks, hug-walking as they went. A crowd of people had already gathered along the shoreline, looking out towards the ocean. A large clock had been set up to face them, the time reading 11:52.

“Eight minutes to go…” Jason said, taking his chin off of his human chin-rest and looking at Leo, “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

Leo nodded, “Yeah. I died.”

“We fought giants and monsters.”

“And I made a super awesome plate of enchiladas, my best yet!”

“Those were some really good enchiladas.”

Leo looked down, and Jason could see a little hint of sadness in his eyes. Then he looked back up at Jason.

“I’m glad I have you, Jason.”

Jason put an arm around him and pulled him closer as they looked out towards the clock and the sky and the sea, “I’m glad I have you, too, firefly.”

They stayed there, enjoying each other’s company, waiting for the New Year to drop, and for once, they were just regular boyfriends.

Then the countdown started.

“10… 9… 8…”

Jason looked into Leo’s deep brown eyes and smiled. Everything was perfect.

“7… 6… 5… 4…”

Leo smiled back, yelling the numbers alongside everyone else.

“3… 2… 1…”

They kissed.

“Happy New Year!!!!!”

And then, the first firework exploded, and everything went wrong.

Bang!

Leo’s face flashed with panic, his eyes darting around wildly like for a moment he’d forgotten where he was.

Bang! Bang!

Fireworks lit the sky, but Jason wasn’t looking. He was watching Leo’s face as the colours flashed across it, reds and greens and purples. The bright twinkle that reflected in his eyes was supposed to be that happy spark of wonder at the fireworks, but Leo’s eyes were filled with utter terror and dread. He pulled away from Jason, and took a few steps back, momentarily stunned by the explosions.

“Leo, what’s wrong?”

BANG!!

Leo yelped and wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears. He stumbled back, colliding with some other campers in the crowd. They briefly stopped their whooping and cheering to shoot him a disgruntled look, then turned back to the sky.

Jason stepped forward, but Leo was looking around, confused, like his mind had gone somewhere else. His breath was short and panicked. His eyes were watery, staring in fear at the sky.

Bang!! Bang-bang!!!

Leo unwrapped his arms from his head, and used them to push through the bodies of staring people, stumbling and scarpering away from the noise.

Jason chased after him, “Leo, wait! Where are you-“

Leo had disappeared into the crowd.

Jason spent the next few minutes searching for him on the beach, no luck. He ignored the bangs behind him. The crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed at the explosions of light. Jason pushed through them, calling Leo’s name. He was getting worried. Leo knew how to disappear if he wanted to. If he was running scared, Jason wasn’t sure if he could find him before he got himself hurt. Why did he have to end up dating the flight risk? No, that was unfair. Leo’s runaway childhood was through no fault of his own. But if he was frightened, Jason had to find him quickly.

He searched the Hephaestus Cabin. Nothing. The forges. Nothing. The only other place Jason figured Leo would hide was Bunker 9. And sure enough, as soon as he’d entered, the large industrial lighting rig slammed on, and he could see Leo curled up against the wall, shivering. And Leo didn’t get cold.

“Leo?” He asked, “You okay?”

Leo shook his head, his hands still clutched around his ears. His voice was chocked with tears.

“Expl-explosions-” He managed, “Loud… very loud…”

Leo’s whole body was shaking. Jason crouched down next to him.

“When you… when you died? In that blast? The fireworks brought you back to that moment?”

He remembered the confused look in Leo’s eyes as he watched the colourful explosions light the sky- like he was somewhere else, hearing a different bang.

“I… I…” Leo wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and took a deep breath. He seemed to regain his composure, enough to look Jason in the eyes. “It was so painful, Jason… I was… and I didn’t understand why everyone was clapping.”

Ever since Leo had come back, he’d kept that same bubbly persona going. Jason hadn’t even realised how much actually dying had scarred him, but of course, it must have done. Leo never let on that he was haunted by that, but Jason could see it now clear as ever. Every firework would bring him back to that morning, when Leo had vaporised Gaea with the force of his own power.

Jason nodded. “I understand. The flashbacks… they’re hard. Particularly when everyone else seems to be unaffected. Your whole life flashes before your eyes and they’re cheering. It’s scary… But you’re safe now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here.”

Jason wrapped his big strong arms around Leo’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Leo buried his face in Jason’s lap and began to sob. Jason stroked his hair.

“Shh… it’s okay… you’re safe now… you’re safe…”

Outside the thick walls of Bunker 9, muffled bangs continued. Leo whimpered at every single one.

“It’s okay, Leo… they can’t hurt you… you’re safe with me…”

“I’m sorry…” Leo sobbed.

“Shh. Shh. Sorry for what, Baby?”

Leo rolled over in Jason’s lap so that he was looking up into his eyes, “For ruining New Year’s with my stupid PTSD. You should be out there enjoying yourself instead of worrying about me, crying like a baby who’s afraid of a little fireworks.”

“No. No. Stop thinking like that. Stop it, right now. As your commanding officer, I forbid it.”

“You’re not my commanding officer!” Leo complained, indignantly, “Those are only to Roman soldiers. At Camp Half-Blood, we’re both head counsellors. We’re of equal station.”

“Fine,” Jason rolled his eyes, “As your boyfriend then. You’re banned from calling yourself stupid. You’re not stupid, Leo. You’re hurting. You’re scared. It’s okay, you have a right to feel those things. It’s totally normal, considering what you’ve been through.”

Leo was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Actually, I have the title of Supreme Commander, so I outrank you.”

Jason chuckled, “How about Prince then? My dad is King of the universe.”

“Holy Hephaestus, you’re right… I’m dating a freaking Prince.”

They laughed and settled into comfortable silence for a few moments. Then Leo’s expression turned sad.

“I know that I- I joke about it a lot, but I was… dead. I was actually dead, Jason.”

“I know… I know…”

“Like, I actually died. And… I can’t help but wonder… how she felt…”

“You mean your mom?” Jason asked.

Leo nodded, “How much pain I was in… I put her through that…”

“No… Baby, no…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it was Gaea who caused it, but it was my flames that burned her. Or maybe it was smoke inhalation or something, I dunno, but it came from me. The pain she felt was a direct result of something that came from inside me. And I felt it, too. When I killed Gaea. It was horrible. I finally understood how she would’ve felt. Except it would’ve been worse for her, wouldn’t it? Trapped in that workshop, helpless, alone, as the flames rose up.”

Leo paused. Jason just studied him, silently. At the lack of new input, Leo continued, “What was she thinking? Did she see the fire and know that I’d done that? I mean, she didn’t know that Gaea was there. In those final moments, dying by her son’s hand, did she think I’d let her down? Because I couldn’t control it? Did she realise with a sinking feeling that all her worst fears were confirmed, that I really was too dangerous? Was she disappointed in herself for not raising me right? For not teaching me to be more careful? It’s just… once you’ve faced your own death, experienced the thoughts going through your head in those final moments, you start to wonder what other people thought during theirs. I dunno…”

Jason thought about that, “No, no, I get it. I understand.”

It had taken a while for Leo to get to a point where he could talk to Jason so openly like that. Where he could share the thoughts that haunted him, articulate his feelings in a way that Jason could understand. Even if he didn’t understand sometimes, he still listened. But most of the time, he could empathise with Leo- probably more than Leo realised. Jason himself hadn’t been dead, but he’d come close. And what Leo had said about thinking in those final moments… that resonated with him. He thought about his own mom. Did she think about him at all in that car crash? Did she regret abandoning him, not reaching out? Or did she not care?

“I get it,” Jason said again, “I mean, I actually lost you. It might’ve been only for a day or so, but for a few moments you weren’t on this planet at the same time as me. I don’t really want to think about it, the fact that I could’ve…”

He stroked Leo’s hair, as Leo started to cry.

“I’m sorry, Jason…” He mumbled.

“No… No, what’re you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” Leo admitted, “Putting you through that, I guess.”

“Oh, Baby… No… I mean, it hurt, but you came back. All is good.”

“And I’m sorry to my mom.”

“She’ll forgive you. She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can take an educated guess,” Jason told him, “I’m Prince of the freaking Cosmos, remember? You have to listen to me.”

Jason rubbed Leo’s shoulder as Leo lay in his lap, “Look, Leo, you’re valuable. You’re needed. You deserve love, and forgiveness, and patience, and everything else. You’re brilliant, and awesome, and cool.”

“I know,” Leo said.

“Then why don’t you believe me when I tell you that? This was not your fault. You don’t need to keep kicking yourself about it. You did good. You saved the world. You avenged her death. You are loved. You are cared for. You are forgiven.”

Leo burst into tears.

“Shhh… it’s okay…” Jason soothed, “You can rest, now.”

“You can rest, now…”

Long had Jason waited to hear those words. And now, looking down at Leo, eyes closed, head rested on Jason’s knee, his breathing getting increasingly steadier- he realised how much Leo had needed them, too. And he found, with absolute certainty, that it was true for them both. There were no explosions. There was no Gaea. They were safe, here, at Camp. They had each other. It would take time for the nightmares to end, for the scars to fade. It would mean Leo would not be able to enjoy fireworks for a long time, maybe never. But they were safe. They could rest here, until daybreak. They might even skip breakfast and sleep in all morning. No urgent quests needed to be undertaken. No oracles prophesied their deaths. Leo had Jason to dry his tears. Jason had Leo to keep him warm. They were beaten and damaged, but they were alive. And they could rest, knowing that they had each other. For that, Jason was eternally grateful.

[ficoandleo]

Leo's posted a TikToc! The description is simply "did that himbo even notice???"

Leo is walking down a dorm hallway in Vagastrom. He's kindly angled the camera so he wouldn't be recording the name plates on everyone's doors as he walked past.

"So I know it's still kinda warm in mainland Tokyo, but it's starting to get cool here in Darkwick." Of course he couldn't explain the anomalous nature of the island, so he began a (surprisingly, if someone was new to Leo's channel or didn't know how smart Leo was) scientific explanation about the nature of weather patterns and how temperatures are impacted by being close to water. . . . "Anyway, totally off track. What I'm getting at is: it's almost sweater season!!!

"So if you've been following me since, like, at least last year, you know I steal Sho's sweaters. I have been stealing Sho's sweaters since we were fourteen years old. But this year," Leo rounds the corner and begins descending the stairs into the garage, "I have a new target. . . ."

The shot changes frontwards and Leo is walking towards the back of the Vagastrom garage. Fortunately none of the cars in view are so anomalous that the censor prevents him from showing them.

"So I mentioned I'm in Vagastrom house and I mentioned my captain and how he doesn't like being on camera and gets mad if I record him--oh! There he is~!" Leo whispers only loud enough for the camera to hear. He turns the camera to one of the lifted cars where Alan's large body is beneath it, working on some problem. The angle prevents one from easily seeing his face but anyone familiar with him might recognize him. Leo zooms in on Alan and pokes his fingers into the camera view and pretends to rub his belly, then squeeze him between his digits. "So he's a big dude. Like, bigger than Sho, legit the biggest guy in Darkwick. He's like. Over 2 meters. And muscular too."

The camera shot changes to be facing Leo as he walks down a hall somewhere in the back of the garage.

"So I'm hoping. . . ." He stopped walking and reached out with excited, parted lips. The sound of a door knob turning reached the camera and he smiled in dull amusement, mumbling as he walks in. "He seriously doesn't even lock his door. . .? So I'm hoping he's got some good, big sweaters or hoodies or something for when it starts getting cold. I could buy my own but it's always better when it's someone else's. Trust."

The door closes quietly behind Leo and he looks around the room, walking around. "Wheeere. . .?" He mumbles, turning his head back and forth as he walks the room in search of Alan's closet. When he's finally found it, he lets out a bright little 'oh! Got it!' and opens it to search.

"Guys, there is not a lot in here." He grins, leaning forward. "Buuuut. . . ."

The screen pops to another room--based on the tile and towels, a bathroom--with Leo standing far enough away from the shot that most of his body is in frame. He holds up his bent arms, a severely oversized grey sweater dwarfing his slim frame. It droops over his hands, completely covering them, and it runs down his body to about halfway down his thighs, and the neck opens a little deeply down his chest. He's positively beaming. "Look at this!! It's fucking huge!"

He waves his hands, flapping the sleeves a little, and approaches the phone with a smile still on his face. He reaches for the phone and it falls over with him whispering 'oops.' "I've got such fucking sweater paws in this thing I can't even hold my phone. . . ."

He manages to right it, then flaps and shakes and pulls the sleeves until his fingers poke out enough to use. He fixes his hair where it got slightly mussed from pulling the sweater on, using the phone camera as a mirror, then fixes the other sleeve. "Also this thing is so warm. Like, crazy warm, it's not even an autumn sweater this is a winter sweater. I'm k--" Leo turns his head and looks at something off-camera, picking up his phone. He whispers, still sounding pretty amused. "Oh, shit."

The shot cuts to Leo from slightly below, partially obscured by the sweater blocking the view. He's walking, smile catlike.

"What're you doing in here." Alan's gruff voice is heard, although he's not seen. Leo shrugs.

"I had to go to the bathroom. Yours was the closest I could be sure was clean."

". . .get out. Don't just come in here without permission."

"Okay~!" Leo beams, trotting past. "Try locking your door next time~!"

Leo walks into the hall and the door is shut behind him. He makes a befuddled face and holds his phone out so the camera can see that he's still wearing Alan's pilfered sweater. He holds his other hand out in a confused position, then gestures to the outfit, mouthing the words 'why didn't he say anything' before starting to grin, giggling quiet and airily. The video cuts out.

The comments cheered for Leo's cuteness and asked about the sweater. Leo comments that it's a very, very warm sweater and he probably won't even be able to wear it until winter. For autumn he'll probably have to get another one of Sho's as usual. A few comments expressed jealousy at Leo getting to wear a 'boyfriend sweater' and, of course, asked what exactly his relationship was with Alan that Alan didn't question him wearing his clothes at all.

Leo has since taken the sweater off and hidden it in his own closet for when it gets really cold around here. He could easily buy his own oversized clothes. . .but where was the fun in that?

[hold-him-down]

Belleview Chapter One: Welcome to Belleview

Notes: ~11 years after the beginning of The Fighter, this is not a Luke/Leo story but is in-universe.

TW: Institutionalized slavery, nonsexual nudity, starvation mention, human euthanasia mention, degrading language, all the things.

✥ ✥ ✥

From the outside, it is a beautiful campus. Elegant in its simplicity, with three brick buildings forming a crescent at the mouth of a long, rose-bush lined drive that intersects wrought iron gates.

Today, police swarm it, more for the optics than anything else. They’re not here to enact change, or to start building moral credit, but they are here, and so he smiles, shakes hands, introduces himself.

He opens the double-paned glass door, which sits just in front of a set of reinforced steel bars, and he’s immediately met with the silence of a reception area from which all of its workforce has been escorted out. 

Almost all.

“Lincoln Prescott?” says a singular man, in his mid-twenties on his best day, peeking around the corner. He’s nervous, skittish even. Fidgeting palms run down his sweater and he smiles, but it’s not the smile of someone who’s happy, welcoming, comfortable, warm. 

Lincoln returns the gesture and nods. He doesn’t extend his hand. Instead, he turns over the key he’s just been handed, and he reads the man’s name-tag.

Jared Fisher, Handler. Level Two. 

Jared smiles sheepishly and takes off the name-badge. “I wasn’t sure if I should wear it. I guess… I guess it’s not really needed anymore.” He holds it out to Lincoln, who stares at it for several seconds, before he sets it on the counter behind him.

“Uh,” Jared says, cutting through the silence of the massive waiting area. “I’m sorry. I know, I’m sure, that you’re not– I get it, I mean. I know I’m the enemy here.” 

Lincoln narrows his eyes, shaking his head once. 

“They said if I– Uhh, they said they’ll take it into c– consideration, I guess. When the trials start. When… whatever is going to happen, happens.” He swallows, and Lincoln feels something that is related to sympathy, but not quite it. He lets that feeling fizzle quickly. “I didn’t mean to hurt anyone," Jared says quietly. 

There’s silence again. Lincoln lets it settle over him, watching the ex-handler’s fidgeting intensify, before he says, “Oh. You’re waiting for me to speak.” 

Jared shrinks.

When the final nail in the coffin of support for the trade and consumption of government-sanctioned slavery had been hammered in, there wasn’t the type of frenzy that anyone expected. That morning, people, by and large, woke up, had their coffee, showered. They caught their trains to work, they read their news and they watched, closely, but there wasn’t an uproar. They stole glances at their phones and monitors for updates, for news, for what happens next. 

Truth be told, it had been heading this way for a while. Within the last ten years, individual states had begun passing legislation that, in hindsight, paved the path for widespread challenges to the system, led by a few congresspeople who finally woke the fuck up. Things turned violent early, with protests, rallies, boycotts, demonstrations… everything imaginable. 

Videos of workers being tortured, followed by videos of workers recounting their own stories, began making national headlines. Consumers of workers’ labor fought hard to sway public opinion back to the positive outcomes the system had brought the country, but with each passing week, with each new video of a worker strapped to a table being violated in unimaginable ways, it was a losing battle.

As local legislation was passed, certain states became a kind of safe-haven for runaways. And eventually, things started going federal. 

The most significant bill, the one that fully outlawed the use of worker labor and reinstated the ‘freedom’ of current workers, was going to be codified that morning. It wasn’t unexpected, at that point, but still, the infrastructure, the plan, was… well, it had holes, to say the least.

The workers who were deemed functional, by some arbitrary metric, would be relocated to massive government-owned housing units. They would share rooms by the half dozen, be fed, given medical attention, and slowly be reintegrated into society. No one knew exactly how that would work, but it had been successful in the states that had already outlawed worker labor (with some notable exceptions), so the plan, half-assed as it was, was set into motion.

Former safehouses were repurposed as halfway houses for those who were less “independent.”

Individual volunteers were gathered who would open their homes to those who were unable to care for themselves but didn't pose any significant safety or medical risk.

In the days leading up to the vote for reinstatement of worker rights, when it was clear how things were going to go, people did go into a frenzy. Hospitals scrambled to hire, doctor’s offices scrambled to modify policy, the call for volunteers to offer shelter, food, medical assistance, jobs… it was madness.

But that morning, the morning the final nail landed, it was quiet.

Jared leads Lincoln down a narrow hallway, spouting off information as he does. The linoleum tiled floor is clean, but peels around the edges. The walls are white, chipped along the corners and where the doorframes meet the drywall. The ceiling is white, but there’s a yellow cast. The fluorescent lights that line the halls give it a sort of eerie post-apocalyptic vibe, and it’s fitting.

The building, Belleview, is eerily quiet. There’s no obvious screaming coming from within, so it’s already better than he expected. 

Jared slaps his keycard against a box outside a set of double doors, and Lincoln takes a breath. The volunteers are gathering outside by now. His group of nurses, doctors, caretakers. They could be with him, but he wanted this run-through alone. To give him time to make sure the plan that he spent the last week finessing would work.

Jared stops at the first door, and pushes a button outside of it, bringing to life a screen. There’s a name on the top, and Lincoln glances through the information he’s shown. Jared presses another button, and the door unlocks audibly, the light above it turning from red to green.

Inside is a man, with nothing else. Brown hair, blue eyes. He doesn’t look at them. 

“This one can get aggressive.” Jared’s voice is matter of fact, as he points out the information on the tablet. “They come here to… you know, to be of whatever use they can be until they…” he whispers, and Lincoln offers him the briefest of glances. He regrets it immediately. “Expire.”

Lincoln turns his attention back to the screen, and so Jared continues. “We have 21, uh… residents, right now. I think that’s what we’re supposed to call them now. They were… well, you know. They were workers, but the rejects, I guess. They’re in… they’re in various states of um…”

Lincoln clears his throat tersely, throwing a warning glance to the ex-handler. 

“Well, okay. I’m sure you’ve been briefed, and if not, I’m sure you will be.” He begins walking again, letting the last door close without another glance, as he approaches the next. “We tried to take as good of care of them as we could. They’re fed and watered and we tried to... whenever we could, some of us tried to offer them some comfort.”

He stops at the door. “Obviously, they’re here for a reason, so they don’t tend to be super… uh, super cooperative or trainable or anything. They’re usually just… they’re here for a short time, and then–” He stops himself this time, without the warning glance.

“We call this guy Tank, but I think his real name is Tyler, if that means anything to you.” 

Lincoln nods. “Does it say here? Anywhere on here? What his name is?”

Jared fiddles with the screen for several seconds before it comes to a demographic page. It lists 20 inhabitants, and presumably, their room numbers. 

“Look at that,” Jared says then, interrupting Lincoln’s review. “Looks like I was right, it is Tyler. That was a guess.”

Lincoln takes a breath, because there’s no benefit to causing a scene here. If Jared was offered leniency, then he was a handler who, at least on the surface, wasn’t as bad as he could have been. 

“Anyway, this one used to be aggressive, too." The door opens and Jared gestures to the man who lays on his stomach, bandages across his back. "But now? Nothing going on in there.” He points to his own temples, and lets the door swing shut. He switches to the video feed, where Tyler stares into the camera.

Jared continues along to the next room, and Lincoln follows behind him, his thoughts racing.

Lincoln Prescott was already in his car on his way to the site he’d been assigned to oversee before they even finalized things in the White House. It’s a temporary solution to a very serious problem, they said. It would take ten to fifteen days to get those who were in no shape to get to a halfway house the medical attention they needed and find suitable placements for them. 

In the meantime, they were safest where they were. He was needed to help organize the volunteers and medical personnel, and to act as a sort of director of the temporary housing facility.

So he drove. He knew it would be bad, maybe the worst of the worst. He had been briefed. He was given a stack of files of the inhabitants that he would be overseeing. He looked it over that night, and every night since then. He spent the last six days memorizing every face, every backstory.

It was a site to house those that the government had deemed unable to be placed, for one reason or another. Too violent, too unpredictable, too difficult to be trained. From what Lincoln could gather, these workers served any and all purposes. Their primary reason for existence was, it seemed, to trial training techniques, to trial drugs, to motivate the workers who were difficult, to show that there were worse fates.

They ranged in ages from 19-26. None survived longer. 

“Doctor Prescott?” Jared asks, from somewhere far away. Lincoln looks up from the tablet, and Jared is already down the hall at the next door. Lincoln takes a breath, biding his time. They’ve gone through eighteen of the men, with Jared's special commentary on each of them. Twice, Jared had promised that he wasn't a bad person, and that the culture had been one thing, but now it was another, and he was ready to pivot.

Only once had Lincoln felt himself snap, and had to excuse himself before serious harm was done.

Some of the men were given the accommodation of a bed, some of them were given clothing, some had rotten food in their cells, some had broken bones, open wounds. Some slept fitfully, and some slept so completely still that Lincoln thought that they might not be alive at all. Jared had assured him, in those moments, that they probably were.

Jared opens the door to the twentieth room, with a small, “We call this one ‘Felix.’ I think you’ll like him,” as he does. The man, short blonde hair and dark brown eyes and at least forty pounds less than his frame should support, blinks himself awake. He sits in the corner of the tiny room and stares at Lincoln. He tries to smile, but the tremors that rock his body make it hard to buy. He doesn't wear any clothes, and has one of the DLS-issued shock collars affixed to his neck. His ribs shake when he breathes too deep, but again, he tries to smile, even as he backs further into the corner.

Jared is speaking to him, but Lincoln doesn’t clock exactly what’s being said. The man looks so afraid, but still, he lifts his fingers in a sort of wave, shaking as he does. Lincoln waves back, offering him a small smile in return.

“We’re not allowed to euthanize them,” Jared is saying. 

“What?” 

“When they hit the end, I mean. We have to give them enough food, give them enough water. If they choose to stop eating or drinking or… whatever, that’s on them. We can’t assist them. Once they’re too far gone, sometimes we’ll just stop trying to get them to eat, and let them go.”

He thought, by now, that he’d heard it all. His eyes widen. “Is that where we’re at with him?”

Jared shrugs. “He’s sick. The director said he’s gonna go any day now, but it’s better if we don’t directly cause that.”

Lincoln doesn’t attempt to keep the hatred out of his eyes.

“He knows,” Jared says. “They all do. Once we stop pulling them for testing, it’s only a matter of time. He wants you to pull him, though,” he continues. “He wants to know it’s not his time yet. He wants to show you he can still be of use. He doesn’t really speak anymore, but he tries to be sweet, so we will keep him in rotation.”

“Stop talking,” Lincoln says then, his fist in a tight ball but, remarkably, not around the man’s throat. Jared’s mouth snaps shut. 

“Show me the last one, and then you’re finished here.” 

As they retreat away from the man’s cell, the door closes behind them, and Lincoln watches the hope leave his eyes.

They make quick work of the last door, and the weasley man leads Lincoln back through the main wing, mumbling about how there were several wings they didn’t tour, but he at least got to see all the residents, and how if he has questions, he is more than happy to take a call, day or night, and how… 

✥ ✥ ✥

The volunteers stand in a haphazard group, each with a color coded name-badge to at least give Lincoln a starting point as to their role. He begins by directing the doctors and nurses to rooms, providing instructions on how to access the rooms, providing instructions on how to access the medical files, providing whatever information he can.

They’re working on finding placements for each of these boys, he tells them. But they all require intensive, specific treatment. As they find placements, they’ll be housed, and once they’ve placed the last boy, the volunteers will be reassigned.

As the last of the volunteers heads inside to get their own bearings, Lincoln takes a step back, regarding the innocuous building. 

“I guess that’s that,” Jared says from behind him, taking a step forward and extending his hand out once more. Lincoln looks down at it, shoving his hands into his pockets, as Jared mumbles,  “Welcome to Belleview.”

UNTITLED SYSTEM COLLAPSE STORY TAGLIST: @pigeonwhumps @peachy-panic @whump-cravings

[bakedbakermom]

Enough.

Rated X / 4800 words / tagging @today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr / posted on ao3

Summary: Dana Scully has had enough.

Author's Note: This is the first fanfic I have written, in this or any other fandom, for almost 20 years. It felt great to stretch the old muscles, and I hope you enjoyed it. Comments will be printed, laminated, and hung on the wall <3

_________

God, I only meant to kiss him, Scully thought, gasping, before Mulder’s tongue swirled around her nipple and she lost the ability to think.

And it was true - thoughts of kissing Mulder had been brewing deep in her core for weeks, crowding out her ability to think of much else. She had found herself watching his mouth when she should have been listening to his words, and feeling vaguely envious of everything that touched his lips. He brought them some truly terrible vending machine coffee during an all-nighter at a crummy hotel in the midwest, and the way his tongue had toyed with the little opening on the lid as he waited for it to cool made her thighs clench. In yet another rental car on yet another nameless backroad, she watched his jaw work as he split the shells of his favorite sunflower seeds, wondering how that sharp tongue that worked them so deftly open would feel in her own mouth, if he would taste of salt and beer. He licked barbecue sauce from his fingers at an all-night diner in the middle of nowhere, his tongue swirling around tips, and she had nearly choked on her iced tea.

Oh yes, thoughts of kissing Mulder had been occupying her more and more. And from the way he would catch her eye, sending her an almost imperceptible smirk each time he saw her watching, he knew exactly the effect he was having on her. She kept waiting for him to stop being such a gentleman, to take that first bold step the way he so often did. But each time she felt that line rising up to be crossed, he pulled away.

And Dana Scully had had enough.

She’d decided tonight, as she rode up the elevator for one of their not-a-date-nights that had become their post-case norm of late, that she was ready - or more accurately, that she was so far past ready that she might actually die if she didn’t kiss him soon. She brought wine - nothing too fancy, nothing that would be out of place in the mismatched glasses he kept in the cabinet, but a step up from the usual ales and lagers they usually shared. And she wore a soft v-neck sweater cut just a tad lower than she would usually wear, the better to show off the enticing cleavage her new bra presented. 

When she had slipped into the matching panties, she had very firmly told herself it was simply a personal preference for symmetry, and not any sort of statement about where this desperately-needed kiss would lead.

From the moment he popped Tarantula into the VCR (for the fourth time, “It’s a classic, Scully!”), she had begun planning her move. She drained her first glass of wine faster than she should have, before he’d even finished making the popcorn, letting the liquid courage percolate through her system. He settled in beside her with a large bowl in his lap, loaded with butter and salt just how she likes it, just the way he’s talked her into liking it; and she eased herself slowly closer to him on the worn leather couch until the heat of his thigh pressed against her own. By the time Leo G. Carrol’s assistant went up in flames, she was nestled quite cozily against him. She watched him from the corner of her eye, and saw with some satisfaction that he was watching her as well. 

She had never let herself get quite this close to him before, or at least not without some life-threatening context. (Except for that time on the baseball diamond, when she thought maybe this was it, but he had done nothing more than flirt and hit pop-flies and leave her flushed and frustrated).

But there were no invisible forest men now, no cultists armed with rifles, no bees or beasts or black-suited thugs. Just them, and a cheesy sci-fi movie, and a bowl of popcorn in his lap so that each time she reached for a handful she was acutely aware of just what lay beneath it; with each bite he would slowly lick the salt from his lips, and something in her heart would sputter. She had the sudden sense he was doing it on purpose - that he knew exactly what she was thinking, and as always, their minds were traveling down the same road together.

When the giant spider crested the dry scrubby hills surrounding Desert Rock, Arizona, to devour the hero, he had draped his arm across the back cushions, the very picture of a nervous teenager at the drive-in. She took the chance to move more closely still, the heat and the scent of him nearly overwhelming. Her heartbeat seemed to thrum through every inch of her body, and she felt certain he could feel it through her skin. She had stopped watching the screen entirely, unable to concentrate on anything but the pounding of her heart and the body of the man beside her. When she couldn’t stand it another second, she took one last breath for courage, turned in the circle of his arm, and tilted up to press her mouth to his.

The first brush of their lips was tentative, soft, toe-curlingly tender and if he tasted like wine and popcorn instead of seeds and beer, well, she was absolutely not complaining. When his tongue brushed against her lower lip, she opened for him, and the way his tongue slid into her mouth felt like coming home. Scully had thought that it would be enough just to kiss him, just  to sit together on the creaking leather of his old couch, under the warm, scratchy weight of the Navajo blanket he kept there more for her sake than for his, and languidly lap at the font of his mouth until morning. 

What she hadn’t anticipated, but in hindsight should have known based on years of observing his oral fixation, was that Fox Mulder would be an absolutely amazing kisser. He was slow and exploratory and unrelenting, running his tongue along her teeth and her lips and the roof of her mouth as if he could read her desires written there in braille. He nibbled at her lower lip and suckled at the upper and still she really could have just kissed, just necked him like a teenager for hours, until he cupped her jaw with one wide hand and his thumb brushed against the pulse point in her throat and she whimpered. Actually whimpered, a wholly unexpected, desperate, animal sound that she would have found utterly embarrassing had he not answered with a soft growl that reverberated down her throat and straight into her pelvis, and it was all bets off from there.

A whirl of hands and mouths and somehow she is lying half beneath him, his shirt gone and her sweater pushed up and that pretty new bra pulled down to expose one rosey-peaked breast to the dual pleasures of his hand and his mouth. When her knee brushes against his growing erection, he bites her nipple just hard enough to make her gasp. He chuckles into her skin and looks up to meet her eyes, delighted to find her pupils blown out with lust and her cheeks turning a beautiful shade of pink. Her fingers curl in his hair and pull; he releases her nipple with a sinfully wet pop and crashes his mouth into hers with a force that clacks their teeth together.

He rolls her over his body until she’s straddling him, heat blooming everywhere they touch. The soft springy hairs of his chest tickle her oversensitive skin, and he runs his hands from her shoulders, down the fine curve of her waist to grip and knead at the firm flesh of her ass. She scratches her nails across the broad plains of his shoulders - softly at first, then more firmly when he hums his assent into her mouth. The muscles of his back flex beneath her hands, and his whole body shudders as she moves them to his front, his nipples pebbling beneath her touch.

He pulls her down against him and presses up at the same time, trying to find some relief for the near-painful ache in his groin. She moans into his mouth and he does it again, and she arches against him in pleasure.

Mulder uses this distraction to pull her top off all the way, unclasping her bra with one hand and bringing his mouth back to her breast before the fabric has even hit the floor. She writhes above him, panting and gasping as he learns the right combination of lips, teeth, and tongue to make her shudder. Always such a curious mind, single-focused and driven, now turned to uncovering the mysteries of her body, and she revels in being the object of his obsession.

“I want you, Scully,” he whispers as he moves to the other breast. She arches into his mouth but doesn’t answer.

He stills, eyes wary, that lost little boy inside peeking through. Waiting for rejection, waiting for her to say it was all a mistake and walk away. With their height difference, their eyes are level now even with her straddling his lap. He brushes a lock of hair out of her eyes and gently thumbs her cheekbones. The sadness in his voice is palpable.  “Do you want to stop?” 

She shakes her head just slightly, her brows knitting together and her mouth moving into a particular smirk that, in the complex language of Scully Microexpressions, means I need a second to find the right words. His hands skim along her sides, walking the line between comforting, tickling, and arousing. It takes a few deep breaths before she remembers how to speak; the last one comes out on a shudder as she presses her lips to his forehead. 

The credits are rolling on the TV across the room, the monster immolated and the town safe; shadows flicker over their faces as she looks into his eyes, unsurprised to find a sheen of unshed tears there that matches her own. She had thought that meeting his gaze after they had kissed - or, more accurately, after he had her nipple in his mouth and his erection pressing against her - might be awkward, but like everything else between them the last seven years, it somehow feels natural. They’re stepping across this line together.

“I don’t want to stop, Mulder,” she whispers, nuzzling along his nose, “I’ve just been thinking about kissing you for so long, I never really let myself think about what might come after.”

“Mmm,” he hums into her skin, peppering her face with kisses before moving down her neck and along her collarbone. “Good thing I have.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow lifts; he can hear it in her voice even though his face is buried in her hair.

“Often, and in great detail.” His lips find that same pulse point, right where her jaw meets her throat, and he grins as her thighs squeeze his. One hand cups the back of her head, tilting her this way and that so his mouth can reach every possible inch of skin; the other hand comes up to her breast, kneading and rolling. She is soft and pliant above him, allowing him to explore, making soft sounds each time he finds a sensitive spot, and his profiler’s mind is tucking each one away for later.

“Tell me,” she pants as he presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat. She slips her hand between them and presses her palm against the thick ridge of his erection, grinning as he moans into her skin. “Show me.”

"Christ, Scully. Where should I begin?" Mulder presses another kiss to her lips, so soft and tender she forgets how to breathe for a moment. He sips at her like fine wine, savoring each taste of her tongue, her lips, the ivory ridge of her teeth. By the time he pulls back she is shivering, aching to see what happens next.

"There is one thing I fantasize about quite frequently," he husks close to her ear. The scratch of his stubble is intoxicating. "I can't stop wondering what you taste like." He reaches between them to cup her, hot and throbbing, through her slacks, and her blushing nod is the only answer she can manage.

All she can do is moan in anticipation as he leans her slowly back, supporting the full weight of her in his arms, until her shoulders come to rest on the arm of the couch, his body nestled hard and hot between her trembling thighs. 

She will never again be able to smell leather without remembering this moment.

He kisses his way down her body with a slow deliberation that borders on agonizing, nipping and sucking and licking every inch he can reach. When his tongue swirls into the dip of her navel she nearly cries with pleasure. He runs his teeth over the ridge of her hip bones as he parts the zipper on her slacks. His mouth leaves her body only long enough to shuck the pants to the floor, and then he is nosing along the hem of her panties. 

"Fuck, Scully, I can smell you." He runs his fingers over the lacy fabric, scraping his nails along the gusset until she shakes. "You're so wet, you're soaking through."

With anyone else she might have felt embarrassed, but Mulder's words only enflame her further. She rolls her hips, shamelessly rubbing herself against him. "Please," she pants, "please touch me."

He laughs darkly, continuing to run his fingers slowly up and down the length of her slit, and rubs his stubble against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs. He licks her, once, over the lace, and she bucks desperately towards his mouth. “Easy there, G-woman,” he murmurs, pressing her back down with one firm hand on her hip. “I’m living my dream, here.”

She laughs, a short huff that eases some of the tension in her gut, and tries to relax into his ministrations. He smiles as she softens beneath him, and rewards her by sliding one long finger under the sheer scrap of fabric, just barely grazing her entrance. “So wet,” he says again. 

He looks up to see that her eyes have fluttered closed. “Look at me,” he says, and when she finds enough will to meet his eyes, he lifts his finger, glistening with her wetness, into his mouth and sucks deeply. "You're just as sweet as I imagined."

“Fuck,” she whimpers, and knows she is dripping. “More. Please.”

Apparently he renders her monosyllabic.

“How much do you love these?” he asks, appraising the delicate lace, the tiny stitches along the seams.

“Not at all. Hate them. Please.” She is gasping, writhing, and when he rips her panties off she nearly keens with pleasure.

He stares at her for so long she begins to feel nervous, and a flush creeps up her chest and floods her cheeks. He takes in the auburn thatch of curls between her thighs, the dark pink swell of her labia, the tiny freckles sprinkled across the creamy expanse of her skin. He drags his fingers down the length of her slit, marveling at the way her lower lips spread for him, at the moisture leaking from her sweet little cunt. “Beautiful,” he breathes.

“Mulder,” she huffs, squirming, “if you don’t quit staring and touch me soon, I’m going to shoot you. Again.”

A quick grin and then his mouth is on her, his tongue lapping at the entrance to her sex, and the first brush of his lips over her clit nearly sends her over the edge. 

If the way he kissed her felt obsessive, he eats her out with something that borders on worship.

He slides one long finger inside her, then another, curling them against her front wall until he finds the spot that makes her gush and shake around him. He flicks his tongue over the hardened nub of her clitoris - slow, fast, gentle, hard - and she fists her hands in his hair when it’s just the right combination. He presses the hood back with his thumb and suckles directly on the little bundle of nerves; her belly coils tight with pleasure and she manages to gasp, “Yes, there, I’m so close, oh -” before she can’t make sense anymore.

He swirls and suckles on her clit, pumping gently in and out with his fingers, and experimentally runs his little finger down her perineum to brush gently over the tight pucker of her asshole. She shudders and her whimpers reach a new, higher pitch. He hums his satisfaction into her dripping sex, and that’s all it takes - she is gone, shaking and gasping and making strangled little cries that might be his name.

Mulder continues to lap tenderly at her sex as she comes down, riding out tremors and trembles until she is heavy-limbed and boneless beneath him. Her smile looks almost drunken as she cards her fingers through his hair. “Good, Scully?” he asks, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.

She nods and hums, riding a cloud of oxytocin. He eases out from between her legs; her smile begins to fade into confusion until he slides one arm beneath her knees and the other behind her back, lifting her easily, and carries her down the hall to his bedroom.

His sheets are softer than she had expected, as if he had been hoping for company; she wonders if this is the first time he has prepared a bed for them, how many movie nights he has slept alone on these soft sheets after the door snicked shut behind her without so much as a kiss. The thought strikes a surprisingly sad chord in her heart.

The bed dips as he settles in beside her, and she curls into his open arms with a happy sigh. “A girl could get used to this,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“I sure hope she does,” he answers.

She drapes one of her legs over his and - “Oh.” She lifts the sheet and sees he somehow still has his jeans on, and is still sporting a rather impressive tent. “You appear to be overdressed,” she teases.

“Don’t worry about me, Scully. This has already been so much more than I -”

She puts a finger over his lips and shoots him one of her more serious looks. “Mulder. Shut up.”

And, for perhaps the first time in his life, he does.

Scully’s legs are still a little weak as she climbs on top of him, rubbing herself shamelessly over the bulge in his pants. She’s wet again already and hungry for him in a way she hasn’t felt in years. Her hair falls around them in an amber curtain as she leans down to kiss him, long and slow and deep. He’s grinning like an idiot by the time she pulls away, and she decides that looking down on Mulder may be her new favorite place to be. 

She grinds down harder with her hips, the seam of his jeans pressing right where she wants it the most. He moans, trying not to buck beneath her and throw off her rhythm. He has to clench his fists in the sheets. She’s making a wet spot on his pants; he’ll have to wash them - and the sheets, and the couch - in the morning, but he couldn’t care less about any of that because Scully’s breasts are bouncing just in front of his face and she is writhing on top of him like an animal in heat. He reaches for her hips, trying to get just a little more pressure, but she grabs his wrists and holds them down.

“Nuh-uh,” she huffs. “You made me beg. Now it’s your turn.” She waits until he stops trying to lift his hands, then rakes her nails down his chest, leaving little streaks of pink in their wake.

“Fuck, Scully,” he moans, throwing his head back and thrusting up with his hips, which only makes her lift herself away. “I don’t know how much of this I can take.”

She only casts him a wicked grin before lowering her mouth to his, plunging her tongue deep inside and moaning. He is the first to break away, gasping for breath, and she waits for his eyes to find hers before she leaves a trail of hot, wet kisses down the length of his torso. He is not as sensitive as she had been, though he does jump when she runs her tongue across the firm plains of his stomach. She finds the fine trail of dark hair beneath his navel and nips and sucks her way down it until it ends at the waist of his pants.

He expects her to undo the fly and pull them off, but instead she rubs her cheek against the stiff bulge of his cock, as if to mark it with her scent. She catches his eye again, to make sure he is watching, and then runs her tongue slowly over the full length of it. She can taste herself on the fabric and is surprised at how erotic it is.

“God, Scully. Please.”

“Mmm,” she hums against him and thumbs open the button on his fly. “Begging. I see the appeal.” She slides one hand under the waistband and scratches through the coarse hair just above his cock.

“I would get on my knees but I think something might break off.”

“Then allow me.”

She kneels between his legs, pulling down his zipper and shimmying his soft jeans down the length of his legs. She has a moment to wonder at the fact that he doesn’t appear to be wearing any boxers - does he go commando in general these days, or, like the sheets, was he hoping for something to happen tonight? - and then her eyes land on his cock and she forgets how to think.

She’s seen him naked before, of course, but always under the guise of a medical professional. Glimpsing his body while treating injury or disease is one thing. Never has she seen him hard, and now faced with the full monty - or rather, the full Mulder - she is only slightly more impressed than intimidated. She takes him in her hand, pumping up and down slowly, and a small bead of precum leaks from the purple tip. Her heart jumps, her mouth begins to water, and she licks her lips as she realizes it’s all for her.

“Oh Christ, don’t do that,” he moans, eyes glued to her mouth. “I’m trying to be cool here.” So of course she stares into his eyes, parts her lips, and then very slowly runs her tongue in a full circle around them.

He’s about to say something else but it cuts off with a gurgle when she takes him into her mouth. He’s too big to take in too deeply just yet, but she licks the tip of him like an ice cream cone, her tongue moving in lazy circles as she pumps him languidly with one hand. The other comes up beneath to cup the soft weight of his balls. He is salty and tangy and strangely sweet, and she moans as the taste of him floods her senses. She is so aroused it’s almost painful, and she wishes she had a third hand so she could touch herself as she sucks him. She takes him deeper, surprised at how much she enjoys this - the twitching of his thighs as he tries not to thrust, the way he is moaning her name between strings of curse words, the startling way his cock bumps against the back of her throat.

She’s just beginning to wonder if she can relax her throat enough to swallow him further down when Mulder’s hands land suddenly in her hair, pulling her mouth away from him with a wet and undignified slurping sound. “Hey,” she protests, donning an exaggerated and teasing pout. Her mouth and chin glisten with a mix of saliva and precum. “I was enjoying that.”

He sits up and slides his fingers between her legs. “I can tell,” he says, circling her clit and making her gasp. “And don’t get me wrong, I was too. But…”

He pulls her up the length of his body until she is nestled in his lap, her thighs braced on either side of his and his cock only inches from the wet heat of her cunt. “Please, Scully.”

“More begging?,” she purrs as she takes him in her fist again. She shifts so she can rub the tip of him between her wet and swollen folds until he moans. She positions him right against her entrance, his tip just barely inside. “Is this what you want?” she pants. For all the playfulness in her voice, she is trembling with want, and shudders as she feels herself dripping around him.

“Yes,” he hisses into her ear, crushing her tight against him and pressing his hips up. He slips another inch inside her. “Fuck me, Scully, please.” Another small thrust, another inch of her clenching around him.

Enough teasing, she decides. Enough begging. Enough waiting.

She doesn’t trust her voice not to break, so she only nods and kisses him as if she could devour him whole.

She slides down onto him slowly, adjusting to the width of him until he is buried to the hilt. They are both shaking now, their panting breaths a humid cloud between them. A long moment passes before she can move, before her body can handle the way he stretches and fills her. She is slow and deliberate, rising until he nearly slips from her body, then easing down to grind her clit against his pelvis. Waves of pleasure wash through her with each stroke, and she drops her head to his shoulder, overwhelmed.

He reaches down to cup her ass, spreading her wide and taking some control over her motion. They moan in unison as he begins to thrust in counterpoint to the slow roll of her hips.

It doesn’t take long before Scully begins to feel the flame of another orgasm kindle deep in her belly. The moan that comes from her throat belongs to another woman, one who is wild and wanton and apparently capable of coming more than once in a night; and oh how she wants to be that woman.

“Mulder,” she pants, “I need - I’m -” Another moan, and the coil inside her tightens further, closing off her ability to speak.

He understands, he always understands, licking his thumb and then sliding it between their sweating bodies to press hard against her clit. “Fuck, yes, Scully,” he says as she grinds down on his hand. “I want to feel you come.”

His mouth seeks out that same damn spot on her neck that started this whole thing, sucking and nibbling with the same rhythm of his thumb circling her clit. “Come for me, Scully,” he growls into her skin, and then bites down hard enough to bruise.

She shatters around him, bucking her hips wildly against him and muffling her cries of “Mulder, oh God, Mulder,” into his shoulder until she is hoarse. He tumbles over the edge right behind her, hot and pulsing, and the feel of his cock twitching as he fills her with his cum is nearly enough to set her off again.

They stay entwined for a long time, shudders passing back and forth between them, until their sweat cools and their mingled fluids begin to leak onto his thighs. 

Mulder leans back first, brushing damp hair from her face so he can look into her eyes. “Hey.”

Her answering smile is almost bashful, but there’s not an ounce of regret in it. “Hey.”

“So. Wine. Fancy underwear. That sweater.”

“No boxers,” she counters. “Clean, soft sheets?”

She quirks an eyebrow, he tilts his chin and smiles.

And just like that they are themselves, again, still, always, but now with a new layer of togetherness to explore. He moistens a washcloth in the bathroom sink and tenderly cleans them both, and they curl up on the soft - if rumpled and damp - sheets together.

They do not share “I love you”s. Not tonight. Not yet. But they both feel it in the brush of the other’s fingers, taste it in the tenderness of the last kiss they share before falling asleep together.

And that is enough.

[bellysoupset]

OMG, the strep throat fix is so good!! Any chance for a part 2???!

LETS GOOOOO

Part 2 bc I thought of a way to use it for Part 3 🙈 Queen of self control.

------------------

"This is so embarrassing," Leo grumbled, rolling on the couch and pressing his feverish face to Jonah's tummy, voice coming out even more muffled by his sweater.

He felt, more than heard, his boyfriend chuckle, a hand resting on Leo's shoulder. The movement caused the sweater to slightly suffocate him, which would've been fine any other day, but given that he could only breathe through his mouth since his nose was stuffed, it caused a coughing fit and Leo sprung up.

He coughed and coughed until his ribs hurt, a horrible taste flooding his mouth and his head spinning from the lack of oxygen. The hot soup he had had for dinner tickling his throat, but Leo swallowed it back down.

It was embarrassing enough that he had crashed into Wendy's apartment five hours earlier than he should be, sick, and had caused Vince to stay behind from hanging out with his girlfriend. It was mortifying that he had to shower in her private bathroom, just to bring the fever down. Leo didn't want to add throwing up in her couch to the list of offenses.

"Here," Wendy's voice broke through the fog and Leo wiped at his eyes. It felt like they were burning and his head was throbbing. He really wanted to go home, but after all the stress he had put Jonah through in the morning, Leo was willing to sit around since the other man seemed to be genuinely enjoying himself.

Normally Vince's personality — earnest, warm, positive —, brought out all the sass Jonah had. It wasn't that he didn't love the guy, Leo knew damn well that wasn't case, it was just that he couldn't help the sarcasm with someone who was so sincere. However, that wasn't the case today.

Leo wasn't sure if the fever was playing tricks on him, but it seemed like Jon had forgotten his walls at the door... He had missed Vince, even if he would never say it out loud.

"What?" Leo asked tiredly, pressing the heel of his hand to his forehead and rubbing at it, as if he could remove the pain. Wendy sat near his foot on the couch, holding a metal tin.

"I knew I had this somewhere," she said, showing him the case and Leo stared at it, his brain refusing to cooperate.

"Vicks VapoRub?" Jonah sounded amused, "that's some mum stuff."

Wendy rolled her eyes at him, opening the tin, "lean back, Leo," she instructed and Leo frowned, instead of obeying.

He blinked owlishly at her, "I'm fine," the rasp sounded ridiculous even to his own ears and Jonah let out a scoff, while Wendy completely ignored him, pushing him back against his boyfriend.

"Get his shirt?" She asked, grabbing a dollop of the gel and Leo's frown deepened as he felt Jonah's hands pulling his shirt up.

"What the- No!" Leo whined when Wendy promptly smeared the gel on his naked chest. His whole face burnt with embarrassment and he brought his hands up, angrily covering his face, "this is so humiliating."

"You're really not my type, don't worry," Wendy teased him, "I don't do blondes," she continued to spread the gel around. Leo felt Jon press a kiss to his temple, but he still didn't pull back his hand, hoping the ground would open and swallow him. He couldn't believe he was getting rubbed down by Wendy, of all people.

"Shut up," Leo groaned, then whined when Jon pushed his hands down. Wendy was grinning at him, her cheeks pink and her green eyes alight with mischief.

"Leo, relax," she rubbed the gel up to his clavicle, her cold fingers making goosebumps spring up and causing Leo to blush even more, if that was possible. He was sure he looked great, swimming in an old sweats set from Vince, with the large sweat shirt all but tucked under his chin; His hair had dried all weird and was sticking out as if he was part of a grunge rock band, and now Wendy was sitting near his hip, lathering him in minty gel.

He let out a heavy sigh and sniffled grossly, reaching to wipe at his raw nose with the sleeve, only for Jonah to manifest a soft tissue in front of him.

"D-anks," Leo mumbled, blowing his nose again and clutching the tissue in a fist when the action caused his head to swim again. He groaned and slumped on Jon's shoulder, breathing through his mouth, "this is horrible."

"I know," Jonah continued to hold him, almost halfway across his lap like an overgrown baby, "let's head home?"

Yes, Leo thought, but he could clearly tell Jon did not want a positive answer. Not with how large he was smiling. He shook his head no, closing his eyes.

"In a bit," Leo said, shivering as Wendy tugged his sweatshirt down and then the minty cream started to warm up his skin and unclog his nose. He cuddled up even closer to Jonah as he could, trying to melt in his arms.

"So you were saying about school?" Jon said, his voice a note lower, rumbling in his chest, "how are the kids treating you?"

"The little ones are easy," Vince answered and Leo heard a squeal, probably him grabbing Wendy and causing her to fall on his lap, on the opposite couch, "the seniors are a bit of an issue. I don't think they give much of a fuck about my class at all."

"I mean, I sure didn't give a fuck about my history classes," Jonah teased him, while Wendy interrupted with a delighted sigh.

"Tell him about the pies," Leo could clearly hear the smile in her voice and the smugness in Vince's as he answered.

"I got five different moms bringing me pie this week, as a welcoming gift to the school board."

Jonah laughed, "you're already getting bribes?"

"Not bribes," Wendy sounded more smug than Vince, "they're flirting with him."

"No way," Jonah, incredulous, eagerly sitting up and causing Leo to groan as it moved him. Immediately Jonah settled back down, combing his fingers through his hair, "sorry, sorry- No way?"

"Yes, way," Wendy scoffed, "he's the new hot teacher, did you expect anything less?"

"Hot is an overstatement," Jonah teased, while Vince chuckled.

"Go fuck yourself, Banks- Leo, do you want a blanket?"

Leo was nearly drifting off, but almost as if he had missed a step in a set of stairs, he jerked from the slumber, forcing his eyes open. His stomach felt weird and his head cottony, vision slightly fuzzy as he rolled on the couch in order to see his friend.

True to what he had guessed, Vince was sitting in the other couch, with Wendy perched on his thigh.

"Whaa-"

"Do you want a blanket?" Vin repeated the question, looking concerned and before Leo could nod in agreement, Jon interrupted.

"He's still really warm, better not."

Leo whined, whole face scrunching up. He was freezing. He dug his feet on the couch, burying them in the crack between futons, and curled up, trying to prove that he did need a blanket. Lucas would've gotten him one.

"No, he wouldn't," Jonah answered him with a huff and Leo frowned, confused and blinking drowsily, all his limbs feeling heavy.

"Uh...?"

"Go to sleep," Jon rolled his eyes, stroking his cheek, "I'll wake you in a bit."

"Mmm'kay," Leo sighed, leaning against the soft touch and vaguely hearing as Vince tried to argue with Jon and Wendy that one blanket surely wouldn't kill him... Then the words all became white noise and all Leo could feel was Jon running his fingers through his hair and suddenly a blanket being tucked around him by rougher, bigger hands.

[britt-kageryuu]

The stream was going with the camera up to show a large area of the studio.

The Turtles models are dressed in 'ugly' holiday sweaters, pajama pants, their bandanas, and slippers.

There's Christmas/Holiday music playing from a speaker close to the camera.

They had put up a fake pre-lit tree, and moved a fake fireplace heater into the studio area.

They had already changed the lights strung around the room to be multicolored, and spread out some fake snow blankets around the tree.

Raph has Mikey on his shoulders putting up Garland, Leo was setting up a miniature winter village on a previously empty desk in the corner, and Donnie was untangling a bundle of extra lights that were going into the kitchen.

Little cartoon versions of Shelldon and River were managing a rough schedule of when they Turtles would move the camera so that the Audience can see them set up the kitchen, and have a closer look as decorate the tree.

They were promised stories behind random ornaments that were mentioned during the start of the stream.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The camera has been moved closer to the tree. There are a few boxes of tree decorations scattered on the floor. Each Turtle has a box in front of them looking through the contents.

Leo let out a laugh and pulled an ornament that looked like a broken phone.

"Hey Dee, I found the one that April got you when we were kids!" He shouts to his sibling whi is literally 6ft away from him.

Donnie with an annoyed look analyzed the ornament, "Huh, I remember that. April almost never forgave me for taking apart her first phone. So she gave me that as a passive aggressive gesture of warning." They explain while getting up to take the ornament and place it on the tree.

Mikey grabs a bunch of baubles that have paint splatter on them, and starts placing them in seemingly spots on the tree. "Any sign of the home made ones we made?"

Raph pauses and pulls a chain of origami animals that were attached by tangled hooks, "Well I found these ones from your first paper folding phase." He carefully pulls them apart, trying to not tear or rip any of the pieces.

Leo pulls out a set of little sword ornaments, "Hey, I found the ones I bought after that training- camping trip we went on. The others are in here too!" He says while pulling out a few sets of weapons ornaments.

Each Turtle takes their personal weapon ornaments, and looked for spots to put them on the tree.

The audience notice that Raphs tail has Garland wrapped around it along with the origami ornaments. He turns slightly and swings his tail sending the decorations flying at the tree, where they land in good places. This leaves the audience confused on how they did that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They've finished decorating the tree, and moved the camera back so they can dramatically turn on the lights.

The parts that can be seen are amazing, and beautiful.

A noted addition of color coded stockings are hung by the fireplace heater, along with some very obviously repaired with duct tape Christmas decorations.

Then there's a slight pop crack sound, and all the lights go out. The stream is somehow still going, and some emergency lights kicked on in the room.

Donnie let's out a yet, and runs out of the room to check what went wrong.

The remaining Turtles turn to the camera.

"Well, we were going to end the stream now anyway." Raph begins to say.

Leo steps in from there, "So keep an eye out for a possible holiday schedule, because this is a very busy time of year, so we won't as much time to stream."

Mikey takes over, "So see you later Balemates! Stay Creative!"

Right before the stream ended Donnie can be heard letting out a loud yell, for what reason can be anyone's guess. Because no one will elaborate on what happened.

-----------------------

Masterpost

There was more planned for this, but I ended up not being able to get parts to sound right. The one note for that was a Gingerbread Subway Train with Turtle shaped cookies and a rat shaped cookie.

[snappedsky]

ROTTMNT: Retired Leo AU

Casey is awoken by a loud noise.

--

BOOM!

Casey is awoken with a sudden start and shoots upright. His wide eyes dart frantically around his dark room, his heart racing.

What was that noise? It was loud, whatever it was. And distant. An explosion? But from where? And how?

His mind races as he gets out of bed and looks out of his room. Everything is quiet in the lair, except for Raph’s snoring. Nobody else seems to have noticed the loud noise.

Did Casey just dream it? It wouldn’t be the first time he was woken by a nightmare. But normally he remembers his bad dreams. This time he remembers nothing; just the loud noise.

There’s no way he’ll be able to go back to sleep right now. He needs to settle his nerves. So he crosses the hall and slips past the curtain into Leonardo’s room.

“Sensei?” he says quietly.

The turtle is awake almost as soon as Casey enters, yawning as he sits up on his forearm. “What’s up, Case?”

“Did you hear-!”

*BOOM!*

There it is again! Casey nearly jumps out of his skin, looking around frantically. “Th-that! What was that? A-an explosion? Where’d it come from?”

Leonardo blinks with surprise then smiles with amusement as he stands up. “It’s alright, Casey,” he says gently, patting the boy’s shoulder. “It’s nothing bad, it’s just thunder.” “Thunder?” Casey questions.

“Yeah. Put on some shoes and a sweater and I’ll show you.”

Casey obliges as Leonardo pulls on a pair of sweat pants and the two of them leave the lair down one of the tunnels. They enter into the sewers and continue along until they reach the end of a large pipe looking out into the Hudson River.

It is absolutely pouring rain, pounding the river in sheets as it falls from the dark sky. Casey’s seen it rain a couple times since living in this new present, but never like this. He stares through the pipe grate in amazement when the sound goes off again.

*BOOM!*

The noise seems to rock the whole planet as a bright light flashes across the sky. It makes Casey jump again as he flinches back from the grate and into Leonardo’s chest.

[onemoregayapollokid]

Cat's Cradle

Summary: On request from their mom, Hecate's children needed help from Will. What should have been a easy test turned into something much more than that, and Leo is left taking care of a pet no one expected. Word Count: 4,000 words

A/N: This is my longest fic ever, with at least two more parts to it. As always, a huge thank you to my fiancee, @just-some-teag for proof reading this and giving insight. I couldn't have finished this without you.

Will glanced up as the door to the infirmary banged open, Lou Ellen looking frazzled. He was on his feet before she had even fully crossed the threshold, reaching automatically for his bag. 

“No injuries, Will, not this time,” She hurried to reassure him. “We need a different kind of help this time.” Will sat back down at his desk, gesturing for Lou Ellen to take a seat. Will had learned over the years never to agree to help until he had all the details. He had blindly agreed to too many things and ended up in a sticky situation. Lou Ellen sank down into the chair opposite Will, tucking a leg underneath her. 

“What’s up?” Will asked. 

“Remember my mom came to camp last week?” Lou Ellen asked. Will nodded. Seeing gods at camp might be more common nowadays than it was in the past, but it still causes quite a stir when one shows up.

Lou Ellen continued, “Well, she was asking for our help; she heard from Hermes of the possibility of a liquid that could temporarily give the drinker powers of various animals.”

“So, a potion?” Will asked, dubious. 

“No- not a potion, it’s more like a…. Okay, yeah, a potion,” Lou Ellen admitted, rolling her eyes at Will as he laughed. 

“So, what did your mom need your help with?” Will asked. 

“Hermes wouldn’t tell her how to make the potion, so she asked us to help her figure it out. We think we figured it out; our tests so far have worked, but they have been on other animals and not humans, which is, in fact, our target demographic. But because every single one of us worked on it, Mom doesn't think we can ingest it. She said that because we used our abilities to create it- our magic, if you will- it just won’t affect us. We need to test this before using it on other campers, but we can’t test it. I know it’s a lot to ask, and if I had any other choice, I wouldn’t be here, but you are both the most experienced year-rounder and also the calmest one here.”

“Yeah, I’ll be your guinea pig,” Will responded, pushing himself to stand up again. 

“Oh, really, Will? You are the best!” Lou Ellen exclaimed, rushing to embrace Will. He laughed and hugged her back. 

“Just let me tell Leo where I’m going, and then I’m all yours,” Will said, grabbing his sweater from the hook and shrugging into it easily. He led the way to the Bunker, ducking under assorted half-finished projects scattered across the Bunker. 

“Hey, Solace! Hey, Lou!” Leo’s muffled voice came from behind a large piece of sheet metal. His head popped into view a moment later, oil smeared across his face and a grin on his face. 

“Hey Leo, Lou needs my help with some stuff, so I’ll be in Cabin 20 if you need me. “ Will said, gesturing to Lou Ellen as he spoke. 

“Okay—I’ll head there once I’m done here. I’ll probably be another few hours anyway. “ Will nodded, stepping closer to kiss Leo.

“Since you're on shift in the infirmary tonight, I was thinking I could join you?” Leo murmured against Will’s lips. “ We haven’t had time just us in forever.” 

“It’s been five days, and if you keep this up, Chiron will yell at us again, and that is an experience I do not want to repeat ever again,” Will retorted, smiling as he said it. 

“He’ll only yell at us if he catches us, and I happen to have a valid reason to visit the infirmary this time, thank you very much,” Leo said, matching Will’s grin. Will snorted, reaching out and snagging Leo’s belt loops with his thumbs, using his new grip to pull Leo closer to him. 

“And what is that very valid reason?” He questioned, raising an eyebrow at Leo. The son of Hephaestus grinned wider, leaning in to whisper in Will’s ear. 

“I have a burn that needs to be monitored overnight,” Will rolled his eyes.

“Leo, you are literally immune to fire,” He pointed out. Leo laughed. 

“But Chiron doesn’t know that,” He argued. 

“Hi. Still here, by the way,” Lou Ellen interjected awkwardly. 

“Shit, sorry, Lou,” Will apologized, his face red. Leo just laughed, throwing her a wink over his shoulder. Lou Ellen chuckled, rolling her eyes at Leo. Will pulled Leo closer to him,  ducking his head slightly to kiss the shorter demigod. 

“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He asked, releasing his hold on Leo’s jeans. Leo nodded, grinning as he shouted at Will and Lou Ellen’s backs, 

“Hey Lou! Try not to turn my boyfriend into a dog- I’m allergic,” Lou snorted, flipping Leo off behind her back without even looking at him. Lou Ellen fell into step beside Will, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as they made their way across the green to Cabin 20. 

“What’s up, Lou?” Will asked, catching her eye. 

“It’s nothing really. I don’t even know how to word it without sounding mean. I’m genuinely curious, though, I promise,” Will turned to her, raising an eyebrow quizzically. 

“So, you and Valdez? How did that happen?” Lou Ellen asked. Will smiled softly. 

“It was after Gaeia, actually. He was stuck in the infirmary for almost four weeks, and after the initial craze of injuries died down, he was stuck in bed with no one else besides me and my siblings. He couldn’t get out of bed, so all he had to do was annoy me,” the son of Apollo starts. “After the first week, most of the issue wasn’t how quickly his body was healing but keeping him entertained. I started bringing things in for us to do together: games I begged from Hermes Cabin, a goldfish Percy found… somewhere and asked Leo to take care of while he went to school, and bandages that needed to be rolled, I even begged Chiron to find us cookies to decorate, anything I thought would keep Leo’s hands and mind busy while his legs healed.

“Somewhere in those four weeks, it went from wanting to keep Leo’s mind entertained to wanting to see him smile, knowing I made him smile. I started dreading the day he was well enough to leave because I wasn’t sure how it would translate outside of the walls of the infirmary. I felt awful about that, but it was so easy being there, and I didn’t want to lose what we had,” he continues. “Then, a few days before Leo was supposed to leave, he was in an awful mood. He was grumpy and snippy with me and wouldn’t tell me why. When he threw a bandage at my head, I sat on his bed and told him I wasn’t moving until he told me what exactly his problem was. It took another 40 minutes, but it turns out I can also be very annoying when I want to be, and he eventually caved. He was feeling the exact same way- and neither of us knew how to express it.”

“And then you kissed him?” Lou Ellen guessed. Will snorted.

“No, then I called him an idiot, to which he responded by yelling at me in Spanish for 10 minutes straight. Then, he kissed me,” Will finished with a grin. Lou Ellen grinned at the son of Apollo, bumping his shoulder with her own. 

“I’m glad you guys got together. People were unsure when the news broke- Leo is a bit more chaotic than they expected you to end up with, but I think you guys work well together. You calm him down a bit, and he makes you laugh. I think you guys are good together,” Will flashed Lou a smile at her words, following her up the steps to Cabin 20. She opened the door with a flourish, announcing to her siblings, “I present to you- our test subject!” Will grinned at her siblings, waving at Peggy, the youngest camper. 

“Hey, Will!” Cabin 20 chorused. Oliver grabbed a chair and set it in the middle of the room, gesturing for Will to take a seat. 

“Took you long enough, Lou,” Graeme, one of the oldest of Hecate’s children, grumbled. He had a bottle with a stopper held in his hand. 

“I'm sorry. We had to stop by the bunker so Solace could tell Valdez where he’d be,” Lou smiled at her brother. 

“My fault, really. Got distracted by Leo,” Will offered, smiling apologetically at Graeme. The older son of Hecate gave Will a smile as Will sat in the offered chair. 

“Okay, Will. Here’s how this is going to work. Based on our tests, it doesn’t take a lot of the liquid-” 

“Potion,” Will interjected. Lou Ellen glared at him. 

“Fine. It doesn’t take much of the potion to give you the attributes. Our tests were on animals, but I did Iris message Annabeth, who helped me convert it to a human-size dose. So uh, if this doesn't work- I blame Annabeth,”  the eldest daughter of Hecate grumbled.

“I’ll be sure to tell her that if it goes poorly,” Will teased with a cheeky smile. 

“Thanks, Will. That’s definitely what I wanted to hear,” Lou Ellen deadpanned, reaching a hand out to Graeme, who handed the bottle over to her willingly. Lou Ellen pulled a cup from a bag on the floor, pouring a small amount from the bottle into the glass.

The potion swirled around the glass, shifting colours from a deep purple to pink to blue. Will eyed it, a little unsure of the colour, before downing it in one gulp. Lou Ellen took the glass from Will’s hand, placing it on the table, before turning back to Will. 

“How do you feel?” She asked, sitting at his feet, twisting to face Will. Will took his time before answering, wanting to be as honest as possible. 

“I don’t really feel different; there’s some tingling in my legs but nothing else,” He answered. Lou Ellen nodded, crossing the room to write something down in a journal on the desk. Her siblings followed her, crowding around her. 

“Just give us a minute, Will. We need to write this down.” 

“No rush,” Will said easily, yawning as a sudden surge of tiredness swept through him.

He closed his eyes, letting the murmur of voices in the background lull him to sleep. It felt like he had just closed his eyes when he was startled awake by a loud, “Oh shit- Lou! You need to see this,” from Graeme, and Will blinked his eyes open. 

“Shit,” Lou Ellen was squatting in front of the chair Will fell asleep, green eyes wide. 

“Hey, Will,” Lou smiled at him, though he could see how tense she was. 

“So something went wrong, and don’t panic- we’re going to fix it. I just need you to stay calm, okay? So, instead of giving you the strength of a lion, it made you into a housecat? I’m going to be honest: I have no clue how this happened. I’m gonna pick you up now, okay?” Lou Ellen asked him. Will sat up and blinked at her, cocking his head to the side. She reached out and slid a hand under his belly, lifting him gently, tucking him securely against her chest, sitting at the chair at the desk. 

“Aww, he’s so cute,” Peggy gushed, clasping her hands in front of her chest. 

“Peggy,” Graeme scolded. 

“ What?’ He is cute; what’s the problem with me saying it?” She argued

“The problem with you saying that is that he’s supposed to be human.” 

“Oh, I'm sorry, Will. You just make a cute kitten,” Peggy rushed to reassure Will, who meowed indignantly. 

“She’s right, you know. You do make a very cute kitten,” Lou Ellen teased him. Will swatted at her half-heartedly. Lou Ellen laughed, shifting him to sit more comfortably on her lap. 

“Okay- Oliver, go Iris, message Annabeth and ask her for help. Graeme, you and Peggy, go tell Chiron what’s happened. Jane-” A blonde girl popped her head up from the bed, where she was curled up reading. She blinked her eyes slowly at the sight of the kitten curled up in her sister’s lap. 

“Since when do we have a cat?” She asked. Lou Ellen snorted. 

“No, this is Will.” 

“Will, like Apollo cabin Will? Like gay Will,” Jane asked. Lou Ellen nodded to answer her sister’s question. 

“No, that Will is a human. This is a cat,” Jane dismissed Lou Ellen’s claim with a sigh. 

“No, this is that Will. We accidentally turned him into a cat. We’re working on it. I need you to go pray to Mom to see if she has any advice for us,” Lou Ellen ordered her sister. Jane glanced at Will one more time before closing her book and tossing it gently on her bed. She headed out the door, glancing over her shoulder at Lou Ellen, who was petting Will gently. As the door shut, Lou Ellen sighed. 

“We are in so much trouble,” she muttered under her breath, picking at the skin around her thumbnail. Will nosed his way between her fingers, licking her thumb gently, purring. 

“Will- you’re glowing, dude,” Lou Ellen stared at the kitten curled around her hand. Will meowed softly, bumping his head against her thumb. Lou Ellen opened her mouth to say something else but was interrupted by a knock on the door. 

“Shit,” Lou Ellen swore, scooping Will up and tossing him onto the top bunk of the bed closest to them. 

“Stay there- Don’t make a sound,” she hissed, sounding very frantic. Will lay down obediently, curling his tail around his body. Lou Ellen walked to the door, trying very hard to look nonchalant; she failed. Will could see her hands shaking from his perch. She opened the door, and Leo stepped inside. He wore his trademark smile, though Will could see the nerves that lay beneath it. He was chewing his lips, and he kept glancing around the cabin. 

“Where’s Will?” Leo all but demanded, lip trembling between his teeth. Will ached to go to him, to pull Leo into his arms and soothe him. Reassure him that everything was fine, and they were safe, and that Will wasn’t a cat. But Will had to trust Lou Ellen to reassure his boyfriend when he could not. 

“Leo, I promise he’s okay. There was a slight mishap with the test on Will, but I promise he’s alright. He’s safe, I swear on the Styx. Just let me explain, yeah?” Leo stared at Lou Ellen, dark eyes searching for any sign of deception. Finding none, he nodded and sat stiffly in a chair. Lou pulled a chair to sit in front of him, picking at her hands. 

“So, our goal was to give him the strength of a lion, right? Well, something went wrong, and instead of giving him the strength of a lion, it turned him into a cat.” 

“You turned my boyfriend into a lion?” Leo yelped, eyes widening.

“No, no! He’s not a lion. He’s, well, let me just show you,” Lou Ellen answered. She stood and crossed quickly to the bed where Will lay waiting. She reached up, scooping Will up easily, carrying him over to Leo. She held him out silently. Leo reached out with a trembling hand, stroking along Will’s head. Will immediately leaned into the touch, purring loudly. 

“He glows,” Leo whispered. Lou Ellen nodded, handing Will to Leo willingly. 

“Hey, Will. You doing alright?” Leo murmured, holding the cat close. Will purred louder, tucking his head into Leo’s neck. The soft glow brightened, casting shadows across Leo’s face. 

“You glow when you purr?” Leo questioned, slightly incredulous. Will purred, nuzzling closer to Leo. The son of Hephaestus glanced up at Lou Ellen, who was bent over a thick book, muttering to herself. 

“Now what?” He asked. Lou Ellen sighed, pushing her dark hair behind her ear. 

“Will’s the only child of Apollo here currently. Take him back to his cabin and stay with him. It’ll probably be more comfortable for Will. I have my siblings working on fixing this; as soon as we find anything, one of us will come to find you guys and let you know,” Leo nodded, standing up and gently tucking Will into his pocket. 

“Let’s go, kitten,” He murmured, stepping out of Cabin 20 and crossing over to Cabin 7 as quickly as possible. 

He entered the empty cabin, closing the door behind him. He crossed to Will’s bed, placing Will down gently. Will climbed onto the pillow, curling up. He watched Leo pace in front of the bed, gnawing on his lip. Will meowed at Leo, standing up and moving to the edge of the bed. Leo glanced at Will, forcing a smile onto his face.

“It’ll be okay, Will. Lou will fix it and get you to stop being a cat. I got you; we’re safe here,” Leo promised, still pacing. Will sighed softly, stretching out his front legs and meowing louder. Leo crossed the room to soothe him.

“You’ll be okay, I promise,” Leo murmured, scratching at Will’s ear. Will nipped gently at Leo’s thumb, using his teeth to pull insistently at Leo’s hands. 

“What do you need?” Leo asked, following Will willingly. He crawled onto the bed, laying down on his side, facing Will. 

“What do you need, kitten?” Leo asked. He rested his hand on the bed between them, and Will immediately curled around his hand, purring. 

“Hold on, did you just doctor me, even though you're stuck as a cat?” Leo questioned. Will purred louder. 

“You are very small,” Leo marvelled, petting him softly. Will meowed, preening underneath Leo’s hands. Will stood and climbed onto Leo’s chest easily. He started kneading Leo’s shirt, tucking himself under Leo’s chin. Leo rested his hand on Will, rolling to lay on his back, taking care not to dislodge the kitten on his chest. Will curled himself into a ball and purred even louder, the glow he was emitting getting brighter with the intensity of his purrs. Leo chuckled softly, closing his eyes as he felt the vibrations against his skin. 

Leo was almost asleep when he heard feet pounding against the steps to Cabin 7. He was on his feet before they could knock, holding Will securely against his chest. He opened the door to Lou Ellen, looking profoundly more frazzled than when they had left her. 

 “Did you do it?” Leo demanded, stepping aside to let her into Will’s cabin. 

“I think so—Jane talked to Mom, who figured something out. Between Mom and Annabeth, this should undo it,” she brandished a spray bottle full of a green liquid. 

“A spray bottle, really, Lou?” Leo questioned. She flushed

“It was the only empty, clean container any of us had. So unless you wanted us to take the time to handwash a different container, this was our only option.” 

“Fair enough. And Lou- you’re sure this will work?” Leo asked, automatically holding Will closer to his chest like he could protect him with love. 

Lou Ellen sighed, “Honestly? No. We didn’t have time to test this. But I can say that it won’t make it worse, at least. Trust me, Leo, I’m not thrilled about this. But this is our best chance of undoing the whole cat thing without causing permanent changes.

“This way, at least, if it doesn't work, it doesn't change anything, and we can just try again,” Lou Ellen answered. Leo frowned, glancing down at the kitten watching him intently, blue eyes laser-focused on his own.

“What do you think, kitten? Want to give it a try? Or would you rather stay as a cat where you can’t talk back or scold me when I make poor decisions?” Leo questioned. Will hissed at him, swatting the demigod with his paw. 

“That’s a no then,” Lou Ellen laughed, stepping closer to Will and Leo. 

“Maybe put him on the bed?” She suggested. Leo lifted the kitten to nuzzle his face into the soft fur, pressing a kiss to the top of his furry head. He then placed the kitten on the bed. He took two steps, and he was now behind Lou Ellen. 

“He would have never let me do that if he were human—I’m taking full advantage of this to give him the affection he won’t let me give him normally,” Lou Ellen snorted, stepping closer to Will. 

“Ready?” She asked softly. Will sat up, cocking his head to the side. He meowed loudly. 

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” Lou Ellen laughed, raising the spray bottle and spraying a fine mist over Will. 

A bright light engulfed the kitten, blocking everyone’s view of the transformation. Inside the light, Will could feel his bones start to lengthen and thicken to his human height. His back paws elongate, the ankle joint shifting to meet the pad on his heel. The base of his foot widened and lengthened to the size he was familiar with, and his toes grew a little to match a human foot, with his claws flattening out and growing shorter to match his nails. The bones in his legs shift, making it so that Will’s instead sitting with his legs in a “w” on the bed.

The son of Apollo’s forelegs become more solid, the paws on it widening to fit the size of the palm of his hand. The toes become longer, the bones inside them splitting and creating joints. His claws come out to flatten and grow short to fit his nails. Will shook his head, his snout going back into his face and his ears relocating to the side of his head instead of resting on top of it. The fur all over him retracted, and the hair on his head grew to its regular length. Will's light covering faded, and he sat there on the bed, his eyes adjusting to the light level in the cabin.

“Will?” Leo questioned softly, stepping closer to his partner. Will lifted his head, blinking slowly. He smiled at Leo, reaching a hand to him. 

“Hey, Leo,” He said. 

“Will!” Leo launched himself at Will, knocking the taller man flat on his back, clinging to him. 

“Hey there, Leo. It’s alright,” Will murmured, tracing his hand up and down Leo’s spine. 

“We’re alright, promise. No more cats here,” Will promised. Leo laughed wetly, shoving his face into the crook of Will’s neck. 

“You were a very cute cat.” He whispered, sniffling. 

“Lou Ellen, what exactly are you planning on doing with both your potions?” Will asked over Leo’s head. 

“We’ll probably put them with some of the other concoctions we’ve made- if we ever have to go to war again, it’ll be useful. Also, it might deter certain cabins from pranking us if they know we can turn them into cats,” Lou Ellen sent a mischievous grin in Will's direction. Will snorted, wrapping an arm around Leo. 

“Thanks for all your help, Lou.” 

“Anytime, Solace. Sorry, we turned you into a cat!” Lou called over her shoulder as she headed to the door, shutting it firmly behind her. 

“You okay? Will murmured into Leo’s hair, resting his hands on the smaller man’s hips. Leo drew his knees up to rest on either side of Will’s hips, tucking himself closer to Will. He nodded, lifting himself up on his elbows to kiss Will, lips burning against the Son of Apollo’s. Will gasped slightly, returning Leo’s kiss with as much fervor as Leo gave. 

“Someone is eager to see me,” Will whispered against Leo’s mouth.

“Missed you,” was all Leo said. Will chuckled. 

“I take it you prefer me as a human compared to a cat then?” Will asked. 

“Absolutely,” Leo responded, pressing his hips, relishing in the low growl Will let slip out. 

“I’m glad,” Will murmured, lifting his head to kiss Leo again.

[sapphiretanto]

12 Leo is 100% the “wine mom” that wears large knit sweaters (Raph made them) who sits on the couch drinking tea (usually) and watching Space Heroes while chaos is happening in the background that she’s too tired to deal with right now.

[insidiousncss]

(   aaron pierre  .  demi man  .  he, they  )       —       blasting  self care  by  mac miller  down  main  street  we’ve  spotted  kwame mensah   sporting  their  overly large sweaters,  bored hues,  daylight ring.  the  appears late twenties ( one hundred one )  year  old  heretic  who’s  been  in  town  for  two years  often  can  be  seen  laying around in the park with various stray animals next to them, observing people pass by as they scout their next muse, finding a new pair of noise cancelling headphones,  or  working  as  an  artist  at  portum art museum.  people  say  they  display  unassuming  and  lackadaisical  traits,  but  we  rather  trust  their  vibes:  a warm summer's day with a breeze ruffling your hair, demeanor antitheist to their nature and soft downy sheets as rain pitter patters on.  also,  we’ve  heard  they  love  takis and red wine !   aren’t  they  fascinating ?   

✱  LAYER  ONE … the  basics.

full  name: kwame  mensah preferred  name: kwame,  doesn't  like  nicknames. date  of  birth  &  age: 30th  of  july,  appears  late  twenties  but  is  101 place  of  birth: koidu, sierra leone / raised in malibu, california zodiac  sign: leo  sun, scorpio  rising ⸺ the  enigmatic  lion as a leo, this person will be naturally ambitious, cheerful, and loves to be in the spotlight. they can command attention without even trying. their self confidence and positivity is truly their trademark.  

but here’s the twist. due to their scorpio rising, their leo flamboyance gets a dash of mystery and intensity. the influence of scorpio tones down some of the leo’s natural outgoing nature, making them less of an open book. they might not show all their cards at once and can be quite secretive about their goals and plans.

while the leo in them loves to bask in the limelight, the scorpio rising adds an enticing allure, drawing people in, making others curious about what lies beneath the surface. with their scorpio’s intuition and depth, they have a distinct ability to analyze and understand people, situations, and their own emotions on a deeper level. this amalgamation makes them intriguing and magnetic to those around them.

gender  &  pronouns: demi man, he & they orientation: panromantic, pansexual spoken  languages:  french,  italian,  english,  swedish,  spanish,  creole, latin education:  holds  many  degrees,  the  most  recent  a  phd  in  criminology occupation:  artist  at  portum  art  museum  while  also  reaping  the  benefits  of  being  a  professional  sugar  baby  

✱  LAYER  TWO … the  connections.

parents: ishmael mensah, fatima tiafoe children: none ( that they're aware of ) pets: magia, two year old serval relationship  status: single, relationships sound difficult.

✱  LAYER  THREE … the  appearance.

faceclaim: aaron pierre hair color & frequent style: natural black. shaved, waves but sometimes grows it out for a change eye color: jade green, brighter or darker depending on clothes worn height: six feet exactly scars: gone with his rebirth tattoos: doesn't like anything enough to make it permanent piercings: right ear pierced, left nipple pierced notable features: glass like eyes

✱  LAYER  FOUR … the  observations. 

handedness: ambidextrous sociability: introverted, will socialize sparingly with strangers emotional control: mild, prone to bouts of melancholy drug usage: occasional, only in the presence of trusted companions alcohol usage: socially, prefers a glass of red wine phobias: boredom voice / accent: deep, velvet. acquired a french accent from his time spent in paris, but can mimic many different ones and will use them with different people for fun

✱  LAYER  FIVE … the  tidits.  will be added onto.

one.  connective and blood magic are their specialties. with extra life and ability to withstand things in their half vampire state, the recklessness to master the use of both with dabbling into ritual, sacrifice, and ancestral magic would make them dangerous ⸺ if they wanted to be. it takes years of anger for kwame to exert their energy for the use of revenge but it's not unheard of. their maker disappeared and many suspect it to have been a result of something kwame did to them. they'll never deny but the extent of what he did is between him, the ancestors, and his maker.

two.  they seem to have an endless wealth, and in theory, they do. there are books on the shelves they collect residuals for yet in their ' old age ' he will choose the lazy route at all times. whatever or whoever will shower them in luxury, whoever owns the softest sheets kwame will give their fleeting allegiance. to have them go out of their way for you ? consider yourself special.

[augustcastle]

fall fair

Ryan watches the seasons change right in front of her eyes through the window in her living room. Each day the large tree outside slowly turns from green to yellows or oranges, some reds and it’s nice to see. It is a bit delayed, a lot of green out there but she can mainly feel it in the temperature. Going to bed and layering up the blankets, walking around in an oversized sweater and drinking some hot and not feeling like a volcano drinking it in heat. Safe to say she’s happy about it, and that also means the fall festival coming around.

There’s little markets twice a week that she helps with, volunteering some extra time to help set up but the fair will be a lot bigger in the old fairgrounds. Slowly but surely big white tents are starting to go up for the food vendors and the beer tent, booths coming in, areas being blocked off for some of the rides and she feels good about it. Probably took on more than she needed too being new but seems to be working out just fine.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” August asks, signing at the same time. Sometimes it’s just easier to talk when he’s upset because his hands can’t move fast enough but he’s also not trying to grab his sister’s attention as she watches TV in the living room.

He stares at Leo in the kitchen, waiting for a response.

I’m telling you now, his father says calmly, if we don’t make a little over what we did last year in profit, at the end of the year we might have to start making other choices about the farm.

August swallows over something sour in his throat, You mean sell?

Leo lets out a breath, obviously not wanting to have this conversation at all, I mean doing what we have to to stay afloat.

August feels sick--he can’t fathom selling the farm, getting rid of the horses, goats, their way of life. He knows it’s not very adult of him? But he can’t have this conversation right now. He waves his hand angrily, moves to grab his jean jacket and leave, the kitchen door slamming shut after him.

[maristarz]

Chapter Five time!! :3 (Good Ending)

Chikaze was found dead in the forest, with this a giant slash across his stomach. He seemed to be fighting someone. The blackened was split between Holloway and Bada. They randomly chose one and the blackened was Holloway. He was indeed guilty.

Crime plot

(TW: Fighting, blood, crying)

Chikaze and Holloway decided to meet up about the death order being updated. Bada was next. Holloway looked at the paper with sadness. Chikaze smiled. "We should fight to the death..." Holloway had a face of disgust. "Don't joke about that." he chuckled. "I'm not joking."

They finally agreed to fight. Bada's not gonna be the next one to die. After a few minutes of fighting, Holloway landed a large blow on Chikaze, causing the artist to stumble on the ground, with a bit of blood splattering the snow outside.

Holloway smiled. "You fought well." Chikaze looked at the sword he had. He looked at the ground and laughed. "You too. Now, kill me." Holloway was slightly surprised by his request, but followed it. He slashed Chikaze in the stomach. After the young man had stopped breathing, he placed a flower next to his body.

"Good job, man."

During the trial, Mizuki angrily accused Bada of killing her brother. The survivalist sobbed and screamed. The killer had to be Bada!.. She's the only one who can kill someone like that! Or it could be Kane!

The woman broke down during the trial, crying into her sweater. She had sobbed for a while, but her little brother had just been murdered. Bada held her shoulder. They found the killer to be either Bada or Holloway.

As Kane silently comforted Mizuki, with tears in his eyes as well from his close friend's death, Holloway looked at Bada with an annoyed look. "Bada doesn't have an alibi either. Not a strong one, at least."

Bada's eyes widened. "I could say the same for you," Henso butted in, looking at the ground. She was mad at herself for not saving her older brother, and the energetic streamer wasn't so lively. The three had a debate and decided to vote Holloway.

Execution

(TW: Blood, gore, religion, fear, death)

STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN

Holloway is at the bottom of the stairs. He sees saws beside him that are slowly coming up. He started running up the stairs. As he slowly saw the exit, the saws sped up. He ran faster, but the saw cut his foot deeply, making him trip. He still sucked it up and ran to the exit. He got more tired and in more pain. As he was one story away from the exit, the saw cut his leg in half and minced him, piece by piece as his blood-soaked clothes were thrown off.

Motive: Bada was the next to die, supposedly. Chikaze and Holloway fought to kill each other so that Bada wouldn't die.

Victims: Preston, Aseo, Esme, Kimi, Faye, Chikaze

Killers: Charles, Leo, Ririka, Kane (?), Farid, Holloway

Survivors: Henso, Kane, Mizuki, Bada, Tsuki

[mushroompollution]

Character Stats + Navigation

General:

Name: Leo

Pronouns: he/they/she/any

Sexuality: asexual

Birthday: October 25 (scorpio)

Age: 22

Appearance:

Height: 5'5"

Eyes: don't worry about it (ᅌᴗᅌ✿)

Hair: Black. Long, to about mid-back. Probably Leo's most prominent feature, their thick hair is almost always an unkempt, unbrushed disaster. Their bangs are shaggy and hang over the top half of their glasses, with the corners flipping out awkwardly where they hit the rims wrong.

Race: human / white

Other:

Glasses: Leo is never, ever seen without their large, round, thick-lensed glasses. He has frames in several colors of metal, but they're all otherwise similar, and thick enough to consistently obstruct his eyes in photographs

Dress: When they have to be presentable for formal occasions and meetings, Leo dresses in delicate ouji-style tailcoats with billowing sleeves and so many bows. Otherwise, they prefer to wear oversized collared shirts, sweaters, or sweatshirts twice their size. They steal Elliot's clothes more than buying their own.

Pandora Hearts, but make it modern! Some things will be completely fun new AU adventures, and some will follow the actual plot of the source manga... to a certain point.

Warnings: Leo's backstory involves some heavy topics like child abuse, unethical experimentation, and child death. I'll do my best to tag anything as needed!

post will be updated with info/links to come

VENT BLOG: @hauntedphase

Resource Links:

Manga Context Tag

Glossaries:

Characters: Dukedoms || Pandora & Others

Places || Terms

my characterization of Leo is heavily influenced by @laciie, who I used to rp w as Elliot, so I want to make sure to put some credit where it's due

[barris-events]

"Blue is the most human colour" (Regina Spektor)

Thomas and Richard go see Snow White (released in December 1937)

Molesley attempts to give Richard dating advice

Snowed in together

Richard gives Thomas a nice dark red sweater for Christmas as a gift (to them both)

Thomas gets a letter (or letters) from someone he treated while in the RAMC

“In the night when the moon is large, the world spreads blue in every direction." (Lynda Barry, Cruddy)

Richard overhears some more classic Downton bullying along the lines of "Thomas Barrow has kissed many a man" because to some of Thomas's (ex) colleagues, every man is one too many

"The mood is right, the spirits up. We’re here tonight, and that’s enough.” (Paul McCartney, Wonderful Christmastime)

Mod AU with neighbours Thomas and doctor!Richard in which Thomas knocks on Richard's door, asking if Richard could patch him up

Thomas takes Teo on long walks as a ruse to meet up with Richard

Thomas helping George eat his vegetables, possibly during the royal visit, and Richard sees him

"Oh, the fire is slowly dying. And, my dear, were still goodbye-ing. But as long as you love me so, let it snow, let it snow, let it snow.”

“And when I'm feeling alone, you remind me of home.” (TS, Christmas Tree Farm)

“I found what I was looking for, a love that's meant for me. A heart that's mine completely, knocked me right off my feet.” (Kelly Clarkson, Underneath the Tree)

“It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas, toys in every store. But the prettiest sight to see is the holly that will be on your own front door.” (Bing Crosby, It’s Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas)

“They're singing ‘Deck The Halls,’ but it's not like Christmas at all, ‘cause I remember when you were here, and all the fun we had last year.” (Darlene Love, Christmas (Baby Please Come Home))

A hallmark Christmas plot where usually cynical about festive things Thomas falls in love with the cute ornament designer Richard Ellis

worrying about finding a Christmas present that is neither too little nor too much to someone far away

Mod AU where the bauble designing workshop is a team building exercise and Richard notices Thomas keeps being left out

If I should lose you, the stars would fall from the sky

If I should lose you, leaves would wither and die

The birds in May-time - they'd sing a mournful refrain

And I would wander around - hating the sound of rain

With you beside me, the rose would bloom in the snow

With you beside me, no winds of winter would blow

(Ralph Rainger & Leo Robin, listen)

A series of dates where one or other of them can’t focus because their work-honed senses are being offended by crimes such as a teapot at an incorrect angle, a waiter’s ill-fitting jacket, poorly polished cutlery, a too-true to life overheard impression of the king, etc.

"Whisper a dangerous secret to someone you care about. Now they have the power to destroy you, but they won't. This is what love is."

You can find the Nice image prompts here, and the Naughty ones here. Feel free to use whatever bits you like, and happy creating! ♥️🎄✨🌶♥️

[bringingourrealitys2life]

[text transcript: “Hey! My brothers and I aren’t in the competition, but we brought some (totally-not-enchanted) donuts, if you guys wanted any..?”]

The I Hate Fairytales boys weren’t made early enough to have been submitted, but Raph is here to hand out some snacks!

(Don’t worry about the donuts, they’ll just give you some weird freaking dreams ;p )

[@tmntausummit]

“So those are totally cursed.” Raph stated simply once their visitor had walked away. The three of them had politely refused- or in Raph’s case, stared him down until he gave up trying to hand him one- the offerings, but Mikey did not get the memo, hugging the donut to his chest protectively. “Oh, come on! They’re not even running! They’re just some nice dudes with some delish looking donuts! Look at this!”

Mikey brandished the donut as Leo slipped a jean jacket over Donnie’s shoulders. The five-year-old gave Mikey the same deadpan that Raph wore and decided, “When Mikey dies, I get his phone.”

“Still not old enough for phones.”

“Aw.”

Leo lowered his hands. “How’s this?”

Donnie adjusted the fabric uncomfortably. “Scratchy.”

“That’s how it’s supposed to feel.” Leo assured. “Come on, Dee. Don’t you wanna match Raph?”

Raph slipped a thumb into the pocket on his baggy pants, bright red singlet complimented by a large jean jacket and pair of shades in its pocket. He winked and shot a finger gun at his younger brother, clicking out the side of his mouth, before turning his attention to the brother dressed in a striped orange-and-white sweatshirt and jeans, orange sneakers plastered to the floor as he resisted the urge to feast on the likely high enchanted snack.

Donnie considered it. “No.”

“Do you want a shirt underneath?” Leo tried half-heartedly.

“Too many layers.” Donnie shrugged the jacket off and Leo sighed, “You’re not giving us much to work with here.”

“Layers feels weird. And that’s just two things.” Donnie argued with a pout. Leo raised an eye ridge. “No tight pants, no baggy pants, no shorts, no jeans, no jeans jackets, no long sleeve shirts, no polos, no skirts, no ties, no sweaters, no suits- you’ll do t-shirts, but nothing with pictures or memes you don’t understand, or bright colors unless it’s purple, and we have a basically one chance to wear shoes in our size, but all of those are weird or tight.”

“Cut the kid a break, Leo.” Raph chided as he held Mikey’s hand behind his back, earning a pained squawk. “He’s never worn clothes before. You know how he is with different stuff.”

“Routine is fine, but it’s a fashion show.” Leo stood up to the toss the jacket in the large no pile.

Raph released Mikey. “All I’m saying is, he has one of his fits and you can explain to everyone why he’s whining to the high heavens.”

“I don’t get that loud!” Donnie sputtered, his face bright red. “I just get stressed a bit.”

Raph was about to respond when he realized Mikey had swiped the donut back and was shoving it into his mouth. His eyes widened in horror, which was quickly replaced with murderous fury. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU ATE THAT!”

With a scream muffled by donut, Mikey took off in a sprint. Raph was not long behind, screaming insults and for him to spit it out.

Leo sat on the floor, looking through their limited options. After a awkward moment of fiddling with his hands, Donnie sat down next to him, bowing his head guiltily. “Sorry I’m difficult.”

“Sorry enough to change your mind?”

Donnie’s face crinkled and Leo chuckled lightly, scooping an arm around his shoulders. “That’s alright. I’m sure we’ll find something you like.”

Donnie smiled and reached for a fedora. “I like hats.”

“And while I’m sure you can pull it off, you can’t exactly expect to beat the competition with just a fedora.”

Donnie adjusted the fedora over his head, throwing his head to the side and running to fingers over the brim. “Watch me.”

Leo laughed and knocked the fedora over his eyes, earning bubbling giggles from his younger brother. Pulling the fedora from his head and into his lap, he suddenly asked, “Hey, what are you gonna wear?”

“Me?” Leo teased in mock thought. “Oh, I dunno. Think there’s a space heroes cosplay around here?”

“I can find one!” Donnie scrambled upright and took off like a shot.

Leo hopped to his feet and considered calling him back, taking in the new excitement in his stance and shaking his head. With a fond smile, he trailed after him, absently hoping that their brothers would be able to find their way back.