#THEY MAY NOT BE PART OF HIM PHYSICALLY BUT DAMN IT THEY ARE PARTS HE CANT BE WITHOUT!!!!!!!!! FUCK

[fanaticsnail]

presses the +1 button for write it write it write it re: the vampire post im

🥺🥺🥺

biggest, saddest, wettest eyes pleading sldakjlkgfdjksgkl

got out of work and immediately got smacked in the face with that post im aslkdjkglfd ALSO that gif of law is 👌

@remisloves

Anything for you, Remi! I'll call it a gift exchange for you for your art of my OC, Tobiuo. I also adore that Law gif, so I'm gonna use it again! Thank you for your ask, Remi 🖤🖤

Invitation

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,500+

Synopsis: Based on vampiric folklore, a vampire may not come inside a premises without an explicit invitation. The vampire, Trafalgar D Water Law, was now left with a predicament, and you were not playing fair about it.

Themes: Vampire!Law x gn!reader, mdni, 18+, NSFW, smut, prior relationship hinted, penetrative sex (reader receiving), bratty reader, begging, pleading, crying, vampire biting - blood consumption, porn with plot, biting, edging, based on this post.

Notes: Returning to my vampire era again. Oh no. Mini part 2 here.

“Please.”

That small word was the greatest symphony to the world’s most fantastic serenade. The body between your thighs, nestled with his cock deep within your abdomen, and rhythmically bucking up with the crude slap of hips thrusting, was the vampire: Trafalgar D Water Law.

You had been friends for a while, the heart pirates stampeding onto your island and begging to port to resupply from your homeland granted your first meeting. The captain of the Polar Tang had his Were-bear speak for him, Bepo the peaceful mouthpiece for his demands while negotiating the resupply. The winged naga, Penguin, and the fey trickster, Shachi, ensured you were informed of the dire circumstances they found themselves within. Their captain had been inadvertently starved, his grip on his own sanity slipping the longer he withheld his urge to feed on a human.

He was a doctor, and a creature damned, yet deemed savior to the living. His soul was long since departed, yet here he was: stripped down to naught but his essence and begging for you from your position above him.

“No.”

That response alone had him whimpering, his eyes stinging at the corners from the creases where his lashes kissed one another. He looked up at you like you were the lifeline tethering him to the world, coinciding with his desperate bucking, had you feeling superior and empowered.

While you did grant the Polar Tang permission to dock at your port, you did not gift Trafalgar Law, the vampire, permission to come inside your body. With the ‘rules of permission’ induced in with vampiric folklore, come and cum seemed to be interchangeable.

You had been edging this vampire for almost half an hour now. The mixture of your blood from a deep bite against your jugular swirled with the lust he was burying within you. Your body homed his cock with an ease he hadn't experienced prior, and he was easily lost to the feeling of your soul entwining physically with his.

“Please,” he cried out, his cock refusing to spill while his shaft shuddered in pure need, “I-I can't. It won't. The-... Please.”

His sweet babbles falling from your lips had you cooing and preening down at the dark-haired man. His inked fingers dug into your hips dangerously hard, his restraint tested with each slide of his cock dragging into your body.

“Why won't you let me come in?”

His round, glossy eyes darted between yours as his question rang deep within your mind. No amount of vampiric hypnosis could cause a human to invite someone in, and he would never dream of such a notion. He needed you to need him, and he had never been on the precipice of desire for as long as he was with you.

Pleasure had bloomed and crested within your body twice so far, and you had enjoyed each rock and buck from the skilled vampire who coaxed them out of you. Another wave of desire simmered the longer he begged, and your eyes glazed at how easily you sucked him deep inside you. He was lost with you, his heels planted while he encouraged you to pump his cock with your entrance.

“You want to come in?” you gently cooed down at him, cupping his cool cheek beneath your palm briefly before bringing both of your hands to perch on his shoulders. “You could have pulled out at any time, vampire. What held you fixated?”

“B-Better if I-I cum while drinking from you,” he admitted, his voice catching in his throat while he fought off the fatigue marrying his withheld release. “Please let me come in. I n-need to cum, I need to cum, I need to cum-!”

The captain you once met on your shore, stoic in nature and abrasive in conversation, was begging to flood you with his cum. He needed to release deep within you, and his resolve was wearing away at the edges the longer you forbade him.

“You can hold off a while longer,” you pouted down at him, teasing him with a gentle hand tracing his pectorals towards his sensitive nipple, “Show me that vampiric resilience.”

At that coax, a deep growl erupted from his throat while he rolled you immediately beneath him. He chased his high, the sloppy and languid thrusts of his cock prompting him to whimper and whine with each steady motion. You sighed and gasped at the new angle, your voice catching and fluttering in a similar mannerism to the way your body desperately contracted in rhythmic waves clapping against his shaft.

“You want to come inside?” you gently teased him. He cried out, sobbing while nodding his head at your question. His canines retracted over his lips, his mouth parting and gently tracing over the prior bite you first allowed him to puncture and soothe on your mortal flesh.

He was so hungry when you first met him, you could barely begin to escort him to town before baring your neck out for him to feast on. The eyes sunken and drooped, the features hollowed and forlorn of the vampiric captain tugged at your heartstrings, and you allowed him to feed from you to replenish himself.

After that point, you had not once invited him back to your house, nor given him permission to come in. Both of those factors now brought you heightened joy at the control you held above his head. Although you remained friends and grew in deeper infatuation the longer he remained with you, you were yet to take him fully home.

“Please let me come in,” he whimpered in heavy gasps against your neck, his lengthy tongue expelling and flickering over your skin, “I need to cum inside you. Please? I-I need you.” You flung your arms over his shoulders and cradled him in the nook. He didn't make a move to bite down or bully you, but his moans where muffled huffs against your skin regardless.

“Please.”

You hooked your legs over his hips and interlaced your ankles behind his back, digging your heels into his cool skin and spurring him to fuck into your body harder. His desperate thrusts ran sloppy and desperate as he sobbed into your neck. Your hands traced his tattoo before digging your blunt fingertips into his muscle.

“Okay, sweetheart,” you gasped, already feeling on the precipice of another wave of pleasure crashing over you at his sweet begging and pleading.

“You can come in.”

Immediately his sloppy motions sped up, his cum flooding your body with a stream of viscous release. His teeth surged down and punctured your pulse, moaning at your essence of life as it hit his palate. Your body was no better, immediately bowing your back in a perfect arch and giving in to your third release. White split your vision, the pain from his bite dissipating as your body reached a higher realm of bliss.

His rigid body fell forward, his sobs fading into growled huffs and pants while his cock twitched akin to matching his likely initial rigor mortis. His cool skin melted against your warm torso, his ice-like tongue lapping at the wound and healing it with his saliva.

As you felt your high dissipate, you attempted to wriggle away from his embrace to look up at the vampire weighing his body heavily on you. His grip on you was strong, and he seemed far away and withdrawn in his mind while he lapped at your skin.

“Law?” you queried, attempting to nudge him away from his position nuzzled into your skin. He released a sound that was akin to a laugh before slowly withdrawing up to peer down at you. Hips began to move once more, his hard and steely cock once again hitting a spot that shot sparks up your spine and need pooling in your belly.

“You invited me to come in,” he chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours while his he fucked his exiting cum back into your body, “I'm going to use that hospitality to the fullest, and come in over and over again until I deem it appropriate to stop.”

“Law-!” Your cries fell on deaf ears as he held your hips down and rut into you. Cruel slaps echoed within the room, his prior begs turning into feral grunts at each heavy buck. You reached down in a bid to hold onto him for anchorage, an action he slapped playfully away while he continued his animalistic brutality.

“Nuh uh,” he chuckled down at you playfully, “For all that teasing you gave me earlier, I am going to get my revenge by tearing out orgasm after orgasm from you. All you gotta do is lay there and take what I'm giving to you."

Your body gave in, need again returning and flooding your veins with its reignition. Lips parting and jaw slacking, your legs hang limply over his hips and encouraged him to thrust deeper and harder. His hands move to circle your thighs tug them against him to gain leverage for his motions.

“That's it,” Law praised you with a cockiness in his tone, “You just think about what you did to bring this on. Gonna cum in you whenever I want now."

"Thank you for your invitation.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory

[blueaetherr]

permission to feel

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader [she/her]

warning(s): longer than usual, minor mistakes, angst?

summary: the one where two disasters discover lost feelings

author's note: part 2 to this imagine. this was supposed to come out a while ago but i kept changing and rewriting stuff. final product so enjoy as you can.

now playing: come back to me by teyana taylor ft. junie & rick ross

It was late at night when Jude and Y/N decided to stray away from the party. That was what they planned—with hushed discussions, (Jude's) unmistakable winks, one's glances across the room, some slow and steady movements toward the exit—to settle on the beach where Jobe and her brother could find them if they chose to join them sometime later.

But they continued to walk along the beach without a thought to slow down, without a thought beyond themselves and their unceasing conversation.

And they went on to walk along their spontaneous path unbothered. Party music soon became distant to their senses. There were fewer and fewer people to encounter in their wide vicinities. Slurred voices faded into the evening night with ease. Distance between themselves and their siblings stretched beyond agreement—until it was only them, with the company of the sand under their feet and the sound of the sea rolling into itself repeatedly.

And that was okay, really. Even though neither Jude nor Y/N voiced it, this was what they wanted; to be alone together for a moment. One that they probably already robbed themselves of one too many times in the past.

Leaving Jude behind Y/N wandered towards the shoreline of the small beach, quite careless in her steps. She took in a deep inhale, letting her chest rise as she let her senses navigate the setting. Strings of winds softly fanning her face and passing between her fingers, the sea and the sky carefully falling into each other farther out in the distance, sand under, on and laying on her feet—usually, and once irritating and gritty at initial contact—now comforting and warm against her skin.

Letting her chest fall slowly, Y/N closed her eyes. Then, at the touch of wind, the feeling along her legs, the calm in her heart, mind and soul– she smiled.

Being away on holiday let Y/N appreciate the little things whilst being uncaring about her daily obligations. Here she stood, far away from her responsibilities to her family and community. She didn't have to present herself as a model of all things good that others thought came to her innately. She didn't have to wait on anyone; she could receive without feeling she should send too. She didn't have to act as the third parent to her young siblings as they were in the safe care of their parents.

Here, responsibilities were damned to infinity. It was all temporary, of course, she knew that well enough. It's just that, well, for once she could indulge in nothing—or something, or everything—and just rest. That was all she wanted.

Opening her eyes Y/N turned around only to find Jude's gaze stuck on her, his head tilted to the side. She sniffled out a laugh as she made her towards him. "What are you doing?" she asked.

And Jude let his focus remain on her. His gaze circled between Y/N, the sea and the sky, and everything two times over again. His eyes were full of wonder and curiously at the sight of the three differing bodies together and in comparison. Something about resemblances, physical aspects, mirroring movements or even shared loveliness. He had an idea in mind. There was something to say, something to point out. Whether evident or not held no relevance. But he was unsure; a bit of confirmation would ease his mind.

"This... this may sound weird." That was the worry, indeed. That she would find his creation of thoughts and ideas weird. That she would find him weird. But that wasn't it at all. There was a nod and a smile and that was reassuring enough for Jude to resume asking, "Just out of curiosity... has anyone ever compared you to the sea and the sky?"

After telling Jude the meaning behind Blues she had initially believed that all talk and things connected to it anyhow would ultimately die out. She didn't think Jude would catch onto things, even if he was unaware of the fact. Again, Y/N nodded as the existing smile across her lips continued to bloom. "Only one person," she said as she held up a finger.

Jude's face and shoulders fell slightly. He figured this out when he only knew a bit and some about Y/N. There was only one other person who would know this very thing about Y/N, and he knew everything about her. "Please don't tell me it's him." Searching Y/N's expression carefully he found happiness and delight and subtle laughter, and Jude couldn't say he was surprised. Even the mention of his brother in conversation had her in bright spirits. "Really? It was Jobe?"

Y/N scoffed out a laugh. Even while joking Jude still managed to diminish Jobe. "Why are you surprised by that?" she asked as they moved to sit on the sand.

Jude huffed out a deep yet relieving chuckle. "No offence to him. I just—I didn't know he was—" His facial expression almost broke out into a frown, a subtle measure of something. Romantic was the word that first came to him. He knew it didn't apply to his brother nor did Jobe hold anything romantic towards Y/N. The soulmatism between Y/N and Jobe, though grey and blurry, when defined was strictly platonic. There was love between the two and that love would always remain sufficient for them. No more, no less.

Romantic. 'Cause if Jude had been the one to initially compare his friend to the sea and the sky— a pair of bodies he found both regular and remarkable, two figures that reflected Y/N in every way possible— then the gesture would have been romantic. All the way from the intentions down to the execution. Jude pulled in a breath, clearing his throat. "Poetic," was the word he settled with as he shrugged. "I didn't know he was poetic like that."

"Like I always say, he's a sensitive boy," Y/N said, locking her fingers around her knee. "That's probably why I always leaned towards him instead of you growing up." A beat. "That is if you take away other things of course."

"Yeah?"

Y/N hummed, nodding. "Definitely. It lets him be emotionally mature and respond to situations in a logical and understanding manner, and I don't think I could ask for more from someone. Like..." Another beat came between the pair until she let out a sigh, pinching the root of her nose. She already knew what Jude's reaction to her following words would be. "Remember when Jobe had a crush on me?"

Immediately, laughter burst from Jude, filling the open air with his amusement and joy as he leaned back in his place. Y/N tried to discourage him by lightly shoving him though it only encouraged more waves of laughter from Jude. And in the end she had to give up; the sound of happiness, even when originating from mockery, was contagious.

Eventually, Jude let himself calm down. He took a few deep inhales before saying, small laughs still slipping passed his lips, "Oh yes. How could I ever forget?" Being such vivid detail of their childhood and something Jobe could never deny because everyone remembered it, his crush on Y/N was one of the easiest things Jude could tease his brother about.

"The point is— the point is, Jude, yeah," she stressed, dragging her words to overpower his laughter and inability to listen, "you know how I found out about it?" Soon, silence fell over Jude for a second. He tilted his head in thought though nothing relevant came to mind so he shook his head. So Y/N admitted it, straightforward. "He just told me."

His eyes grew narrow. "He told you," he said plainly, his voice dripping with doubt. "Just like that?"

All the possible answers he expected, and Y/N managed to say none of them and less. This whole time he thought Y/N knew about the crush because of him and her brother. Quite unreasonably, the older boys—who had discovered everything from a discussion between their moms—had teased Jobe about the crush when they were younger, and Jude assumed Y/N heard about it in passing.

Turns out that Jude couldn't have been farther from the truth. He had assumed everyone was involved in the network of information except for the person who was responsible for its creation.

"He just told me," Y/N, too, plainly said, her voice somehow expressing empathy for the confusing nature of the situation. She let her chest rise as she turned towards Jude, speaking to him directly. "He mentioned that even though that's how he felt, he knew that it wasn't about to be a forever thing. That's why he was so cool about it– so there was nothing for me to do than also be cool about it."

When Jobe discovered his crush on Y/N, he soon realised that it wouldn't last the way others assumed it would. That crush was a dream, an irrational mix of reality and fantasy and imagination—an accumulation of his favoured elements about his best friend. That's all it was and that's all it ever would be.

Truthfully, Jobe loved Y/N. He did, really, but that was it. He loved her but he knew he could love someone else more and in a different way, first witnessing such when Y/N had been with her first boyfriend. He loved her and she equally loved him too, and that was more than enough. They didn't need more of each other than what they had already established together.

Until they both found their other halves– something they wouldn't find in one another– they were each other's first-person for now, and Jobe was perfectly okay with that.

And as Jobe grew out of crushing on Y/N, he only gained more perspective. All thoughts about Y/N—these desires—never went beyond wanting a friendship with her. There was love but they weren't and never would be intimately bonded to one another. She wasn't his whole world. There was much more beyond his initial ideals about Y/N. He could live with her simply being his best friend for their lifetimes together.

"I'm just saying... you're always asking what makes me and Jobe's tight like that: we give each other permission to feel, both the positive and negative emotions. We give each other grace to be in tune with ourselves first, understanding our baseline feelings and thoughts. And when we can do those things alone and separately, it makes doing them together much easier, you know?"

Sighing, a semblance of a smile appeared upon her face as she turned away from Jude and towards the sea, appreciating its strong yet delicate movements all over and under itself. "Everything is just free to flow... kinda like the waves."

Jude couldn't find himself disagreeing with any of Y/N's words, and a lot of Y/N and Jobe's general interactions during this holiday proved them to be true.

They understood each other beyond spoken words. Their smiles and laughter were always real, wide and overtly alive. Their arguments, though sometimes heated, still held understanding and eventual compromise; there was never a day where they ended things on bad terms. They let their happiness be happiness and they let their sadness exist as sadness. They let their anger present itself as anger. Never to exploit or irritate others, but to let it diminish and falter into safer feelings.

And there was something to learn with that, something to take in and adopt for his own good. But Jude, of course, knew he couldn't just let Y/N gain a win over him like that. Disrupt the moment with a joke. He leaned his head back. "Or maybe it's because you guys are younger siblings."

Confusion briefly laced Y/N's facial expression, weakened with slight laughter. "What?"

"Just think about it," Jude started, "Jobe is my younger brother and you've been the youngest sibling for most of your life as of now and we all know how younger siblings are."

She shook her head and waved him off. She didn't appreciate the emphasis on younger siblings. "I fail to see the connection. If there even is one." Technically, Jude was right (unfortunately) but he was also wrong. In theory, sure, she could understand where his words fit. But in practice, they didn't hold much weight. 'Cause between the four eldest siblings between the two families—in terms of maturity, reliability and trustworthiness to watch over others—Y/N could confidently say that she felt like the eldest with the way she could manage them during their holidays.

"Okay," he said, though the sarcasm was evident in his voice.

"I'm not going to affirm or deny your argument. Besides, it already falls flat by the fact that I'm older." Only by a sole month but that wasn't the point.

There was more to say. Jude could have said more for his defence—there was more to say if he really wanted to. But for now, he let Y/N win. Instead, he let Y/N be happy, he let himself be happy as they shared all kinds of banter and laughter in the night sky.

This was what he wanted, what she initially wanted—what she initially had gone out seeking for and specifically with Jude. And this, supposedly by the power of the universe and stars, was what they were supposed to have and be all along—friends, two people indefinitely intertwined together.

It was quite lovely. It all felt lovely for Jude. To spend time alone with Y/N without her being on edge. To be the one responsible for her joys and her laughter. To share conversations that were outside of his usual scope. To have moments with Y/N that didn't involve their brothers. They were good together as friends. That wasn't to say they were any better than Jobe and Y/N or Jude and her brother. But they were indeed better and more defined than what they used to be and it was all for the better. Two individuals who could interact with one another beyond their familial ties.

And even though what they had wasn't what he wanted, for now, it was enough for Jude. Having Y/N in his good graces was more than enough.

Though he knew their current state wasn't enough for someone else. Jude let his head hang, already knowing the conversation would go south. "What you have with Jobe... is that what you want with me?"

Y/N paused in her movements, thoughts quickly getting in order. "What we have—or some of it at least—it's not unique to your brother," she explained. Though slightly exasperated, her voice remained soft and sweet with understanding. "I have that with everyone. So naturally yes."

"And do you feel like you have that with me?" He wondered.

Her eyes narrowed at his words. "I think you already know that answer, Jude," she said, pointedly. Her softness and sweetness still left room for frustration and annoyance to express themselves. "And before you ask me, I don't know why. I don't know."

Unfortunately, being on good terms didn't cancel out everything that once had them on bad terms. There was still something missing in their friendship that she didn't lack with others. She could have interesting and intrinsic conversations with the parents. She had a bond that was playful and maternal with her younger siblings. She and her brother always found it difficult to stray away from a discussion when it started. She had what she had with Jobe. Some relationships applied to her and the next person over, both in the same or opposite way.

Then there was Jude. Sure, they were close—they were closer than what they used to be—but the distance between them was evident and there, or at least in her eyes. Y/N wanted to be friends, she wanted the two to work out for the better. Y/N didn't want to be angry, sad or annoyed with Jude, she took no joy in any of it. But it was hard to be satisfied when she felt like she was the main one pouring into their friendship while Jude only offered enough to keep them alive while they could be. So much so that she sometimes questioned his intentions with wanting to be her friend.

Still, Y/N tried to remain positive as she turned the conversation positive. "But I understand that these things take time to happen. We share history, and that's not going to go away overnight and probably never will. But I don't think that should stop us from being friends. I want to be your friend. I know that well 'cause you always want to remind me that that's all I've wanted since we were kids."

Letting a low hum, a faint smirk pinched at his cheeks. "I gotta make sure you don't forget," he said.

"It's hard to forget," she said, smiling faintly as she glanced down at her hands. Then without much thought to the question—and the answer—she wondered, "Do you want to be friends with me, Jude?"

A mindless question only required a mindless answer. Yet Jude could only respond with, "Well, um— I mean." He could only stumble over his words; his nerves were acting up. He wanted to answer the question truthfully as Y/N wanted, but it was difficult when things weren't straightforward. Unfortunately, he couldn't just say yes in this case.

But of course, Y/N was unaware of this. In her eyes, his response was a rejection of her friendship. "Oh. Okay, wow." She chuckled, snatching her hand away from Jude. Her smiling exterior contrasted with the stinging burn she felt inward.

Jude tried to reach for Y/N only for her to fold her arms. His face fell, wincing in deep guilt. "Y/N." It wasn't his intention to upset her, but he recognised that he did so nonetheless.

"I-I just didn't think that would be such a difficult question to answer." She stared aimlessly towards the sea, biting down on her lip. She refused to meet his gaze; tears would be shed if she did. "That's all."

She wanted to cave in and hug herself to the point where she just fell into the earth, perhaps even disappear into infinite oblivion and never be found again. She felt embarrassed, beyond humiliated. For the past few weeks, Y/N had given Jude the benefit of the doubt. She had given them another chance, permission to pursue this friendship again. Not for the sake of just being friends but because he said that's what he wanted, and truthfully that's what Y/N wanted too—a mutual agreement.

Or at least that's what Y/N thought. For a want Jude had wanted since forever, the switch-up definitely took her off guard. And now her mind couldn't seem to cast out the doubts tumbling in. Questions about whether Jude actually wanted to be her friend all this time, whether he was just leading her on just to beat her down later on. Questions regarding his sincerity and concern for her. Questions over whether he was only putting up a front as her friend, perhaps he was only making her smile and laugh out of pity and obligation for his past actions.

All this time Y/N had this genuine want to be friends with Jude, something she had been building up to accommodate. So to see that suddenly not be reciprocated, after these last few months, she could only feel pure betrayal. All he had to say was one word. It would have validated her thoughts, calmed her doubts and put her mind at ease. A simple yes, but even that he failed to do—he outright refused.

But hey, it was not like that was anything new.

Maybe Y/N was reaching for something that just wasn't meant to be, even with the input of the universe. It wasn't hard to recall that Jude and Y/N didn't begin as friends, and for the longest time despite the many chances, they were never moved to become friends. Jude's unfavourable behaviour and attitude towards her used to be habitual—so normalised to the point where Y/N would remain unphased from time to time.

She had gotten so excited, so caught up about this idea of friendship—forming something good and special with Jude—that she failed to realise he could easily fall back into his previous ways just as quickly as he fell out of them. It slipped her mind that he didn't have to stay faithful to their mutual agreement.

So it was a real possibility– Jude didn't want to be friends with Y/N as much as she thought he did. And perhaps Y/N needed to accept it and let him go. Maybe that's why the two were together alone; perhaps Jude wanted to let her down softly in hopes that the blow would hurt less with the absence of others.

But even that didn't sound like enough to Y/N. He should have just rejected her at the party in front of everyone and the internet, to make her understand that she had to stop holding out hope for someone that didn't want her in the first place. That she was delusional for ever thinking that Jude wanted something meaningful with her in the first place.

This disaster, it was all on her.

"You don't understand. It's not like that," Jude pled. He knew reaching her was only going to get harder from here. It was never like that. It was never like that. Not even for a moment.

"Then tell me, Jude." She wore a facial expression that was tired and withdrawn. Tired of the humiliation and rejection she always had to face at the hands of Jude. Was she really that easy of a target? She exhaled as she closed her eyes. "Help me understand. I want to feel for you, but I can't if I don't understand. What about the thought of being friends with me is so hard for you to hear about? So much that you can't even answer my question."

It would be fitting to say that Y/N was fed up. She had spent many years being disappointed and annoyed by Jude, and by some point she had gotten used to it. But they made up and discovered new ground for them to settle on. She gave him another chance to do right by her. But of course, he couldn't resist doing her wrong all over again.

Did Jude do all of that just to bring her down, to make her deeply feel all that disappointment and annoyance again all at once? Was this just another cruel way for him to have another victory over her? Was she so terrible that she couldn't be desired as a friend by the very guy who was desired by everyone else?

"I know. It's just—" Jude released a slow breath. Because he knew that after this he wasn't about to get another chance to explain himself a third time. Y/N was tired and sad and feeling all kinds of ways towards him. He could no longer give half-truths like last time; only the simple truth would suffice. "Just know that I haven't lied, just left out a few things before," he assured, though he wasn't sure it was assuring.

Opening her eyes, Y/N let out a sigh. "What is it?"

Jude mumbled under his breath as he pinched his eyebrow. No half-truths, just the simple truth. "You know Jobe's crush on you?" Ironic. The very thing he had been laughing at only moments ago was the same thing bringing him rightful torment and embarrassment.

She quickly turned to Jude, her nose scrunched up. "What about it?" At first, she felt like the conversation was heading in the wrong direction. But Jude didn't correct himself or anything so she didn't say anything further.

"You know that he doesn't talk about you a lot to me, right?" Her face still remained confused but she nodded nonetheless. "Okay well when his crush on you was at his peak, he would talk a lot about you, like what he liked about you and all. He didn't say all that to me but to my mum, his friends, you know? But I would still be around sometimes hearing everything he was saying. And... I think me back then found his words so convincing that his crush on you kinda rubbed off on me."

Y/N initially heard the humour behind his words before her eyes widened; the realisation came in all at once that surrounding distractions became null. Along with Jobe at some point, Jude had had a crush on her.

"I never really acknowledged it so I didn't really try to concern myself with you." Jude tilted his head as he rubbed his jaw. He was struggling with his words; to be outwardly vulnerable took a lot of courage. "My... my crush for you was because of Jobe's crush on you so it would fade."

"I thought it would fade. Jobe's crush on you eventually faded but... I don't think mine ever did. I still didn't acknowledge it because we weren't on good terms for a long time nor we were even friends. I didn't think what I was feeling about you was, like, real. And then we made up, and I still felt the same as before." Sniffling, Jude turned to look at Y/N and captured her gaze. It was quite easy in fact. From his eyes to his all-around facial expression; it was nothing short of devastation and truth—it was all rather captivating. "I still do."

Y/N had to lean back in her place and ponder for a moment or more. What Jude was saying—there was a lot to take in and accept. There was far more than enough going on, in her mind, in her heart. Feeling more emotions than she was used to carrying. All in one night she and Jude went from being simply friends to almost reverting to their previous relations to then finally discovering that, actually, Jude had liked her all this time. And that slightly scared her because unlike before, she wholeheartedly believed every word he spoke.

"The reason I didn't say anything to being friends with you isn't 'cause I don't want to be friends. I'm not cruel like that you know," he chuckled, bitterly. He disliked how despite everything he felt for her, he managed to make her feel like he felt the opposite. One couldn't be further from the truth. "Obviously, I want to be friends, Y/N. It's just hard answering the question knowing that I want more than that. That's all."

She blinked a few times before responding, "Why didn't you tell me before?" Believing Jude didn't cancel out the remaining gaps in the story. If Jude had felt for her all this time– just over five years– why was he only telling her now?

"Because," Jude strung out a breath, slightly deflating a bit. He began to toy with his fingers. "After everything that's happened between us, I didn't think it was fair for me to feel that way towards you."

He had tried to play it off with denial for a while but the truth always persevered above others—Jude had feelings for Y/N. There was uncertainty as to what was what but he could definitively say that he liked her, and he was in way too deep to return them. But he also knew well that everything he felt for Y/N was disproportionate to what he should feel for her, what he deserved to feel for her.

He always assumed that's why Jobe never made the effort to make them friends, why Jobe made it his mission to remind Jude who Y/N ended up being friends with despite her initial intentions. Truthfully, he was undeserving of her feelings, of her time, of her energy. He was undeserving of her altogether.

Yet weirdly, Y/N never acted like that was the case. And if she believed it then she never displayed that through her words or actions. Since they made up, she showed him nothing but grace and understanding. Treated him like she treated her siblings and Jobe, and that only made Jude feel immense guilt. While he was struggling to give her his slightest parts, she managed to always give him her all.

It made him wonder sometimes why she was so willing to be his friend. Yes, she forgave him and yes, they reconciled and started over again. Still, doubts wandered about in Jude's mind more than they drifted into nothing. He was delusional—to think that they could exist as something beyond friends, to think his friendship with her could even slightly match what she shared with Jobe. While Jobe had been poetic and compared Y/N to the sky and the oceans, Jude had only brought Y/N plain misery in the past.

Yeah, he didn't stand a chance.

Besides, it was very likely everything he felt for her was narrow and simply one-sided. After everything that has happened between the two, after all the distress Jude had once brought into her life, why would she feel anything for him?

Jude cleared his throat. "But yeah, that's what I wanted to tell you." He said everything that needed to be said. He spoke the truth and withheld no further truths. Still, he didn't know if he felt any better or relieved after doing so. Whether it was worth it or not would be up to Y/N's verdict. "I'm sorry if I just piled everything on you like that."

She shook her hand as she waved him off. "I asked so... you shouldn't feel like that," Y/N said, the sound of her words slowly faltering. There wasn't much to say.

Evidently, there was a reluctance for the two to continue the conversation, to define what they now were and what they would be after tonight. A lot was said and a lot needed to be taken in. The want to abandon the discussion was there and to even sit in silence was favourable at this point. But they were mature, young adults; they would see it through until the end. At least they had the comfort of the sky and the ocean; even with the uncertainty of Jude and Y/N to stretch beyond the following day, the two bodies would exist in the morning and forever after that.

Suddenly, Jude huffed out a small laugh. "Jobe does say that kindness is your best and worst quality," he pointed out as a sad smile pulled at his lips.

Her brows drifted up, her head tilting slightly. "Really?"

"Yeah. I mean look at us now." Jude gestured between the two, and he was right. They were friends—or had only been able to be friends—because she had been kind enough to extend some grace to him a few months ago. It was all her while he created problem after problem for the pair.

"Take away the last five minutes. We are where we are because I allowed it. I forgave you—"

"And you were understandably ready to take that back."

"Yes, I know. I know," she spoke with a calm tone. She needed Jude to understand that she didn't want to be argumentative, she didn't want to fall into another argument. They needed to finish the conversation for both of their sakes. "But now I understand things better now. About you, about me."

He closed his eyes and exhaled deeply. "Yeah? Like what?" His voice carried a sense of resignation as if he had already accepted his fate. It's okay. Just say it. I don't want to be friends anymore, Jude.

"Jude." Suddenly, there was a change in how she spoke. Her voice, her tone—it was small yet measured and smooth and effortlessly persuasive. So much so that Y/N was able to pull Jude away from his conflicting thoughts. She caught his gaze with hers and rewarded him with a gentle smile. "I might like you as much as you like me."

He claimed that he had a crush on her though Y/N didn't think that was the correct label. Who did once have a crush on her was Jobe. Things were easy and casual and normal after he told her. They were still able to be friends effortlessly almost like he had never told her in the first. Y/N was for the most part, unaffected.

But it was different with Jude. There was something there for sure. She could feel the words he spoke. She wanted him to resume talking whenever he stopped. Even when he committed wrong, she found herself gravitating towards him. Jude and Jobe shared the same eyes yet she only found Jude's to be enchanting. Her gaze for him reflected considerable admiration and longing. For a person she couldn't stand for the longest time, she couldn't bring herself to look away.

And everything she had internalised about him, Jude almost felt the exact same. There was nothing easy or casual or normal about the two.

Jude paused in his movements as his mouth fell open. "Oh?" His voice grew a few octaves.

Despite feeling her cheeks grow warm, she continued to hold his gaze which wasn't hard considering Jude refused to look away too, and nodded slowly. "Yeah..."

Everything, from the beginning of the discussion to now, it was all overwhelming 'cause for once, they could finally say I understand.

They used to be two individuals who were thought to be incompatible and barred from ever experiencing one another. Their problems were endless yet weirdly similar every time. The first time they couldn't bear to be friends only to discover that was the fault of misguided feelings. The second time they questioned their friendship only to discover that was at the fault of their own buried and undisclosed feelings—feelings Jude once thought to be one-sided, feelings Y/N didn't notice up until recent moments.

Jude and Y/N thought that they would stop there, at friends. But now feelings, intentional yet confusing, were involved and from both sides.

And that kinda left the two in an awkward position. They didn't exactly know where to go from where they were, the grey area between friends and lovers(?). Was it best to pull away and take things slowly, or close the gap and rush to experience all the things they had missed out on by their own faults? An awkward position indeed.

But it was a good, awkward position. It would let the pair start fresh, reimagine their dynamics and bring to reality what they should have been from the beginning. They were walking on fairly new territory but that was something they would soon learn to navigate with ease. 'Cause now there was a sense of relief to everything that was about Jude and Y/N. For the longest time, they were plagued by secrets upon secrets that crafted nothing but distrust, hostility, anger, annoyance and probably more.

Now, they could rid themselves of everything harmful and damaging. That anger, that hostility, that annoyance– could perhaps be laid to rest to make way for all things infant and shy yet genuine between them. That desire, that tenderness, that love and all coming from both directions. It was thrilling and fascinating to observe and something new.

Her gaze shifted down towards her hands, clasping them together. "That doesn't take away from the fact that you've fucked me over. So much that you managed to fuck yourself over." While harsh she knew that she had to point out Jude's previous wrongs, especially knowing how he was one to get in over his head over the smallest things. She had to let him know that whatever they ended up being after tonight, it was because she chose to let them happen. She had control over how they would end or continue as a pair.

Jude nodded in agreement. "I know." A drop in his tone, yet one could hear the hint of happiness in his voice. He didn't want to misplace his emotions in the conversation, he really didn't. Though it was hard not to now after discovering his once unreciprocated feelings were actually reciprocated from the very person he had unknowingly been crushing on since forever. Maybe he wasn't so delusional for holding on to hope.

"But," she breathed in a good lungful as a smile budded upon her lips. Witnessing Jude's unserious demeanour was making it hard to maintain her own. "I also think you're wonderful."

"Wonderful?"

"I remember my mum describing you as wonderful once," she explained briefly. "Jude, he's wonderful, she said or whatever. But because we never got along before I always thought being wonderful was something negative rather than it being positive. And even after that, I still found you wonderful. Maybe not towards me but still wonderful. Wonderful but in the way my mum intended for me to understand which makes sense; my mum is never wrong."

"Your mum is never wrong," Jude repeated with a laugh.

"Can I be real with you for a second?" When he nodded it was then when Y/N decided to drop her guard, and she didn't plan to pull it back up in front of Jude again. She took hold of his hand and let their fingers intertwine. "I want wonderful, Jude. I want us to have wonderful. I know you have done some questionable things—I have too—but that doesn't stop us from deserving it. We deserve this for us."

She was right. Jude and Y/N have spent so much energy and time on one another only to share many poor experiences. They have spent so much time hating just to hate, despising each other for reasons beyond knowledge. They have spent so much time, so many years exchanging harsh and miserable feelings. Over misunderstandings, over uninformed decisions as kids. So much negative when it should have been all positive and happy and gleeful. It cost them the love and affection they were supposed to experience in the first place.

And that's why they deserved to like each other without shame or guilt, to be young and in love without the judgement of others. Jude deserved to like Y/N without a reminder of his past actions; she forgave him after all. Y/N deserved to like Jude—to experience wonderful—despite his past actions. They deserved to experience love for what it was, and specifically with each other.

This was the final plea. She was tired of getting only half of Jude all the time, tired of seeing strangers receive more of Jude than she ever did. For once in her life, she wanted to be selfish and have him whole.

Jude glanced at their interlocked hands, feeling his lips curve upward as he let their hands sway a bit. Testing out the waters. And he couldn't lie, he enjoyed the moment more than he could have ever imagined. "I do too. Probably why we never worked as friends." He returned his gaze to Y/N and beamed even more when he realised they were carrying the same expression; glances of guiltless delight. "Wonderful sounds great."

The universe and the stars were wrong to initially assign Y/N and Jude as friends. A straight misdirection of fate. Because even if that intention had been a reality for a little longer, no matter how hard the pair tried, the feelings would've surfaced eventually. And now they were here, fully disclosed and expressed from both sides. All because Y/N and Jude extended grace and gave themselves—and each other—permission to feel for one another truthfully.

So when they were over the silence gazing, they fell into a kiss that was softly endearing and delicate. For the lost time they would never be able to retrieve. For the feelings that were forever lost in time. For the time they weren't able to acknowledge their feelings for what they were. For the fact that they weren't able to fall in love traditionally. For all the love and fondness that was shadowed by misunderstandings over the years.

This moment– this was exclusively theirs to treasure.

Pulling apart they still craved one another, reasonably; their lips just barely touching to breathe each other in, one nose leaning on another for that extra contact, eyes closed so their remaining senses could focus on the person they had been deprived of for what felt like a lifetime.

What brought Jude to pull away further was the distant sound of the sea and the sight of the moon from the corner of his eye. He let out a lighthearted chuckle. If that was the case then his attention never really shifted away from Y/N. "Don't tell my brother."

"Only if you don't tell mine."

[mad-hunts]

here comes a list of the different levels of friends that you can be with barton, because i said that i would explain what being a ' level 2 friend ' to him would mean and i fully intend to keep that promise! so here we gooo.

level 1 friends: you're the type of friend to barton that he would wave to whenever he sees you. he would also complain about his work with you, but NEVER about his second 'business.' ( his organ trafficking && dollmaking. ) and in turn, he would let you complain about your work to him as well, or anything that might be bothering you. barton isn't really serious about your relationship emotionally, but he will encourage you and praise you for accomplishments / achievements. you two also may share a few interests, which barton enjoys talking with you about.

level 2 friends: you're the type of friend to barton that he is now moderately emotionally invested in. barton will DEFINITELY share his number with you at this stage, so expect him to call you if he needs something, or even if he just wants to talk with you. he also trusts you to a medium level and will help you reach your goals without ever being asked for it. barton does subconsciously have the expectation that you are willing to do the same for him, however, which is really neither a good thing nor a bad thing. you two go beyond just having similar interests... you share certain values with him and/or ideals, and because of that, barton sees you as someone he can depend upon. he would also save you in an emergency situation, BUT i can not say for sure that he will be willing to die for you.

level 3 friends: barton is now FULLY emotionally invested in you, so don't expect to be getting rid of him anytime soon! because you're stuck with him now, MUAHAHAH. barton will do things like raising a toast to you just because you're friends and will reach out to you himself whenever he sees that you're struggling with something. barton also lets you take a glimpse at what's really going on in his head sometimes, and in return, he'll be there for you as well whenever you need him. at this stage, literally, all you need to do is be around barton to make him smile. expect him to feel safe enough to be as silly as he wants around you and do things like give you unprompted hugs + allow you to cuddle with him. barton trusts you with his life, and he would put himself at risk of dying to protect you. so, yes, he would be willing to die for you.

[chknbzkt]

Oh gosh I just read your comic where Sun falls(also unrelated but I love the way you draw them all), poor Moon(and probably Monty when he finds out) seeing that, will Sun be okay? Or is he...Well...Dead?

Oooo gentle yoink right in the heartstrings hereee we goooo

It was a Really high fall, and poor Sun landed right on his head where all his memory bits are

It’s bad. Those kids weren’t exaggerating, they’re screaming in horror at the mechanical equivalent to watching someone crack their head open like an egg after falling from the third story

And to say the damage was mostly irreparable would be underselling things a wee bit

It’s a Ship of Theseus situation, his engineers and idk, robot neurologists?? do what they can, but the majority of Sun’s memories and personality were destroyed alongside his old head. When they’re done he looks brand spanking new, but at what cost?

Moon and Monty are heartbroken. Monty has put a ton of dedication into his relationship with both of them, but it hits Moon harder because they’ve been there from the very start. When the first thing Sun asked upon seeing Moon for the first time in 2 months was “Heeello! My name is Sundrop! What’s yours?” it killed him. It ached, the sudden feeling of hollow loneliness. And the knowledge that they’d have to explain this to Monty.

Now this all seems depressing as shit, but this story carries themes revolving around togetherness and mutuality in the face of the worst circumstances.

Sun may be a blank slate for the most part, but he’s not naive or anything. Much more, I said a majority of his memories went kaput. Sunny has always been a social butterfly (it’s in his programming for goodness sake of course he would be), and despite how new everything feels everything in this daycare has this subtle but palpable sense of familiarity and nostalgia.

Which is to say nothing of the odd habits and compulsions to do things for reasons he doesn’t understand immediately. Things he can’t explain, but they feel right. Like ignoring his directive to tidy up balls of paper left by the kids because Moon likes batting them around and cleaning up after. Or pinning back the blankets draped over the back entrance to their room because Monty uses it and, bless his heart, keeps getting his scutes hung in them like a dumbass

It’s intriguing. Moreso whenever he gets the warm and fuzzies on the odd occasions he catches his shy and strangely avoidant moon-themed twin outside of working hours.

Not the warm and fuzzies he gets when his charges for the day flood through the daycare doors. A more personal and deep-rooted warm and fuzzies. A biting feeling that he knows this person, but he only met them briefly a few days ago.

And don’t get me started on the nifty gator that sneaks in during the wee hours of the night. He can’t make heads or tails of what they’re saying but he Knows there’s connections and he wants to know What.

I may never get around to drawing it, who knows we’ll se about story snippets here and there, but Sun essentially refamiliarizes himself with Moon and rebuilds the bond he shared with his sibling (he wants to know them SO BAD but they want space to process all the MEMORIES BETWEEN THEM THEYVE LOST AGSJSGSJSG), and on the other hand he falls in love with Monty all over again, this time instead of Monty vying for his attention, it goes the other way

Sun eventually learning the full scope of what caused all this. Him being drained, but also… relieved. But all throughout his journey to rediscover what was lost… finally relearning what made Moon so important to him and vice versa. Finally relearning why they both feel in love with this stupid gator and his stupid dumb lopsided smile and his stupid dumb glasses-

Him sitting them down and asking, begging to let him know them again. Because he feels so disjointed and off and he knows it’s because of them and he wants to fill the holes their absence has left. He wants to love them all over again.

You have rekindled many thoughts about this comic I made in a single night during a single discord livestream oh noooooo 😭💖

[pomefioredove]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ snuggles for hire

summary: first years try helping you out with your touch-starved problem type of post: short fics (blurbs?) characters: leona, floyd, jade, vil additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

"Really? That's it?" Ace scoffs.

"So, they haven't been hugged in a while. Okay? Neither has Deuce,"

Deuce glares. It's almost menacing. "That's not true, and you know it! I get lots of hugs every time I visit home!"

"I do, too. But that's just the thing, though, ain't it?" Epel says. "They don't have no home to get hugs from."

The huddle of first years goes quiet. Some days, you become such a part of their world, they forget you're really not from it.

"...Okay, point taken," Ace sighs. "But they have Grim! And he only stinks like, half the time!"

"If memory serves, Grim usually sleeps on the floor..." Epel says. "Poor prefect, all lonely. Now even their sleep is suffering 'cause of it!"

Jack rubs the back of his neck. "It must be tough, not having anything to look forward to,"

Another melancholy silence. Finally, Ace stands, hands on his hips.

"Well, let's do something about it, then. There are tons of boys at this school- one of them should be willing to help,"

It's eight in the morning after another disappointing attempt at rest, and now you can't even sleep in. Damn visitors.

You throw open the front door.

"What? What could you possibly- wh- Leona?"

The housewarden smirks. He looks a little too proud of himself for this early in the morning...

"A little wolfie told me you weren't sleeping well. Lucky for you, that's my specialty. Now, are you gonna let me in, or what?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, letting himself in and making himself comfortable on the couch in the foyer.

He pats the spot next to him.

"Listen..." you say. "I don't know what you heard, but I'm fine."

"Don't be proud. I don't pity you, I just... owe you. Now get your butt over here, yeah?"

Leona isn't so scary when he's asleep. He's more like... the world's largest pillow. Of course, you're at risk of being smothered until you crawl into a better position, but once you're on top, he's surprisingly warm and comfortable.

You can tell you're being watched before you hear anything.

And you think you might just know wh-

"Shrimpyyy!"

For two boys so tall, the tweels are awfully quiet. Especially when it comes to "surprising" you in random places. This time: the hall.

Floyd pulls you into a bone-crushing hug while Jade watches from behind, smiling subtly.

When he finally lets you down, you're dizzy. (Though, at this point, you'll take whatever physical touch you can get).

"Shrimpyyy, why didn't you tell us you were lonely? We had to squeeze it outta Spade," Floyd pouts.

"His face makes fascinating expressions when he's afraid," Jade says, merrily.

Before you can answer, Floyd's already got you under his arm (seriously? Where do they find the strength?) and is heading straight towards the hall of mirrors.

You already know there's no getting out of this one...

Floyd is, unsurprisingly, all over, from leaning his whole body weight against you to lying across your lap, to biting your shoulder (in his sleep...?) Oh, and he drools, too.

Jade sits on your other side, one hand holding yours, the other leafing through an almanac from twenty years ago.

You're almost hesitant to admit just how nice it really is.

"And nothing else has worked?" Vil says, throwing open the door to your bedroom with no regard for a "hello" or, "how are you?"

You blink. "...Hello to you, too. May I ask what you're talking about?"

He storms inside, standing over you with his hands on his hips.

"Just that I overheard Epel Felmier asking my vice housewarden if he would be willing to satisfy your need for physical affection. You've been struggling? With sleep? And you didn't think to come to me, first?"

He almost sounds... offended that you didn't.

"...Well... I wasn't making a big deal about it,"

"So, no teas, no vitamins, no pills- nothing has helped?"

You shake your head. He sighs.

"Perhaps it is purely psychological... very well. Get up. I hope you don't toss and turn much, I'm a light sleeper,"

Vil is completely still when he sleeps. No tossing, no turning, no drooling, no snoring. He also insists on sleeping on his back, you, clinging to his side, and a single arm around you. Just as elegant as when he's awake. He'd be a true sleeping beauty if not for the mumbles of nonsense that come from him every few minutes. You swear you can make out your own name, once or twice or three times...

He is warm nonetheless, and his mumbles and idle stroking of his fingers on your waist is enough to satisfy you for a night of good sleep.

[jazjelspen]

my angel baby

(alastor w/ angel daughter reader)

[caution!!: EPISODE 8 & 6 SPOILERS. NOT PROOFREAD]

(notes: alastor joins charlie and vaggie in heaven to convince them about the hazbin hotel. angel reader physically resembles a fawn. )

(right now this is considered a oneshot, unless there is a very high demand for a part 2 I'll happily make another one for funzies!)

(PART 2 IS OUT!!!)

(also apologies if alastor's last name isnt actually altruist LMAo I kinda just wrote it assuming so 😭 )

You made it to heaven, lucky you.

Heaven was surely a treat, you lived your days with the upmost happiness, the light of heaven shining on your skin with kisses as if praising you for your goodness and your sacrifices,

all your sacrifices.

You were currently taking the job over for St. Peter at the gates of heaven for just a few minutes to await for any wondering souls to appear, to help guide them while he came back from a lunch break. Normally they wouldn't allow a human soul like yourself with little experience in this kind of task to take charge of such an important job, but you were close to many of the high ranking angels and you have proved your proficiency in tasks that you set your mind to, so you were glad to help those in need.

You stood there reading through the millions of pages looking over all kinds of names, all seemed like names that you wouldn't normally hear back in your time when you died. Some you liked, others didn't exactly pique your interest much, but the advancement of names since the 1930s surely proved how much times have changed and how quickly time seems to pass in heaven.

You wonder if it is in hell too.

'Hell?..' you wondered as you shook your head and sighed, your mind has been on that place lately and you wondered if it was even worth the rent free space in your mind.

You were currently slouched over the book and decided to close it with a glum look on your face, your elbows now resting on the golden podium and your hands cupping your face.

Geez, and you've been thinking a lot about your old man.

What-- no wait-

You shouldn't call him your old man, let alone your dad, not even father, pops-- not even by his damn name.

Even so, as much as you hated it.. you couldn't help but still use his last name sometimes since it's what you were given when you were first taken in.

Your last name?.. why, you're forgetting already?

_____ Altruist is who you a---

"HELLO??"

You snapped out of your thoughts as your head slipped from under your palms, face planting onto the cover of the enormous book. In embarrassment you snapped your head back up and your wings followed suit, spreading open behind you in shock as your eyes searched for the voice that called out to you from below.

You finally darted down to see three oddly shaped figures, your panicked vision soon relaxing to see two girls and a man dressed in red from tip to toe.

How peculiar.

Your eyes only set on the girl at the moment since she was the one waving at you and basically begging for your attention.

"Hello hello! uh.. Down here!" The girl with long locks of pale yellow hair waved, her smile widening when seeing she's caught your attention.

"Ah- yes yes! Hello hello! Welcome to Heaven! May I.. uh-" you scrambled nervously to open the book in the middle of it, "May I have your name please?"

She nodded, also returning a bit of a shy attitude back "Yes of course! My names Charlie Morningstar!"

Just like that you flicked the pages to go to the names that sounded similar to the girl's, mumbling her name under your breath as your finger traced down each name on the list.. to your dismay you couldn't find it.

"You don't seem to be on the list ma'am.. how weird.. does this usually happen with St. Peter?.." you spoke in concern, mumbling the last part to yourself.

The girl then started to explain something about her dad getting her a meeting, your mind a little clouded still trying to find her name until you heard the forbidden name that no one inside the pearly gates ever attempted to say out loud.

"-- maybe try, Lucifer.. Morning...star-"

And just like that you slammed the book closed, no words coming out of your mouth but an exasperated look of shock freezing your face.

"Oh-hoho... that explains so much--" you gave her a small sheepish smile, awkwardly looking off to the side where your eyes couldn't help but drag themselves to the man dressed in red.

"Miss you don't think.. you could've..." your eyes at first looked at the man's waist, his coat lightly shredded at the ends and the stripes of the long suit guided your eyes upwards "-gotten..." up and up and your eyes met his. The red eyes, the ears, the small horns, the horrific aura, and..

Oh dear, you'd recognize that damned smile anywhere.

"--lost..?" the end of your sentence dragged on, taking a long while to finish since all you could think about is how this man is at the front door step of the place he shouldn't even be considered in being let to enter.

Alastor, your father from the living realm. Not connected by blood but by life and connection.

The man where you got your last name from by being taken in and called his daughter.

The red deer demon seemed to recognize you as well, a spark in his devilish eyes proved it so, but it was very brief since he more or less also seemed to relish the look on your face with his smile stretched further up.. however further up it could get.

Charlie seemed concerned at your reaction, waving her hand in front of your face gently as if to get you out of this trance. "Heyyy... are you okay?.." she asked with genuine worry until all of you were focused away from this bizarre moment when a set of three angels befell before you all. The two seraphims and finally-- St. Peter off from his break.

"_____. We can take it from here, we appreciate the help." The highest and oldest seraphim announced your name and her appreciation while gliding down a bit more earlier than the blonde angel you covered for, she and the younger seraphim's forms going from their true to more human-like appearances.

"_____! My dear friend thank you so much for covering for me, always a real helper you!" St. Peter popped beside you as he praised you while gently flying beside you, you looked up at him with a small nervous smile before opening your own wings to flap down from his podium and let him get back on the job.

"It's no problem at all, you know me! Always.. happy to help.." you spoke your last words to him before your wings gently took you down to set yourself beside another one of your friends, Emily! You never talked much to Sera that wasn't in a formal setting but Emily seemed so easy to get along with. She gave you a tight squeeze of a hug while saying hello which eased your nerves a bit more, of course they never fully disappeared with the man who ruined everything before you let out your last breath.. standing right in front of you.

The man that brought you up here in the first place.

The seraphims introduced themselves to the three residents of hell, the deer demon more quiet until finally finding a spot of silence to jump in and introduce himself as well.

"Why hello, a real pleasure meeting you two quite the pleasure! Never thought I'd ever get to see an angel up this close in my life HAHA! The names Alastor!"

The voice, the radio static over it, his name.

It was him, you recognized it as if you listened to him on the radio just yesterday, your own personal hell.

Whatever reaction or words the higher ranked angels said seemed to fizzle out of your brain as they were replaced with the memories of your last moments on earth.

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

"Father!" you screamed as you ran up to your childhood home, the home to which you were raised and kept in, your home in which you lived in with your father, Alastor Altruist.

For sometime you had suspected foul play when it came to your father's weird actions when the night came, the tone he spoke through his radio show when announcing several murders happening across and haunting New Orleans. You just didn't want to truly believe that the man that found you, a poor little orphaned baby, and raised you would do such disgusting and diabolical crimes.

You couldn't believe it.. until you finally saw it.

Your legs scrambled and fought each step to become faster, finally reaching the door of your home you slammed it open with a strong kick after jiggling the doorknob didn't work.

You knew the next murder he would commit would happen in your home.. you thanked whatever force that made you disobey him and look through his study since if you didn't you wouldn't know that right now there was blood to be shed.

The door opening and with your kick full of adrenaline and panic it made the door barley cling onto it's hinges. There your father was, on top of a wounded man that seemed to be gurgling and gasping to breathe as the victim attempted to claw at Alastor's grasp. Pieces of glass and wood broken across the entire floor, walls bloodied and worn out, pictures that hung neatly now cracked and lopsided or shattered on the floor.

Whatever happened in here, the victim was sure a fighter in the beginning.

You immediately without hesitation with full force pushed Alastor off the man, pulling the bloodied stranger by his wrist. The victim and you stared for a moment, him mostly realizing that he's being saved by a young girl like you. His lips parted to thank you but you could see Alastor raise his kitchen knife in the air and sprinted toward him to stab him on the back.

With no words left to share or spill you grabbed the stranger by the shoulders and with all your might pushed him and yourself away so that in the end Alastor ended up stabbing nothing but air.

Alastor grunted in frustration, his bloodied smile yet never faltering despite the challenge you now gave him.

The man snapped his head at you, eyes fixated at you before snapping back to his victim and raising his knife up once more, in a haunting motion his steps creeped and creaked towards the injured New Orleans citizen stricken with fear and terror.

Just like that, Alastor slams his knife down with no hesitation. The knife fully in his prey with no inch of the blade uncovered.

Oh-- wait.

That shriek, the sobs, the shaky breathing and the coughs of blood.. that wasn't his victim.

It was you.

His daughter, he stabbed his daughter.

For a moment you could see his crazed smile falter, the humane part of him uncovering itself for a moment, for you.

His little girl was covered in her blood because of him, the little baby he found on that cold rainy day is dying because of him, his bundle of joy that he took years to take care of is leaving him.. and it's all his fault.

He didn't know it was you-- he didn't know you'd be that stupid to sacrifice yourself for some random prick.

He didn't know that in the end, someone as evil as him could have raised someone as selfless as you.

"p..papa..?" you whimpered, your painful coughs of blood spilling out and going down your chin and your neck. "It hurts-- g.. it hurts so much papa.." you cried as the knife in your chest seemed to feel as if it was melting into your skin, becoming one with you. It obviously wasn't but the pain was just that painful.

Alastor's smile faltered and kept trying to stay up, his own set of tears falling down his face and onto your cheeks that were slowly losing life. Regret stabbing his own heart the way he did to yours. He let go of the knife and instead cradled you in his arms, just like how he used to when you would have nightmares as a little girl.

"Shh.. Shh.." he shush you softly as he gently patted your head, moving away any uneven strands of hair he could spot with his hands trembling in regret. "Little one.. don't worry about a thing, papa's here.. " he mumbled, the gentleness replacing what once was pure aggressiveness.

Your eyes slowly started to flutter closed, your pulse slowing down, breathing less profound, your limbs going limp, and your face.. contorting into a peaceful state of slumber.

Alastor watched as you passed in his arms, his faltering smile picking itself up once more to stretch itself across his face with tears pouring out his eyes. This wasn't a smile of joy, it was a smile to hide what he truly felt.. to lie to himself. "My little angel, forgive me please."

Those were his last words to you, words that in the end you couldn't hear.

And that man he tried to kill earlier? He escaped when he was given the chance, Alastor was sure the cops were to invade his home soon.. now there was just one thing left to do before he'd be found once again to pay the consequences.

He took your body to a beautiful forest filled with flower meadows. Alastor knew this was one of your favorite spots as a young girl, why not let you rest here.

Ah but as he was preparing to bury you in your final resting place... that darn deer hunter.

Well, you know the story. Mistaken for a deer, shot, that's the end of Alastor Altruist and his darling daughter, ______ Altruist.

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As you stood there you were awoken from your thoughts with the high angels escorting the princess and her other female companion into the gates of heaven, St. Peter welcoming them humbly with one of heaven's popular songs.

You were frozen, in shock. A chill went down your spine as you felt a foreign energy come closer.

You felt long fingers grapple themselves onto your shoulder which made you dramatically turn towards the hand and away from it.

Your father wanted to talk to you.

Your contrasting colors and appearances made this reunitement even more uncomfortable for you, his demon form seeming to match his disgusting self that he hid from the human world before.

His face was hard to read, especially with that signature smile of his that even in death he would never get rid of.

"Little one, my darling daughter.." he spoke, his voice seemingly trying to seem genuine but the radio filter over it made it feel condescending to you.. as if mocking you.

The look on your face was evident, you missed him so much but hated him with your entire being because of that hidden side he kept for years.

He continued "My little ____... out of all places I never thought I'd see you here. Oh but it's definitely much better than down under my little dove.."

Geez what was he even saying?? What were his intentions..?? You couldn't tell.. after all this time, you couldn't forgive this man, this serial killer, this demon, this.. monster. You couldn't.. not this soon anyways.

You took a deep inhale and exhale before fixing your posture and stance, trying to seem more professional and confident. "Sir, your hosts and companions are ahead of you. You wouldn't want to miss your introduction to a place you'll never see again after this day." Your voice stern and professional, trying your best to be void of emotion.

"Darling.. is that truly a way to greet your dear ol' father?" He spoke, hand stretched out while the other held onto his staff.

"Your friends are waiting on you, don't be late Alastor."

Just like that you turned your heel and gave him the cold shoulder, your wings spread and started flapping. Taking you up and away further into your home.. Alastor watched you as you left him once again, this time by choice.

Ah but he knew, he'd have his darling daughter back soon. His little angel that he cared for will forgive him.. he knew you had to.

With his grin widening even further he walked to catch up to the Princess of hell and her partner into the pearly gates, to see what other thing could entertain him while his daughter snapped back to her senses.

(hello!! thank you so much for reading I had a blast with this. as you can tell. once again thank you so much for reading! hope to see you soon! mwa mwa!)

[r3ynah]

I Can be everything and anything, at once

A 27 years old Phantom was challenged to a bet, by his co-workers at the watchtower. Green lantern stated along with the the other heroes that If he could help every single one of them at least once in a month while not using any his powers and he also had to be physically and mentally there as he helps them. the cherry on top was that he needed to use his real identity instead of his ghost form in this mission.

If Phantom successfully conceals his civilian identity, while helping them, he gets to know everyone's deepest darkest secrets.

But if he loses, he must do everyone a favor and must keep it no matter how outrageous it is.

Ofcourse Phantom agreed, because he was no bitch, okay so maybe he is, he only accepts bets like this if he knows that'll he'll win. so yeah.

Besides, having no powers for this, is really a piece of cake, if you're a raging gender fluid that knows his way around makeup and can easily change the sound of his voice, to be honest the shapeshifting parts that he got from his powers are basically just add-ons.

Well what was he waiting for? afterall he needed all the blackmail he could get, not as Phantom but as Daniel James Fucking Fenton, this was an opportunity to go batshit crazy and he was absolutely stealing it.

The very first hero Danny approached to help was Wonder Woman, who thanked Danny who was now disguised as a woman wearing a long ass Red wig, and some clothes he "borrowed" from Jazz who just joked about Danny being her twin, and wished him luck.

"Thank you, young lady for your brave actions to help me." Wonder woman sincerely thanked the boy in disguise as she held both of Danny's hands as gratitude "may I ask the name of my savior? "

"My name's El, It's a pleasure to know you." Danny smiled a little wider.

The second was Flash, which Danny found completely amusing because of the way he helped the speedy hero, who tripped while patrolling around the city.

Danny who was now in a more gothic attire( thanks to Sam's help) caught the hero's wrist before he embarrassingly fell face first on the ground.

"You okay there sir?" Danny asked, as he kept a firm grip on the man's wrist to make sure he doesn't fall.

Meanwhile Flash who thought he was in those korea tv romance dramas only blue screened for a few seconds before finally get his shit together. "yeah- um- name's Flash, and you are?"

The hero tripped on his own words, making Danny amused as fuck. "James, it was nice to finally meet you"

Okay, about like three weeks in, and Danny managed to help almost everyone in the watchtower, and only a few more to go,( he didn't get why most of the heroes he helped either started to stutter or blue screen in their spot once they talk to him. like damn is this how all of you treat every civilian who interacts with you? that's just sad) but at this time, Dan and Elle found out, and were now demanding to join, with the excuse of basically being Danny but in alternate or clone form, which Danny had no choice but to give in, I mean he wasn't breaking any rules so technically this was alright.

Danny wanted to take a break so Dan took over this time.

currently Nightwing was observing the outside of the gala, Bruce was invited to, something about a bunch of drugs being hidden within the crowd, and was now being passed around.

He intently remained focused on his observation, while also keeping a conversation with Oracle and the others on the comms, he didn't realize that he was too far off the edge of the railing he was standing on, until he missed a step.

Nightwing would never admit that he let a quiet squeal to his siblings ever as he fell, he closed his eyes and braced for impact, he would never expect to fall into the arms of a man 3x bigger than him, he stared at the man, and the man stared at him. 'holy shit' Nightwing thought.

The man, chuckled making Nightwing internally scream. "When I wished for Desiree, to make someone from above to save me from this trash party, I didn't think it would be one of the birds of gotham, to come and fall for me let alone the handsome one."

Okay Nightwing was now full on red from blushing, he was put down gently by the man on the ground, before offering a handshake, once Nightwing accepted the handshake, Dan pulled the hand closer to his mouth then gave a quick peck on the back of the hand vigilante's hand. "My name's Dan Masters, it's a pleasure to meet you."

his siblings can eat dirt on how they were teasing Nightwing Right now, but this was fucking worth it.

And the last to have gotten help from Danny was John Constantine, Danny actually had a reason on why he saved John for last, and that's because John actually knows Danny's identity, so for this mission he asked the help of his daughter Elle.

Elle had helped John by fixing a ruined summoning circle, who also helped him negotiate with a demon, and somehow all day, Elle just stuck to Constatine's side, her explanation? 'He'll die without me' fair point John thought as he took the kid, to order ice cream and to hangout in the park.

"You know kid, you remind me of someone." Constantine stated while keeping his eyes on what's infront of him, which was just a bunch of trees.

Elle who sat next to him, still eating her Ice cream looked up at him and said. "Really?"

"Yeah like you two literally have the same aura and all just a little different, but I don't know who yet." He replied and ruffled the kid's hair. making the girl laugh.

"Hey John!" Danny greeted behind them, and then all the gears inside of Constantine's head began to work. he let out a groan as he realized the girl beside him was the clone of the man behind him, well he needed to kiss that secret of his goodbye. here on this spot right now or he'll die of embarrassment if he waited any longer.

"Danny, let's go on a date." Constantine stated, not facing the Man.

this comment made the Father and Daughter choke on literal air.

[kikyoupdates]

Rivalry | Bakugou Katsuki x F!Reader 

katsuki catches feelings for his new rival

Bakugou Katsuki has a crush, and he refuses to admit it. 

There’s a girl in his class who drives him absolutely insane. All throughout middle school, he’s had the top grades. His attitude, foul mouth, and appearance may fool people into believing he’s a delinquent—and to some extent, he is—but the truth is that he has a rigid, early bedtime, he does all his homework diligently, he studies at great length for tests, and he’s never missed a single day of class. 

He’s the best student there is. Or rather—he’s just the best in general. 

But this year, everything changed. 

There’s something about you that seems to catch everyone’s eye. You showed up at the beginning of the school year, a new transfer student, and from that moment onward, Katsuki swears his life got flipped upside down. 

You’re gifted. You’ve got the best grades not only in the class, but out of everyone in the whole school. Every time exam scores are posted for others to see, Katsuki is forced to grit his teeth at the sight of your name at the very top, time and time again.

It’s not just your grades, though. You’ve got a powerful Quirk, too. It’s some kind of energy control that allows you to levitate objects, enhance your physical strength, and also defend against attacks. It’s strong and versatile. Perfect for becoming a hero—which is exactly what you plan to be. 

The final nail in the coffin is that you’re also popular. 

Katsuki is used to being the center of attention wherever he goes. He’s used to being complimented for his intellect, his talent, his strength, and the sheer magnitude of his presence. Thanks to everyone praising him to high heaven, ever since he was a kid, his ego has become massively inflated. 

So, when he realizes that people are paying more attention to you than they are to him, he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to handle it. 

Katsuki finds himself glaring at you just about constantly. You’ve always got a group of students gathered around you. You’re always smiling and laughing, looking carefree as can be. You’re also the only person in the whole class who doesn’t treat Izuku like dirt—which just pisses him off even more. 

One day, you stop in front of his desk with a bright smile. 

“Here you go, Bakugou,” you say, handing him a cookie. “This is for you.” 

Katsuki looks up at you in disbelief. “Why would I ever want this shit?” 

“I dunno. It was my birthday recently, so I baked cookies to hand out to the class. Don’t you want one? I thought everyone likes cookies.” 

“I would rather die than eat that,” he snarls, and he angrily shoves the cookie back into your hands. 

He’s dramatic as all hell, of course, and that kind of vicious remark would have been more than enough to make anyone feel self-conscious. It was needlessly harsh. He obviously didn’t mean it. Given the option of eating your cookie or dying, he would definitely eat the cookie. 

Not that it really matters, though.

You’re completely unfazed. 

“Damn, I didn’t know you were deathly afraid of cookies,” you muse. “I’ll have to keep that in mind for next time. What about cupcakes? Are cupcakes safe for you to eat?” 

Katsuki’s entire face turns red. “That’s obviously not what I meant, asshole!” 

“I know,” you giggle, and for some reason, the sound makes Katsuki’s heart skip a beat. “Sorry for teasing. You’re really funny, Bakugou. I like you.” 

He parts his lips to respond, but he’s incapable of forming any words. It feels like whatever he was about to say just died in the back of his throat. All of a sudden, he’s frozen in place, brain running haywire. 

“I like you.” 

You’re making fun of him. You have to be. And why should he even care whether you actually like him or not? He doesn’t give a shit about you. He can’t stand you. You’re the bane of his goddamn existence. 

…fuck. 

That’s what he keeps telling himself, but given how red his face is, it’s sounding harder and harder to believe. 

“I’ll make something else next time,” you beam. “I’m sure one day, I’ll figure out something you like. I’ve noticed you eat spicy food a lot. Maybe I should try making a curry. Ah, but if it’s good, you have to be honest with me, okay? You’re not allowed to lie.” 

Katsuki’s heart does another flip. It’s so stupid. He can’t believe his mind even bothered to read into it, but…

The fact that you know what kind of food he likes means you’ve at least been paying some attention to him, right? 

“I’m going to beat you,” Katsuki blurts. His voice wavers slightly, and he grinds his teeth together in embarrassment, but still, he persists. “On the next round of exams… I’m going to place first. Just you watch.”

Normally, Katsuki can’t stand to lose. He can’t stand the feeling of inferiority. The idea that someone else might be better than him.

And yet, despite his frustration, despite how much he claims you drive him up the wall, he actually doesn’t mind the challenge. It’s exciting. It makes him respect you that much more. 

“We’ll see about that,” you grin—and he’s convinced you have to be the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

No doubt about it. 

Something about you just gets his heart racing.

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[suuooe]

-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

[dr-demi-bee]

Gale's act 1 romance is just so good. The more I think about Gale the more I like it. It shows off so many parts of his character - how integral magic is to him, his love of teaching, his smugness, his appreciation for your friendship... But also his vulnerability. Before you picture something more - he looks pleased. Happy to share a moment with you as friends. (During the party he even expresses hoping that he can consider you a true friend. A self-professed rarity for him.)

At the same time he's making this face though, he moves closer to you. Whether he would acknowledge it or not, Gale clearly does seek out that intimacy.

His earnest surprise after pulls at my heart strings. He genuinely wanted to find a safe way to connect. He had no expectations of you returning his feelings (hence, embarrassment - at being perceived, or at not considering your feelings, perhaps.).

Followed by a resigned shoulder slump and a face of desperate yearning... 🥺 It's almost the same pouty face he gives you when he confesses he loves you.

Then, genuine thrill - elation - at the very idea of it! Gale has a firm grip on what he shares with us here - he's still an archmage level wizard (even nerfed), and that's a skill he would have. (It's probably why we don't ever accidentally connect tadpoles with Gale). He chooses after his initial surprise to share a feeling of not just joy but a joy with pride and optimism. He turns *towards* you - communicating not just elation but desire in his expression.

But he immediately follows this with an 'oh shit, stop thinking about it' look and a long shake of the head to clear the thought(s) away 😭 (Because trepidation here isn't about kissing you - it's about the orb.)

But he's quick to reassure you - not just because he knows you wouldn't be able to hide your thoughts from him (not an option - even picturing nothing carries a feeling with it) . "But it is a pleasant image, to be sure." And then he hits you with a confirmation of his desire and approval. "Most pleasant, in fact. Most welcome."

He hadn't considered it a possibility, but gods be damned, you've given him the first burst of hope and confidence he's had in a while. The first time in months he's felt wanted. His posture straightens with the confidence boost. He turns fully to you and clearly wants to bask in the moment - to connect with you.

But then the Weave evaporates. Whatever the reason may be, Gale didn't do it. He didn't expect it. Clearly. He posture collapses and he whimpers like it physically hurt.

The narration makes it clear how jarring the connection ending feels to us (cold and lonesome) - how must it feel for poor Gale? He hasn't had such a strong connection with someone in ages. Who knows how long since it was with another mortal (if ever)? We know from later stages of his romance and from communication with Gale that physical touch is an integral part of his expression of love and connection. And with the orb he can't have it. The loss of intimacy and connection here hurts.

"How easily things slip away from us." How easily they are lost. Anyway go hug your wizard.

[formulawolff]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[starsofang]

simon riley x blind!reader requested by @wareagleofthemountain <3 tw: none!

Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. He didn��t attach himself to people, and interactions with strangers with the intent of becoming more than that was a far-fetched idea for somebody like him. Being on his own was something he greatly preferred, and his task force were the only people he ever needed.

That was what he thought, anyway, up until you.

Even when you had accidentally bumped into him in the middle of a rundown convenience store late at night, you didn’t cower away from him. The sight of his mask didn’t cause you to turn away and mumble out a half-assed apology in order to leave his vicinity as quickly as possible, and at first, he didn’t understand.

That was until he noticed the furball standing next to you, staring up at him as if scolding him for getting in the way. The harness was glaringly obvious now that he looked at it, and he felt a bit stupid for not noticing it in the first place. You had a guide dog, with words boldly lettered indicating that you were blind.

“I’m so sorry!” you said, and he caught himself staring at you as you began rambling out genuine, sweet apologies, explaining that you didn’t mean to bump into him, that you hoped you didn’t hurt him by accident.

Simon didn’t get attached to people, no. But that didn’t mean he didn’t notice cute people who had hearts of gold that made his look rotten in comparison.

“S’alright,” he assured you, fighting so hard to push back the smile that threatened to curl up under his mask. Smiling meant he felt amused, and amusement meant he saw something in you that intrigued him. “What’s his name?”

When he asked about your guide dog, you practically lit up like a damn Christmas tree and oh, he was fucked. That smile wasn’t fair.

“Peanut,” you introduced affectionately, and when he glanced down at your dog, Peanut, the little thing looked almost prideful at that.

“Hm,” he hummed in acknowledgement, and before he could detach himself from the conversation, before he could bid you farewell and leave you behind for good, he found himself speaking once more. “And yours?”

Simon never expected to meet you, nor was he remotely looking for somebody to enter his life and completely flip it around. But you did, and he found himself so engrossed in you, he couldn’t ever imagine life without you.

He thinks fondly of the day you two met, where he was in a mindset of pushing everybody around him away. He’d never given himself an opportunity to live a normal life, then you came around and had him seeking out the future.

The future was never a possibility until you, nor was it a possibility without you in it.

Simon never made you feel incapable just because you were blind. You had worked your way around the world just fine before him, and you’d continue to do it during him.

That didn’t mean he never tried his best, though. In fact, Simon took pride in helping you out with things as his way of showing his undying love for you. He may not have been the most affectionate person physically, but doing things for you was his favorite form of care.

Cooking was one of many. Simon was naturally a lover of cooking, so teaching you how to do it was something he took to almost immediately.

When it came to chopping vegetables, he’d gently guide your hands with his own, closed around the kitchen knife and showing you how to chop away without nicking yourself. If it was an excuse to hold your hand and watch your joyful smile light up your face, he’d never admit it.

He’d explain every step of a recipe to you, wanting to give you your independence of cooking on your own while also involving himself enough to be useful. He’d explain in soft ways how to properly cook meat, how to make sure it’s not undercooked or overcooked, guiding you through every part of the meal and watching with pride when you’d figure it out after a few trial errors.

Simon had never thought a meal could taste so good until it was cooked by the one you adore.

Reading was something you could do on your own. Your entire collection were books geared towards your blindness to help make it more accessible to you, but Simon quickly found out that he specifically liked reading for you.

It became routine in your apartment, the one that he was staying in so much that it might as well had been his as well, for the two of you to snuggle up close on the couch with a book you mentioned hearing about in those silly videos you listen to on your phone. His arm would tuck you into his side while the other held the book he’d gone out for, venturing to find (even if it took going to multiple stores), while Peanut laid content at your feet.

The books might not have been his personal favorite, but he’d spend every night reading them to you, his voice soft and quiet as they executed every page. You’d listen with a smile on your face, head resting in the pit of his shoulder, allowing the warmness of his voice send you into a peaceful serenity that almost always had you falling asleep twenty pages in.

Simon never minded that you’d fall asleep, and with a sweet kiss on your head, he’d string you along to bed, bookmarking the book for the next night when he’d read to you once again.

Being blind had never bothered you, and it was something you were never embarrassed or ashamed of.

Simon aided you in whatever you needed, but never made you feel an inkling of being broken or unable. He was passionate in the way he cared for you, while remaining stern in letting you be your own person.

The one thing that did bother you was that you’d never be able to see Simon’s face for all the true glory it was. The man you’d come to love over the time spent together was so close to you, yet felt so far when your brain would remind you that you didn’t know what he looked like.

The more time went on, the more you failed to grasp on to those strings, enough for Simon to take notice. When you finally had the gall to express this concern of yours, he understood completely why you’d upset yourself over it.

Thankfully for you, Simon had an easy fix for that.

“No need to worry yourself over that, sweetheart. Here.”

You may not have been able to see him, but you could feel him. Simon took your soft hands into his own, gently guiding them to cup his face. He bore himself naked to you, adorning no mask, all scars and rugged skin on display.

Your fingers traced along every feature of his, taking it in and mapping them out. You felt the thickness of his brows, trailing down to the flutter of his eyelashes, gently swiping your thumbs across them. You felt every bump of old, healed scars that indented his skin, every prickly stubble of his unshaven face.

You may not have been able to see him, but you knew he was beautiful.

Simon didn’t rush you. He remained patient and willing, face relaxed as you felt every crevice and divot. Your fingers were so careful in the way you handled him, like dealing with fragile glass, that he could’ve easily fallen in love with you a second time.

“You’re pretty,” you breathed out, hands halting their movements to lay flat on his cheeks. You were holding the world in your hands, and after getting a feel of what lay beyond it, you never wanted to let go.

Your words had dazed him, and he felt his mouth go dry as he stared at you, sinking in your own lovely features just as you did his own.

Simon had no words to speak back to you, but you knew what he was thinking without him having to say it – he loved you, more than any word could express.

Simon might not have been the type of person to get attached. You were the last thing he’d been looking for in life, but you came rushing into him like a flood, engulfing him in a forever calmness.

His body was permanently sinking in a sea of passion, and you were the life vest keeping him afloat.

i promise i didn't forget about u lovie! work was a bit crazy and my brain was a bit fried but it's here and i sincerely hope u enjoy it! thank u for the request, i love soft simon sm

[thedivinetarot]

He said to be cool and I know he means it

How do you view men?

☆ How to chose the perfect pile for you?

1) Close your eyes.

2) Clear your mind

3) Take a deep breathe.

4) Ask the question in your head and the picture you are drawn to the most is your pile.

☆ Note:

- First thing is Thank you guys for 100 follower. I'm so happy that our family is growing fast. I'm also grateful that such a wonderful souls are following me here on tumblr, may God bless you❤.

- In this reading we are going to dig into your deep subconscious mind on your views of men.

- This reading is going to help you at where you stand in your opinions and views towards men.

- Also it will help you discover the hidden parts of your subconscious mind and your behavior towards men.

- This is a general reading so take what resonates and leave the rest.

- Pile three can be triggering for some, so if you are not comfortable reading it then don't.

- This reading can't substitute any psychiatrist help. So if you have a problem you can ask for a professional help.

Stay safe ❤

Arya

☆ This reading well be divided into three questions:

1) Your past relationships with men.

2) Your subconscious beliefs about them.

3) How does all of that affect you currently?

Pile 1 - Walking Sylvia

Your past relationships with men:

I see that this pile held into a connection that was not meant for them. I see you getting attached to someone you thought it was your soulmate or twin flame but it wasn't really the one. I see also that you kept persistent and stubborn especially in front of others. It is like you bet with your friends or people around you that he is the one but everyone know that he is not. If this is not the case I see that you were dating or in a relationship with someone who is considered a safe option but wasn't really that good for you as a person. You might have your planets square their planets in synastry chart. I see that your first role models (Your caregivers or parents) wasn't really that good either. They might stayed together but they clearly should've been divorced too long ago. I see that you hated the dynamic between them and you always wondered if you'll get the same or not. And now you look back at the men you dated and feel cringe? I don't know pile one. Maybe you feel nostalgic to the feeling but not the person. I see that you are someone who prefers predictability over getting out of your comfort zone. So, you might dated multiple "safe options" to not get triggered by the new or unpredictable people. You might even rejected the idea of traditional role in the relationships, like the dom-sub or feminine-masculine or the men who provide financially. You also might dated people who have 50/50 mindset or feminine boys. Or boys/men who are not considered attractive but they were a safe option for you.

Your subconscious beliefs about men:

Ooh pile one, I think your subconscious belief about men is that they are a disappointment. I see that you might have a male caregiver who didn't make you feel safe enough to be in your feminine energy. This caregiver might made you feel like you are not enough; physically, mentally, or in general. This man made you feel worthless and no one would really care for you. So, you grew up trying to earn this attention by being hyper vigilant in your relationships with men. You might give and give too much even for the options that is considered "safe". And you might overthink everything you do or say around men. You might say "Damn why did I say that!" Alot Or "Do I look ugly or deformed for him" because he didn't look at you, after each interaction. And if not, some people in this group wore an iron mask in front of men. You wouldn't show emotions or any expression around them. But deep inside you are a little girl screaming and crying. People in this group might have self worth problems. You might overdo your make up, overdress yourself etc. This subconscious belief kept you stuck in the same old patterns and made you superman in the relationship with men. As I said before; you might got mad or angry at the traditional roles of the male and female relationships. And tried to be the initiative person in most interactions you had with men. Another subconscious belief is you'll be miserable alone? Pile one loneliness is something normal in this generation, everyone feels lonely but please don't let this loneliness affect your relationships. Don't go for good guys or "safe options" if you feel like they are no good for you.

How does all of that affect you currently?

So, all of this affect you currently by isolating you from romantic interactions. You might be someone who has been alone for too long. I see that you took this period of loneliness as a reflection period and reevaluated your old relationships. Like right now you are discovering what you truly value and want in romantic relationships. I see that this period of isolation and loneliness is slowly going to be over. I'm not seeing any romantic offers coming to you, but definitely I'm seeing you are slowly putting yourself out there. I also see that you are working hard and being persistent with yourself. You might just moved out from your parents house or wanting to settle down on your own or wanting to live in another place or change your location. I see you now being more in your feminine energy. You might have rejected that idea before but now you are slowly accepting the fact that you are good on your own but a good company won't hurt. You might be putting yourself out there, and getting to know people with no strings attached. I see that you are enjoying yourself truly and feeling calm and collected more than before. You might started to realize that you need to be more assertive of your current life. You might be someone who say "I'm the master of my own fate now". So, yeah you might also realized that your life needs you more than you need anyone.

Pile 2 - Sylvia laying on the towel

Your past relationships with men:

I see that this piles collective are mostly happily married women or new bride. I see that you either got married to the love of your life and feeling so happy and excited to spend the rest of your life with them or you have a happy marriage and a loving spouse in general. I see that you also might be pregnant with a baby girl and this girl will have water placements? (Pisces, cancer or scorpio). Anyways this pile’s energy towards men is so reassuring honestly. I don't really see that you have a bad relationships with men. You might be someone who is considered beautiful or pretty by social standards so any man who dated you wished that he could marry you right away. I see that you have a traditional relationship with men. You might be someone who date for marriage and if not then you might date for potential rather than money. Or you might want to start dating for marriage. I see that men always crush on you and they feel this urge to protect you and make you happy. I see that you are the type that make any man want marriage and other stuff. Like if a player met you and got the chance to know you, he might suddenly want to marry and have kids right away. You have this energy of "I'm the perfect wife". You might be a great option for men who want to settle down. They see the potential in you, the kids, the home you'll make. I guess this pile didn't really face bad things regard dating or perhaps most people in this pile are already married to their twin flame or soulmate. I see a lot of love and happiness (I'm so happy for you guys🥺).

Your subconscious belief about men:

This pile is a complete sweetheart to be honest. I see that you see men as great leaders and as someone who is going to guide you through your life. You might have a lot of taurus or libra placements or just your feminine energy is quite balanced. Also I feel that your sacral chakra is balanced or a little hyperactive? You might really care about men's pepe size? Omg pile two I feel turned on for no reason, do you perhaps fantasize about sex a lot? You might view sex as something sacred or extremely important for your well being. You might feel or like the sex between you and your partner a lot. I don't know why I got into all of these sexual stuff all of sudden. But I feel like subconsciously you might view men as sexually satisfying? You might had a great sexual companions or you just like that in general. I also see that you like assertive and wise men, men with a great vision of the future. Sex and men is something important in pile two's life. You might have the lover archetype? You can search that btw. But generally your subconscious thoughts about men are good I don't really see something bad, perhaps there's a thing but it is not considered bad. You might get attached to your partner? Perhaps, you might get a little obsessed with your partner. Not too much just a little. Or you like depending on them a lot. There's nothing wrong with being dependent but don't let that affect you whole being.

How does all of that affect you currently?

Okay, so I do see that this pile is very dedicated to their partner. I see that you might be someone who always keep in check of their partner's needs and wants. You also work simultaneously on making their partner satisfied and happy. I also see a very confident energy from you pile 2. You may be very confident in who you are, you may not be just beautiful but also with good personality. I see that you are nurturing and sweet when it comes to your family and partner. You make them feel comfortable and appreciated. I see that your spouse or partner feel on cloud 9 with you. They feel grateful for meeting you and keeping you in their life. I also see that you are someone who cares a lot for children. You take extra mile to help them and make them feel seen and heard. You might also have the mother archetype as a secondary function within your personality (search for the archetype if you don't know them). I see that unlike some people you chose you partners wisely and above all you stick for them through thick and thin. You are a marriage material pile two, may happiness always stay on your side.

Pile 3 - Sylvia on the beach

Past relationships with men:

Pile three I see that you are obsessed with manifesting your SP? Or you might try to manifest someone back into your life? I see you trying to manifest either an Ex or or someone whom your relationship with wasn't good for you but you thought it was so good. I pulled a confirmation card and and yes; you and this person might have distance between you two. Okay in this pile I am picking up on three energies, the first one talk about manifesting an Ex back. The second is manifesting someone with a specific traits and the third energy is for LGBTQ? I think some people in this pile kinda prefer women. I see that this pile have dated both gender or you were in a marriage with a man but it turned out to be so stressful for you, I also see that this pile might have realized that they prefer another gender? Like you might be someone who has been dating men for ages but then you crushed on a woman and now you are dating. I honestly see that scenario too, another scenario is that this pile didn't really get along with people from the opposite gender so you grow up liking women (the same gender as you) or even becoming a lesbian? I understand pile three (men are stressful). You might be a fire sign (Aries, Leo and sagittarius) or Air sign (Gemini, Libra and Aquarius), or you have those placements in your chart. I see also a strong Gemini energy too so you might be someone who is bisexual or gay in general. Or someone who really doesn't care about dating any kind of gender. I don't know why this came in so strongly. But feel free to take what resonates okay pile three?.

Your subconscious beliefs about men:

Woah, the cards kept jumping like crazy. This pile’s energy is so strong. Anyways I see that you have many toxic subconscious belief about men pile three. You think that men are a pure disappointment and that you need to keep your relationship with them as professional as possible. I think people in this pile might work in a field that requires them to always interact with men and if not. You might work in a teaching field or you might be a teacher yourself. I see that you have fantasized about weddings and wearing the perfect white dress but not to a man. You might like the idea of marriage but not marriage itself. I also see that some of your parents weren't really in a good marriage (financially) so you grow up in poverty or poor. I see that men aren't really interesting in your own lens pile three. I see also that you might be afraid to get in a relationship with a man because you are scared of getting used and left out. This pile seriously need to heal from abandonment wound, ooh I get it now! You might be someone who got abandoned by their male caregiver? I see that you might never met your real father or your father have left you in the dark so you grow up poor and fatherless (I'm so sorry pile three, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings). I see also that you might fear men deep down and fear being vulnerable with them? So you chose women as romantic interest (there’s nothing wrong with that). Anyways, you might have developed a close relationship with female friends and caregiver in general. So, you grew up rejecting men and not truly liking them. The moral story for this pile is to heal your abandonment wound and forgive yourself pile three, I'm getting this image of a girl doing destructive behaviors so she can never feel the pain of abandonment inside.

How does all of that affect you currently?

I see that you guys have a very unrealistic expectations from others and your own self. Even in the same gender relationship, you might be putting your standards so high that no one really can meet them. So, people might have called you picky with whom you date. This is funny idk where it came from but I think men called you a gold-digger because you have standards pile three (I respect that sm). I see that you enter a relationship with high expectations; at first both parties (you and your partner) at some point were able to meet them but then boom, you break up because you both have different views and well, expectations. I see that this pile can literally move on in a blink of an eye. You guys have a very chaotic energy, that's what I'm feeling. Also you might be a serial dater? Or you might be someone who is generous with giving or don't give at all but I see it is coming from you pile three especially in the money matter. You might be a little immature in the heart matter. I see that you might always get disappointed with how things are in your romantic relationships. I'm picking up on someone who's on a roller-coaster emotionally. I think you guys need to reflect and on your values and learn the lessons from your previous relationships, because it is literally causing you a lot of destruction in your life. Try to get in the hermit mode for a couple of months, try solo dating, reflect on your own values and what you truly want and appreciate in a partner and one day you'll be able to see the light coming in and you'll definitely find someone who will make you happy. And if not you have yourself, and as the wizard Liz said "You have you, you’ll never leave you" and I think it is beautiful. Try to watch her videos on YT she is a gem❤. God bless you pile three, take care of yourself.

Pile 4 - Sylvia Smiling

Your past relationship with men:

Okaaayyy, so I do think this pile are my lone wolf pile. This pile’s energy is soooo detached, especially from reality. I see that you haven't really had any real or physical connection to men. You might be a virgin because I feel like you never truly got engaged sexually with men before. You might be single since birth and the only interaction you had with men was a faraway crush, you don't care about real men, you are the girl who crush on fictional characters. I see that you are in your head most of the time. You fantasize about fictional men and /or your crush. You might be someone who is too shy to date or even have a romantic connection with someone even if they are interested. This pile gives off the damsel in distress vibe. Want to be saved by her fictional man rather than real one. You have a strong personality pile 4, you might be so independent in real life but when it comes to your imagination? Holy moly, you are so in love with fictional men and you want to be saved by them. I'm hearing "A man that do not exist", And if you are not like that you might be limerent on someone, yes, you might be a virgin and never dated but you had a crush on someone and it grew into limerence. Because I see that you are detached from the situation but in your head you are living and breathing this fantasy. Perhaps if you suspect having limerence you can read about it because it is not a crush. Crushes are short termed but limerence can take years to wear off. You might be even hesitant to talk to that person and if you do I don't think much really happen between you two. You are giving me the vibe of that one movie of Audry Hepburn, the movies name was Sabrina you can watch it if you want. It literally describes you perfectly. You might be also so sophisticated and diplomatic with males in general.

Your subconscious beliefs about men:

It is not about men, more about you pile 4. As I said above, you are very independent and detached. You do your own thing and you live the way you want. I see that this pile doesn't really like the idea of committing to something, you are free spirited and genuine. You might have the wild woman archetype, so genuine and raw. I see that the beliefs you are holding into are 1) I need to be constantly working on myself. And 2) I need to be independent so no one can control me. I see a very sweet energy but bold at the same time. Maybe like pile three you might have abandonment wound, especially from your father. He were there and not there at the same time. He might be dry with you emotionally, I see that he was there physically and financially but emotionally? Alas. He might made you feel rejected or left out in the cold; so, as a coping mechanism you started maladiptive daydreaming to escape the pain. This pile need to do shadow work tbh (you can search shadow work prompt on pinterest if you want to). I see you escaping to your own little fantasy world to not feel the pain of abandonment, healing is required to be able to form strong bond with men. And above all, realistic relationships with them. This pile is not destructive at all unlike pile three; their energy was so destructive, like they are dumping out all their trauma on constant dating and other destructive methods. I see this pile is very creative, you might be INFP,ISFP, INFJ, ISFJ and very small group are ENFJ. I am seeing creative with sharp tongue. You might be honest too. I see that you are an earth sign (Virgo, Taurus or Capricorn) or have those placements, some of you may be an aquarius too.

How does all of that affect you currently?

I got you pile four, you may lie about your marital status? Like if someone approached you because they like you, I see that you'll lie to them about being taken. You might tell those men that you are in a relationship? I see you using this method so you can run away from unwanted attention. You might not like the attention of the men who approach you in general. I see that some people in this group are constantly manifesting their future spouse, and you are waiting for him to materialize in you 3D? And if not then I see you being so intuitive about who you are going to marry. This pile is witchy; You may be a witch or a tarot reader and you know who your future spouse is. I see that you are waiting for them to be in your life. This pile are so in their head, like in reality they are so detached, closed off and passive. But behind the scenes you guys are constantly manifesting your spouse or a specific person to marry you. I see some of you have already lost faith in manifesting that person and others quit that too long ago, because nothing really happen. I see that you are working on yourself (self care, workout, etc). And focusing on your own thing (studying, going to school/college, working your 9-5 shift). But mentally you are imagining many scenarios on how you'll meet them and how they are going to be like (future spouse or SP). I see that many people in this pile are young like literally under 28 years old or even under 30. Guys I see that you might get the person you want but you do really need to get out of your comfort zone. And embrace change, I see that many of you are either introverts or have passive personalities in general. You might not have many friends or a very tight social circle. You need to face reality and be more assertive of what you want in relationships pile four.

Thank you for reading, take care❤.

Post date: 28th/Aug/2024-Wed

*Feedback is appreciated

[dandylovesturtles]

It's time! For Room Fic Part 4 Part B! Of how many parts? IDK ANYMORE

This is the longest part of the fic yet, and it's also the most... talky. But I felt like this was a part of the recovery everyone wanted to see so I thiiiink it's fine.

Content warnings: vomiting, HEAVY discussion of eating issues (including calorie counting, done purely as a recovery mechanism in this fic but still worth noting), mentions of the non-consensual voyeurism that happened in the first part, and as always, anxiety and aftermath of torture

If you're lost, start here!

I'm soooo tired I only proofread like half of this. it'll go through full editing when it goes on AO3

-----

Leo crashes into his room and grabs anything within arm’s reach to pull over himself. The blanket from his bed. A cardboard box, contents dumped on the floor. His skateboard, a beach towel, a plank of wood used to prop up action figures.

He cowers into his claustrophobic, makeshift nest, clutching his ill gotten gains to his chest. He doesn’t know why he bothered, because there’s nowhere to hide in here, and then they’ll…

They’ll do what? It’s his family. And if they’re upset with him for stealing the chips, well, he deserves that. Who is he to take food, when they’re running low already?

That’s what he expected, actually, when the lights flipped on and Raph was standing there. To get yelled at, chewed out, dressed down - the way he’d been waiting for Raph to do this whole time. Why can’t he just do as he’s told? Why does he always make the wrong decisions?

But Raph hadn’t yelled. He ran off. And now Leo doesn’t know what to expect at all.

He assumes Raph went to get their dad, or even Draxum. He waits in his hiding spot, heart pounding in his ears, and listens for the call of his full name, the surefire indicator that he’s in Big Time Trouble. He stole food, food he isn’t even allowed to eat, and when they’re running low, too. He doesn’t know what the punishment is going to be, and the fear of not knowing pulls him deeper into his nest.

He wants to know. He dreads finding out.

Time passes. He has no idea how much. There’s no clocks in here (there hadn’t been any clocks in there), and his phone is on the nightstand, hooked to its charger. To get it he would have to leave his hiding place. And he’s scared.

So he waits and waits and waits. Until his limbs grow uncomfortable and cramped, until no amount of shifting dulls the pain. His heart is still rabbit quick in his chest. (He may be a turtle but call him the hare-)

No one comes for him.

Finally, finally, when his body physically can’t take this position anymore, he scoots out of his hiding spot and gets to his feet, bag of chips clutched in his fingers. He walks to the curtain over his doorway - though “walks” is really overselling it, with the way he pauses for hours between every step.

When he makes it to the doorway, he peeks out.

The lair is quiet. Everything is dark. No one is stirring.

He makes his way back to his bed, and looks at the bag in his hands. He feels so anxious that he’s nauseous. And he can’t eat if he’s nauseous or he’ll lose his dinner.

So he can’t even eat the damn things. The irony would be funny if he could laugh.

He kneels down and fishes around under his bed for a box he knows is there. It’s full of little toys and trinkets from childhood - things he saved from the old lair that he couldn’t bear to throw away, but is too embarrassed to be seen with.

He dumps the contents of the box into the bigger one he hid under earlier. This is more important.

Then he hides the chips inside and scoots the box under the bed.

He climbs back onto his mattress, cringing when the bed springs creak. His blanket is still on the floor, but he doesn’t want to get up and risk making more noise.

So he curls up on his mattress and stares at the wall and tries futilely to sleep.

Donnie’s brand new curtains don’t even help. Maybe that’s part of his punishment.

-----

Somehow, he manages to make it to breakfast. He doesn’t remember who poked their head in to tell him it was ready, or how he picked himself up and walked to the kitchen. He just ends up there.

Mikey greets him with a sunny grin and the announcement that he gets oatmeal today, along with his scrambled eggs. There’s even some banana on top of the oats. He should be excited for the variety, but he feels numb. Still, he smiles as he’s expected to and thanks Mikey and hopes it passes scrutiny.

Draxum comes in, and then his dad. He stiffens up for both, muscles tense while he waits for the yelling to start. But no one starts yelling. Draxum sits and eats and Leo hears him give a reminder to take vitamins. Splinter reads out the shopping list, and everyone scrambles to add last minute items. 

Normally, this is where Leo would be chiming in with all the snacks and junk food he wants, but he knows if he says anything he’ll be turned down, so he doesn’t. He can feel the weirdness of it, but he doesn’t take his eyes off his food to see anyone’s appraisal.

Donnie’s last in; he drinks his coffee fast and tries his luck with adding uranium to the list. He grabs a granola bar instead of eating what the rest of them are having, then tells Mikey to meet him at the entrance in five minutes and leaves. Mikey piles the dishes in the sink, then rounds the table to give everyone a hug goodbye, Draxum included.

Leo smiles when Mikey gets to him. Says, “Have a good day, Mikester.” Swallows down the impulse to grab on and beg him to stay.

He finishes breakfast, then goes to the TV room and settles into the recliner. Raph comes by and pats his shoulder and tells him to call if he needs anything. Splinter hops up and pats his head before following Raph away.

He’s alone now. Alone, with Draxum, who’s currently in the kitchen doing who knows what.

(Leo doesn’t like leaving him alone in there. All their food is in there.)

(Well, not all of it. Leo’s made sure of that.)

He lays in the chair and pretends to be asleep. And he listens. 

To be sure that his brothers and dad are really gone, and aren’t coming back for a forgotten wallet or phone.

Until Draxum leaves the kitchen and moves for the train car he’s taken over as his own.

Until he’s sure no one is watching him.

Then he gets up. He goes to his room. He’s not sure why he feels like he’s sneaking, when he’s obviously allowed to be there.

He makes sure all his windows are covered, curtains or otherwise. Makes sure the curtain over his door is stretched as far as it will go.

Then, as silently as possible, he reaches under his bed and pulls out the box. Opens it to reveal his stolen goods.

He unrolls the top of the bag, wincing at each crackle of the plastic. His eyes dart to the door, to the windows, to make sure no one is there, no one is watching him.

Then he reaches his hand in and grabs a chip in his fingers.

He’s not sure if he should do this now. Maybe he should wait, save this when things get dire. But everyone is gone. They’ve left him alone, with Draxum. What if Draxum doesn’t let him eat, with no one here to step in?

He’s scared of being hungry again. He doesn’t want to go back to that place. 

Just a few, he tells himself. Just a few, and then he’ll stop.

He pulls the chip out of the bag, and takes a bite.

-----

They’re at the local grocery where no one asks questions, basket half full and three minutes in to Splinter trying to decide if the Buy One Get One Half Off deal for frozen dinners is really worth it or not, when it occurs to Raph that maybe they shouldn’t have all left at the same time.

Of course, in normal times this wouldn’t have been a big deal at all, especially with a nominally responsible adult in the lair. But times haven’t been normal for over two weeks now. The thin shell of his little brother, once always the biggest and loudest in the room, now trying to make himself as small as possible, isn’t normal. 

They got Leo back, but it still feels like someone else has him.

And now Raph feels guilty. He’d been so desperate to just get away, from the feeling of being inadequate, from the fear he’d make things worse, that now he’s probably made them worse anyway by leaving Leo alone with a guy he does not like. Raph should have stayed home. Or told Mikey and Donnie to wait until he and Splinter were back before leaving.

(That worries him too, for different reasons. He knows he can’t lock his brothers up in the lair to keep them safe. But he kinda wants to.)

But he didn’t do any of that, and now they’re out and Leo is alone. Raph thinks of the chip bag and sighs. He just can’t seem to make the right decisions. The calculus is overwhelming, and Raph’s always left math to Donnie.

“Hey Pop,” he says, watching Splinter flip his fourth TV dinner over to look at the nutritional information. “Do you think… Leo is gonna be okay?”

Splinter pauses, then gingerly puts the box into their basket. He pats Raph at the knee, and Raph feels the overwhelming desire to be small again. 

“...Yes, I do. It will take time and care, but I think, one day-”

“No,” Raph cuts in, “I mean, do you think Leo is gonna be okay today? I mean, we kinda just ran off and left him alone.”

“He is not alone.” Splinter makes a face, at odds with his words. “Baron Draxum is the most annoying man in the world, but he would not let harm come to you boys.”

Raph rubs his neck. “Sure, but… Leo’s not exactly Draxum’s biggest fan. Especially not now…”

“Blue does not have to like him,” says Splinter airily. “He just has to eat the food Draxum gives him.”

“Yeah, but that’s the whole problem,” Raph insists. “He’s bein’ a huge jerk about it.”

“Ah… I know. I have spoken to him about his… tone.” Splinter waves a hand. “He is trying to be more polite.”

Raph thinks back to breakfast this morning. He’d laugh if anything were funny right now. “Is that why he was all “please” and “thank you” and “sorry” this morning? He looked like he ate a lemon.”

And judging by how distant Leo was acting, he doubts any of it made an impression. 

“It just proves that the man is incapable of being nice!” Splinter chuckles. “Do not worry, Red. We will only be gone a few hours. Most likely, Blue will sleep until we are back.”

“Raph hopes so…”

They continue moving around the aisles, crossing things off their list as they do. It’s normal and boring and Raph thinks he needs that right now. If only it distracted him from the thoughts in his head…

There’s so many questions to dwell on. And the biggest one looms over them all, constantly drawing Raph’s attention back to it.

They’re in the soup aisle when he speaks up again, saying, “Hey, Pops, do you think…” and then flagging out before he can voice it.

“Often,” says Splinter, reaching for a can of tomato bisque. “But at my age, it can be difficult!”

Raph snorts despite himself, grabbing the soup can and passing it to his dad’s fingers. “Come on, Raph’s trying to ask a serious question here!”

“Hm.” Splinter puts the can in their basket. “Then I will give a serious answer.”

“Do you think…” Raph shifts the shopping basket from one hand to the other, and resolves not to chicken out this time. “Do you think Leo did the right thing? Not talkin’ to that Bishop guy?”

Splinter goes quiet for a long time. He points to a can of alphabet soup, the kind Leo insists he’s too old for but will happily eat when he’s sick, and Raph dutifully puts the can in the basket.

“…I think he did the brave and noble thing,” he says at length.

“That ain’t the same,” says Raph.

“I do not know if there was a right thing.” Splinter’s voice is sad, fingers idly stroking one of the soup cans. “It could be that if Blue had talked, he would not be as hurt as he is now. Or it could be that Bishop would have… disposed of him, once they had what they wanted.”

The idea of Bishop “disposing” of Leo steals Raph’s breath. But it’s not like he hasn’t thought of this before.

“April said pretty much the same thing.”

“Oho! April is very wise.” Splinter nods in satisfaction, affirming for Raph once again that his favorite kid is definitely April. But then he looks up at Raph sidelong and says, “But that answer does not satisfy you.”

Raph sighs. “It’s just… what if he thought he had to stay quiet, because of something I- because he thought it’s what he was supposed to do?”

A furry hand lands on his. Raph takes a deep shuddering breath, and uses his free hand to scrub at his eyes. They’re damp, suddenly, and he’s not sure when that happened.

“…I often worry the same thing,” says Splinter, “about all four of you.”

Raph doesn’t know what to say to that. He already knows that their dad would give anything for the four of them to not have to fight; he also knows it’s out of his dad’s hands.

Why can he accept that, but not accept the same for himself?

“I’m afraid I do not have an answer for your question,” says Splinter, pulling Raph back to the grocery store. “I want you boys to be safe. But the situation Leonardo was in afforded him no safety. I’m not sure there is a choice he could have made that would have helped him. Still…” Splinter sighs. “It could be the reasons he made the choice he did are troubling.”

“Yeah,” says Raph. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“Mm.” Splinter pats Raph’s hand. “Your questions and worries are wise ones, Raphael. Meditate on your answer, and when you are ready, share it with Blue. You will find your path forward together.”

Raph chews on his lips. “I’m scared I’m gonna mess up,” he admits.

“Sharing the truth in your heart is never a mistake,” says Splinter, “so long as you are doing it with love.”

Raph blinks at him. “Pops, isn’t that a line from one of your movies?”

“It is a good line! Very heartfelt.” He picks up another can of soup and tosses it into the basket. “As long as you are talking to Blue with love, you will do just fine, Red. And remember, this is not your sole responsibility. We are all here to help each other.”

It should be self-evident, but the reminder pulls some weight off Raph’s shoulders. It’s not just up to him. Everyone is coming together to help Leo. That’s why Donnie and Mikey are at the scrapyard, to finish making curtain rods for Leo’s room. That’s why Draxum is always researching and scribbling in his notebook, refining his meal plan for Leo’s recovery.

It’s not just Raph against the world. He isn’t alone, and neither is Leo.

“Yeah, I know. Thanks, Pops.”

“Of course, Red. Now, let’s keep moving or we’ll be late getting back!”

On their way to the checkout line, Raph spots the candy aisle, and a bag of hard, sour candies. He stops, reaching out and brushing the bag with his fingers.

“Mm… that is Blue’s favorite, isn’t it?” asks Splinter.

“Yeah.” Raph pulls the bag off its hook, holding it over the basket uncertainly. “I know he can’t have ‘em yet, but he’ll be able to eat normal stuff soon, right?”

“Right.” Splinter nods. “Put them in! We will hide them until Draxum says it is okay, then give them to him.”

Raph grins and drops the bag into the basket. At least it’s something to look forward to.

-----

Leo is halfway through the bag of chips when the curtain to his room is pushed aside and Draxum is standing there.

He was saying something about the vitamins Leo forgot to take as he came in, the little blue pill organizer clutched in his hand. But now he freezes, taking in the scene: Leo with a handful of sour cream and onion chips, his cheeks bulging slightly, the salty evidence tracking up the sleeve of his hoodie.

He’s crossed the room before Leo can blink. He grabs Leo’s wrist, and Leo cries out, twisting his arm to try and free himself.

But he can’t, he’s weak, he’s so weak-

“What are you eating!?” Draxum bellows. He tosses the pill organizer onto Leo’s bedside table; one of the lids pops open and there’s little plinks as vitamins scatter. “How much of this have you had!?”

He wrenches the bag out of Leo’s grip, and Leo yelps again as he loses the food. The only food he had, and now Draxum has it and Leo is going to-

“This bag is over half empty,” snarls Draxum, waving it in Leo’s face. Leo doesn’t have the presence of mind to defend himself, because he’s still trying to wrench his wrist free. He claws at Draxum’s arm with his free hand, and somehow it gets Draxum to let go; he jerks away with a gasp, dropping the handful of chips to the floor, and at the same time the ones already in his mouth leave painful scratches down his throat and lodge there. Leo doubles over and wheezes in a desperate attempt to get air.

“Are you- Leonardo!” Draxum looms over him, and Leo doesn’t have the strength to flee. He can’t do anything as Draxum strikes him, once, twice, three times on the shell in big, open-palmed slaps.

A white-hot cough rips up Leo’s throat, and he spews the half-chewed potato chips across his blanket, bits of drool and spittle dangling from his lips and tears rolling down his face. He sucks in a deep breath as feeling returns to his limbs.

The hand that hit him moves toward him again, and Leo dodges this time, flinging himself off his bed and into the floor, scrambling backwards to put distance between himself and his attacker.

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” he shouts, hand flailing for his swords and not finding them. Where did he put them? Where did they take them?

“Leonardo-” 

Draxum takes a step toward him, and Leo pushes to his feet, grabbing for anything nearby to defend himself. But there’s nothing, nothing, where are his swords-

“Leonardo,” says Draxum more firmly, and he takes another step forward. “Stop this, you’re going to hurt-”

“No!” Leo presses himself back against the bookcase on the far wall, the metal shelves biting into the skin of his arms. “No,” he repeats, and a high, manic laugh bubbles through his throat. “You took my food.”

“This,” Draxum shakes the bag, “is all empty calories. This is not going to help your recovery! Why can’t you just do as you’re told-”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Leo spits. He feels stronger than he did a moment ago, pushing himself off the bookshelf and standing on steadier legs, squaring up against Draxum. “Just do as I’m told?” He laughs, a cold sound. “Just like Bishop wanted.”

Draxum stiffens. Something about his expression is… weird. If Leo didn’t know better, he’d almost say Draxum looks scared. “Do not compare me to him,” he says, and his voice is much lower than it was a moment ago. “I am trying to help you.”

“Help me?” Leo holds out his hand, taking a step forward. “Then give me my food back.”

Draxum watches him, gaze unwavering. He holds the chip bag closer to his chest. “I cannot.”

Leo barks out a laugh, high and cold. “I knew it. You’re just lying to me.”

Now he’s the one advancing on Draxum, slow but strong steps, one at a time. Draxum does not move.

“Leonardo-”

“I’m on to you,” says Leo. His voice is a chilly sing-song. “You’re sooo happy to have everyone out of the house. Now there’s no one to stop you from torturing me. Now you can watch me suffer.”

“I do not want you to suffer,” says Draxum, his tone measured. He still hasn’t moved an inch, even though Leo is right in front of him now, within striking distance. 

“Then why did you take my food!?”

“This is not good for you,” says Draxum. “I’ll feed you a healthy lunch in two hours.”

“Yeah?” Leo shakes his head. “What do you want me to do for it?”

Draxum’s eyes widen. “What do you mean?”

“Come on. Tell me.” Leo grins. It hurts his face. “Want me down on my knees? Want me to beg?”

Draxum’s face goes a shade paler. “No,” he says, firm. “You don’t have to do anything.”

“I don’t believe you,” says Leo. He laughs again. “I don’t. I don’t BELIEVE YOU!”

His fist connects with the glass- but it’s not glass, it’s Draxum’s face, and he goes sailing across the room like a rag doll. He slams back first into shelving, and there’s a clatter as Leo’s possessions tumble and fall around him.

He looks at Leo, eyes wide but expression steady, despite the fact that Leo just…

Leo… doesn’t know what just happened.

He shouldn’t have been able to hit that hard. He shouldn’t have been able to hit at all- Draxum should have blocked that, should have fought back, should have… should have…

“...What?” says Leo, and it comes out with a crack down the middle.

Draxum watches him a moment longer. Then he sighs and pushes himself off the shelves, getting back to his feet. He doesn’t come closer. “I cannot give you these,” he says, indicating the bag. “But I will not fight you.”

“...Why not?” Leo asks, because it just doesn’t follow anything he thought was happening here.

“Because I care for you,” says Draxum simply. Like it’s obvious.

“...I don’t understand,” Leo says, because he doesn’t.

Draxum nods. “That’s because I haven’t properly explained it to you. I didn’t think it was necessary… but it was. Is.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek, starting to glow red from Leo’s punch. “I’m very sorry for that, Leonardo.”

Leo stares. Draxum is… apologizing? He should be attacking, fighting back, not apologizing!

The adrenaline leeches out of Leo, leaving him sagging in the middle of his room - his messy room, with everything thrown around like it’s in an active war zone. A million emotions are running through him, his dying rage warring against the confusion and the beginnings of remorse, a roiling mix that leaves him feeling sick to his stomach.

…Oh wait, no. He’s actually sick to his stomach.

Leo clamps a hand over his mouth, and Draxum is moving again - more calmly, this time. He drops the chip bag on the floor and grabs the wastebasket Leo has sitting by what could generously be called a desk. He holds it out, just in time for Leo to lose his breakfast and all the chips he just downed.

Leo hovers over the wastebasket until he’s empty, until he’s spit a few times to try and get rid of the taste. Then he wipes his mouth on his palm and looks up at Draxum warily.

“Are you finished?” Draxum asks.

Leo shrugs. Draxum takes that as an affirmative and lowers the wastebasket to the floor by the doorway.

“Why are you helping me?” Leo asks.

“I’ve been helping you this whole time,” says Draxum, and it’s only the exasperation that manages to break through that makes Leo think it’s - maybe - not a lie.

“Why?” he repeats, more urgently. 

“Because you are my son.”

Leo steps back, his knees knocking into his bed. He sinks down onto the mattress, balling himself up until he can wrap his arms around his knees. 

“No,” he says. “Mikey’s your son. Raph and Donnie, they’re your sons.”

A look passes over Draxum’s face. It’s… sad.

“You are my son, too.” Draxum takes a step toward him, then seems to second guess himself and stops. “I know we don’t get along. But the fear that froze my chest when they told me you were gone couldn’t mean anything else.”

Leo stares at Draxum, searching every part of his expression for any hint, any suggestion, that he’s lying. He waits for Draxum to change his tune, to start yelling again, to hit him, to do something.

Draxum doesn’t. And Leo sags on the bed. The feeling of fear with nowhere to direct it leaves him floating.

“I’m going to explain everything to you now,” says Draxum. “But I need to get a few things first. Will you be alright on your own for a few minutes?”

Being alone for a few minutes sounds great; Leo needs to pull himself together. He nods.

“Good.” Draxum stoops and picks up the wastebasket, then the bag of chips, and the chips that fell on the floor. “Answer your phone,” he says, “before your brother comes back to skin me alive.”

Then he leaves the train car. It’s only then Leo realizes his phone is ringing - has been ringing.

He scrambles to pick it up, seeing Raph’s name and picture lighting up the screen. Raph, who is supposed to be getting groceries, because they’re running low.

Raph, who apparently didn’t rat him out about the chips.

Leo shakily presses the answer button. Then he takes a deep breath and swallows to try and calm his voice.

Then he does what he does best and starts talking.

-----

“Heeey, bro,” says Leo, and Raph wants to weep with relief.

He’s two full blocks away from the grocery now, headed for the manhole cover closest to the lair. Their groceries are somewhere on the street behind him, and Splinter is held tight in his other arm. When Leo didn’t pick up right away, Raph started moving.

He felt it, after all: not as strong as the first time, not as desperate or afraid, but still there. Leo, terrified and alone and angry, crying out for help.

Leo hadn’t answered the first four calls, and the worst scenarios are still playing out in Raph’s imagination, even though he can hear Leo now.

“Leo!” he cries, and nearly fumbles the phone. He hits the speaker button, lowering it so Splinter can hear, too. “What happened!? Are you okay!? We’re on our way back right now!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” says Leo, and his voice is scratchy and hoarse, but trying to be placating. “What are you talking about, big guy?” He sounds shaky, like saying those words in that tone is taking so much effort, and Raph wants to hit something until it breaks. 

“Just tell me what happened,” he says, trying to sound calm and failing. Splinter pats his arm and speaks up.

“We just need to know if you are alright, Blue.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” says Leo, his voice cracking a bit on the last word. He clears his throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Raph falters, staring at the phone. Does Leo not know? Could Leo really not feel himself doing that?

He gives his dad a helpless look. Unfortunately, Splinter looks just as helpless. Raph dithers on his answer too long, finally choking out, “Raph just… got a bad feeling.”

“You get bad feelings over everything.”

(Raph wishes he did. Then he would have gotten a bad feeling when Leo went to Run of the Mill on his own.)

“This was just… a real bad feeling.”

“Leonardo,” says Splinter softly, “are you certain you are okay?”

“Yeah,” says Leo, and he doesn’t sound like he’s okay, but like an actor pretending to be someone who’s okay. “It’s… Look, me and Drax got in a fight, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“He fought you!?” Raph shouts. Someone across the street gives him a weird look.

“Not physically!” says Leo hastily. “Not- I mean- he didn’t- it’s not like he would hurt me, right?”

It sounds a little too much like an actual question, and Raph feels queasy.

“He better not, or Raph’ll hurt him.”

“Red,” says Splinter softly. Then he says, into the phone, “No, Blue. He will not hurt you.”

“...Right,” says Leo quietly. “Yeah. He won’t.”

Raph breathes shakily, trying to quell the urge to pummel a car parked on the side of the road into scrap metal. “Listen, we’re on our way back right now, okay? Just give us-”

“You got the groceries already?” Leo interrupts. He sounds so fragile.

Again, Raph looks helplessly at Splinter. This time, Splinter steps in.

“We’re getting them right now, Blue. Then we’ll be on our way back.”

“...Yeah. Cool. Good.” Leo clears his throat again. “Then… see you guys in a few?”

“...Yeah,” says Raph, at a loss. “A few.”

“Okay. Well. Bye.”

He hangs up. Raph doesn’t move the phone, staring at it long after the screen goes dark and Leo’s smiling face disappears.

“Pops, we’re not really going back for the food, are we?”

“He’ll be upset if we come back without it.”

Raph knows he’s right. He knows that. But everything in his body is screaming to get back to Leo right now, not to leave him alone for another second.

“We can’t all run off and leave him again,” he says.

“Yes,” agrees Splinter. “You are right.”

Raph nods. Then, even though it tears him apart, he turns around and starts walking back to the grocery store. He hopes no one spotted their bags and took them, or they’ll have to start over. They’ll have to leave Leo alone even longer.

“He hated being alone as a kid,” he says.

“I know,” says his dad.

“We shouldn’t have left him today. I knew it.”

“Yes. You were right.”

Raph feels a little mad at Splinter then, that he didn’t think through the consequences. Splinter said this isn’t on Raph alone, but if he’s the only one thinking about the wellbeing of his brothers…

His brothers.

He puts Splinter down, then unlocks his phone again. “I’m gonna call the other guys. They probably felt that, too.”

“A good idea,” says Splinter. Raph nods at the approval, then clicks Donnie’s contact.

Thankfully for Raph’s anxiety, he answers on the second ring. “Hello you are now conversing with Donatello,” he says in a rush, following up with, “What happened to Leo!? Are you home!?”

“No, but I talked to him,” Raph reassures him quickly. “He says he and Barry got in a fight.”

“A fight!?” Donnie echoes. “Aha! I knew he’d turn back to supervillainy one day! You owe me twenty bucks!” A pause, and then Donnie says, “Wait, is Leo okay!?”

“No,” says Raph honestly, “but I think it’s just a normal sort of bad. It wasn’t that kinda fight.”

“Ah. An emotional fight…” Donnie sighs. “But it was bound to happen, I suppose.”

“…Yeah,” Raph agrees, even though he thinks there must have been something they could have done to prevent it. He thinks about the chips again. He doesn’t know what the right thing was, still. “You felt it, right?”

“Yes. It wasn’t as strong as the first time, though.”

“What about Mikey, did he feel it, too?”

“Probably.”

Raph frowns. “You don’t know?”

“I am not Micheal.”

“…So can you ask?”

“I suppose I can text him for you.”

Raph nearly drops the phone. Then he glances down at Splinter, looking for any hint that he’s listening into Donnie’s half of the conversation.

“Why don’t you ask him, since he is right there with you where he is supposed to be!?”

“H-huh? Oh. Oh, yes!” Donnie chuckles nervously. “The buddy system, where he is my buddy, and stays in the same place as me and doesn’t go anywhere else.”

“Right,” hisses Raph. “That buddy system.”

“Yes! Well. He iiiis…n’t with me, but! He is. Here. On the other side of the junkyard!”

Raph rubs the bridge of his nose. “Well, tell him to get back from the other side of the junkyard right now so he can be with his buddy!”

“Yes, I will do that. Right now. And then we’ll be together because we’re in the same place, haha, but I’m so very busy right now goodbye Raphala!”

He hangs up the phone. Raph scowls at it.

“Is everything alright?” asks Splinter, and Raph wants to rat them out, just for a moment, but he ain’t a snitch. Even when he thinks his brothers are being unbelievably stupid.

“Everything’s fine, Pops,” he says, quickly opening his text thread with Mikey.

boy you better get your butt back to D right now or so help me you will NOT like what comes next

Then he gives Splinter a strained smile and repeats, “Everything’s fine! Let’s get those groceries!”

-----

When Draxum comes back, he’s carrying a plastic baggy, a bottle of Gatorade, and a whiteboard under his arm. He requests permission to sit on Leo’s bed, and Leo nods reluctantly.

He sets the whiteboard to the side, then opens the Gatorade and passes it to Leo. Then he opens the plastic baggy and holds that out, too.

There’s crackers in the bag. Leo takes them, a little stunned.

“I can eat these?” he asks.

“They’ll help settle your stomach,” says Draxum. “It’s not good for you to eat too much, but it’s also not good for your stomach to sit empty.”

Leo cautiously takes one of the crackers out, watching Draxum as he does. When no hand reaches to stop him, he takes a bite, chewing slow. He still feels a little nauseous, but the familiar texture and taste of the cracker soothes him somehow.

“Good,” says Draxum, propping the whiteboard on his knees and popping the cap off a marker. “Take sips of the drink, too. You need the electrolytes.”

Leo does as he’s told, alternating bites of the cracker with sips of the Gatorade. His stomach slowly unknots, and the tension in his shoulders relaxes.

He wasn’t expecting a snack, but Draxum brought him one.

On the board, Draxum has written the days of the week, and drawn out a grid underneath them. Leo eats his snack and watches as Draxum fills each square on the grid with a number.

“Where’d you even get that?” he asks after a minute.

“I borrowed it from Donatello’s lab.”

Leo whistles. “Without asking?”

“I don’t think he will mind.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” Leo points at the numbers. They aren’t times, or prices, so… “What are these?”

Draxum lowers the board, turning to look at Leo. “Do you know what refeeding syndrome is?”

“…Should I?”

Draxum shakes his head. “No, there’s no reason for you to have known. I should have explained this sooner, but it didn’t feel necessary. …And I thought it might scare you.”

“Scare me?” Leo repeats. He’s not sure what could be even more scary than the fear he feels all the time now.

“I am not telling you this to scare you,” Draxum stresses. “I am telling you this so you understand what is happening now.”

Leo slowly nods.

“Right. So, do you know that when a person is starving, their body changes how it processes nutrients?”

“Yeah, it’s like, starvation mode.”

“If you must call it that,” says Draxum with a nod. “The body stops relying on carbs and glucose and uses fatty acids instead. This helps preserve the muscles, but causes a severe depletion in intracellular minerals.”

That sounded like a Donnie-level infodump to Leo. He stares at Draxum blankly. “Can you say that again, en Ingles por favor?”

Draxum actually makes a noise that could almost be a laugh. “Alright, think of it this way: a painter wants to use purple, but their purple paints are running low. So they start using red and blue mixed together, which solves the problem of preserving the purple paint, at the cost of running low on red and blue.”

Leo raises his eye ridges. “Is this how you explain stuff to Mikey?”

Draxum shrugs. “He understands art metaphors.”

Leo settles back a little more comfortably on his bed. He munches on a cracker. “It’s fine for today. Think of a comic book metaphor for next time.”

Draxum gives a long suffering sigh and says, “Fine. But do you understand now?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. So when a person eats again after a long term starvation event, their body won’t start relying on glucose again right away. It’s still in “starvation mode,” as you called it, and switching isn’t easy. The painter buys a new purple paint, but the color is different enough that they will have to use more red and blue to blend the two together.”

“I’m starting to lose track of the art metaphor here. We added purple, but we’re still low on red and blue, right?”

“Yes, precisely. Your body is low on critical minerals, and those need to be replenished at the same time it is given more carbs to convert to glucose.”

“But I still don’t understand why that means I have to eat less,” says Leo.

“Digestion itself takes energy,” says Draxum. “And the body isn’t using the tools it’s being given properly yet. So it is using more and more minerals without replacing any. The imbalance leads to stress on the body, which has negative downstream effects.”

“So, TLDR, if I eat too much right now, my body can’t handle it and I’ll get sick.”

“I have no idea what TLDR means, but yes, simply put.”

Leo looks at the cracker in his hand thoughtfully. “So all the times I’ve puked are refeeding syndrome?”

“No,” says Draxum with a shake of his head. “That is because your stomach has shrunk, and you’ve overstuffed it.” A pause, then Draxum adds, “Though I believe what just happened was a stress response.”

“I’m not stressed,” says Leo. The look Draxum gives him is not convinced. “Sooo then what is refeeding syndrome if it’s not barfing?”

“The lack of minerals causes severe stress on all parts of the body, especially the organs. This can lead to a number of disorders… including organ failure.” Draxum pauses, like he doesn’t want to say more, but he still adds, “In extreme cases, it can lead to heart failure.”

The cracker Leo is holding slips through his fingers. He feels his pulse speed up, something cold and terrible sliding through him.

“If I eat too much my heart could stop?” he asks, and his voice is small.

“In extreme cases,” Draxum repeats. “If you began showing symptoms, we would take you to a hospital. Even in the Hidden City there is no mystic cure-all for this, but they could at least reduce the stress on your organs.”

Leo shakes his head. His hands are trembling. The words feel like they’re coming to him through thousands of feet of water.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?”

“I did not want to scare you,” Draxum says again. “And I did not think it was necessary. Refeeding syndrome is entirely preventable, if precautions are taken.”

It barely penetrates. All Leo wants is food. All he wants is to eat. But now food somehow feels like the enemy. He suddenly queasy again. Should he even be eating these crackers? What is safe? What isn’t?

“Is this forever?” he manages to ask. 

He doesn’t know how to take it, if it is.

“No,” says Draxum quickly. He raises his hand and reaches toward Leo, but Leo flinches. Draxum lets it drop again. “…No, Leonardo, it is not forever,” he says, and his voice is more soft than Leo has ever heard it - more soft than he thought Draxum capable of. “The most critical time for refeeding is the first five to seven days. You are almost clear of the danger zone now. And your enhanced biology may even mean we’re already past it… though I am still being cautious.”

Leo lets out a breath. So it’s not forever - it may even be over. It doesn’t calm the racing of his heart (at least he knows it hasn’t stopped, ha ha), but it does make him feel like he can pick up the cracker again.

“Then what happens once we’re past it?”

“That is what this is for.” Draxum lifts the whiteboard again, perching it on his knees. “Even once you’re out of danger of refeeding syndrome, we’ll still need to build your daily food intake up gradually, until you can eat like you once did. These,” he taps the board with the marker, “are my calorie goals for each meal and snack. As you can see, every day it goes up.”

Leo looks over the counts. They don’t really mean anything to him, but he can at least see how the number increases across the seven days on the board. “How many calories is normal?”

“Based on calculations I have done, going off what I have seen you boys eat as well as my own estimates for your growth, you and Donatello eat roughly five thousand calories a day, sometimes going as high as six thousand when you are particularly active.” Draxum scribbles the number in the corner of the whiteboard. “It’s high compared to humans, but within perfectly healthy limits given your mutant biology and high metabolism. Raphael eats more, and Michelangelo eats a bit less, though not by much.”

“Yeah,” Leo gives a chuckle, “kid can put away a whole large pizza by himself when his blood sugar’s low.”

“Unfortunately, I have seen him do it.” Draxum sighs. “But right now, you are averaging much less.” He taps the numbers. “Our goal right now is to get to where you are eating around twenty two hundred calories a day steadily, without getting sick.”

Leo has never been the math guy, but even he can handle some simple division. “Less than half? Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously. That is why ensuring that your meals are as nutritious as possible is important.” He nods at the pill organizer. “And why the vitamins are important.”

Less than half as much as he used to eat… It leaves Leo feeling a little dizzy again. Nine days without food wrecked his system this hard?

“Don’t panic,” says Draxum in that soft voice again, and Leo feels a little resentment for how it pulls him out of his ensuing spiral. “You can see that your counts are going up steadily, and as we reintroduce solid food it will get even easier. And this is not hard and fast. Going a little above this is not an issue. And I am constantly readjusting as we go. It will take time before you are… putting away entire pizzas.” Draxum scrunches up his face in distaste. “But in a few weeks, you will be eating a much more normal diet than you are now.”

Leo rubs his hand up and down his arm. “Normal like, I can eat potato chips without getting yelled at?”

Draxum sighs. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you to begin with.”

“Yeah, well…” Leo fishes his last cracker out of the bag and rubs it between his fingers. “I gave you a black eye, so I think we’re even.”

“Hmph.” Draxum almost sounds amused, though he doesn’t let his lips quirk up even a tiny bit. Leo thinks he might be allergic to smiles, unless he’s doing something evil. “Still, I hope you understand the situation now.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Leo takes a small bite of the last cracker. Takes his time chewing and swallowing it. “The main thing is you’re going to keep being a pain in the butt for the next few weeks, right?”

“Yes, you’re stuck with me.” Draxum watches him take another bite of cracker, then says, “There’s something else you need to understand, Leonardo. The goal of this,” he taps the whiteboard, “is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”

Leo stares at the board, and the calorie counts, all laid out neatly. “Sure,” he says, and he doesn’t feel it.

Draxum hesitates, then taps each row, reading off, “Breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack. Smaller amounts of food more frequently, to keep your stomach full without overstuffing.”

“Makes sense, I guess.”

“And this can be moved around. If you eat breakfast earlier than normal, you can have a snack in the morning instead. But you tend to sleep in, which is why I structured it this way.”

“Nine’s not sleeping in,” Leo grumbles.

“Nine is- no, this is not the point.” Draxum gives his head a shake. “The point is, if you want to move your eating times around, we can. The goal of this is to keep you from getting sick. It is not to keep you hungry.”

“I heard you the first time.”

“No, I’m not sure you did.” Draxum again uncaps the marker, then writes across the top of the board five simple words:

If you are hungry: eat.

Leo stares at those words. It feels like a trap, a trick - Draxum’s being all nice right now, but the way he ripped the bag from Leo’s hands…

“I was hungry when I ate the chips,” he says, and it’s a little bit of a lie, but that’s not the point. He watches Draxum carefully, for any sign that this is all fake, and Draxum really does want him to suffer.

Draxum’s brows furrow. “You are not in trouble for eating,” he says. “You’ll never be in trouble for eating. It is just good for you right now to eat healthy things. 

“I know it isn’t fair,” he adds, voice blunt, “but life rarely is.”

Leo studies his face. And the amazing thing is, he doesn’t think Draxum is lying.

“So… if I want a late night snack, I can eat some crackers?” he asks, waving the empty baggie.

“Yes. Or a banana, or some yogurt… If you feel very hungry, you could even eat some egg, or leftover soup.”

“And you’re fine with me just eating… whenever?”

“If you are so hungry you need to eat an extra meal, I just ask that you let me know, so I can adjust.” He taps the board. “But yes, I am. You know the stakes now. I trust you.”

Trust. Leo’s never had much of that from anyone. He looks down at the empty bag and wonders if it’s really true.

“…Is there anything you need right now?” Leo lifts his eyes back to Draxum’s face. “I can get it for you.”

Leo thinks about it. “When did you say lunch is?”

“About an hour and twenty minutes, now.”

“Then… I’m fine.” Leo pushes himself further back on his bed, dropping his trash into the space between them.

“Hm. I will bring you some more juice to drink.” Draxum nods at the pill organizer. “You still need to take those.”

Leo shoos him off. “I will, sheesh.” Now that he knows how important it is.

Draxum rolls his eyes and gets up. He takes the trash, but leaves the white board propped against the wall at the foot of Leo’s bed.

He’s almost to the door when Leo clears his throat and says, “Hey Barry?”

Draxum pauses, hand grasping the curtain. “Yes?”

“Any chance we can skip telling my dad and brothers about… everything?”

Draxum looks back at him. “Trust me when I say that I would like to omit this as much as you… But I am going to have to tell your father, at least.”

Leo groans, letting his head fall back on his pillows. “This sucks.”

“Then I will try to think of ways to make it suck less.” Draxum pulls the curtain aside. “Rest, Leonardo. I’ll bring your juice.”

Then he’s gone, leaving Leo alone.

-----

Raph puts the groceries down in the kitchen, then looks toward the escalator leading down. He should stay and help put everything away, but all he wants to do right now is rush to Leo’s side.

“Go,” says Splinter beside him. “I can take care of this.”

That’s all the permission Raph needs; he takes the escalator steps two at a time and crashes down onto the lower level.

Draxum is there, standing outside Leo’s train car and looking at one of his notebooks again. When he hears Raph, he closes it and looks up.

Raph’s eyes catch on the bruise forming on Draxum’s cheek and eye - it’s just starting to darken, but Raph can tell it’s going to be a plum shade of purple by the end of the day.

“He told me it wasn’t physical,” says Raph immediately. A little dangerously.

“It wasn’t, on my end,” says Draxum.

Raph finds that he believes that, and he can’t help the way his lips quirk up at the news.

Draxum scowls. “Yes, yes, very funny.”

Raph claps him on the shoulder. “Come on, Barry. You know you deserved it.”

“We can debate that later,” says Draxum, dry. He nods at the train car. “He’s in his room.”

“Raph figured.” He locks eyes on the room, wishing he could see past the curtains to know Leo’s state. “When you guys were fighting, he… called for us again.”

Draxum’s expression turns more concerned - nearly imperceptibly so, but Raph knows him well enough by now to see it. “Yes, I know.”

“You felt it?”

“No.” Draxum pulls away. “I have things to discuss with Lou Jitsu. Is he in the kitchen?”

“Yeah.” Raph wants to know what Draxum saw, but he always wants to get to Leo as fast as possible. In the end, the draw to his brother is stronger, and he steps forward. “Help him put the groceries up.”

“If I must,” says Draxum, and then he walks away toward the escalator. Raph doesn’t hang around to watch, instead hurrying to Leo’s room.

The room is a mess, even more than normally. His action figures are scattered everywhere, comic books have been knocked from the shelves, his blankets are on the floor. Leo himself is in bed, vacant expression staring at nothing Raph can see, and it’s an eerie way to see his little brother, usually never without his phone or a comic book in his quiet moments. 

He clears his throat, and Leo’s eyes flick his way. “Hey, Leo.”

“Hey.” Leo rouses himself to alertness, like he’d been sleeping with his eyes open. He shifts on his pillows so he can better see Raph. “You guys got the groceries?”

“Yeah, we did,” he assures Leo. He walks in, standing over Leo’s bed. He’d been so anxious to get back here, but now he finds himself trapped in the same place as always, unsure what to say or do.

Leo stares up at him. “…Everything okay, hermano?”

“I came to ask you that.” Raph sits down on the edge of the bed, then startles when something hard falls against his arm. He looks and finds a whiteboard, with numbers that make no sense to him written in neat columns (not Leo’s handwriting), and, across the top:

If you are hungry: eat.

Raph can’t help but stare at those words a few seconds longer. Is this something Leo needed to be told?

Beside him, Leo is saying, “Me and Drax got in a fight, but we worked it out. It’s fine.”

“Yeah.” Raph grins, tearing his eyes away from the whiteboard to look at Leo. “I saw the shiner you gave him.”

He’s expecting a grin back; for Leo’s expression to turn mischievous, or cocky. For Leo to proudly take credit for punching Draxum right in the eye.

He’s not expecting Leo to flinch and look away. “I thought he was better at dodging than that,” he says.

Raph falters, not sure how to respond. He knows Leo; his little brother would never hit anyone for no reason, even someone like Baron Draxum. Leo might playfight, Leo might even throw things at them from time to time, but he never aimed to hurt, only to irritate. 

Once again, Raph doesn’t know the right way to approach this situation. Should he try to talk to Leo about this? Is he the right person to try? Would Leo even want to hear it from Raph, who so often struggles with his own anger responses?

(He thinks about the fight again, and feels a rush of shame.)

He’s still trying to work it out when Leo changes the subject.

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Leo picks at some fuzz on his sheets. “About the chips.”

That’s something else Raph has been trying to figure out. But now, for this question at least, he has an answer.

“They didn’t have anyone’s name on ‘em.”

Leo’s fingers pause. “But you know I’m not supposed to eat those.”

“Yeah, well… I still wasn’t gonna tell. Raph’s not a snitch.” He shrugs. “Look, I know Barry’s right and you gotta be careful about what you eat so you don’t get sick. But this is still your house, Leo. We agreed a long time ago that unless food has someone’s name on it, it’s fair game.”

Leo actually smiles just a little at that, and Raph feels his heart leap at the sight. It’s not quite a full, big Leo smile, but it’s something. “And sometimes the name doesn’t stop us.”

Raph laughs. “That’s just because I got three little brothers who are a pain in the shell.” He reaches out to rub Leo’s head, and is a little surprised and a lot pleased when Leo doesn’t duck it. 

(It wraps around to concern again, when Leo seems to chase the touch like he’ll drown without it.)

“Listen,” he says, “Draxum gives you any more trouble and you just come tell me, okay? I’ll deal with it. We’ll get it worked out.” He moves his hand down to scratch the ridge of Leo’s shell, right where he can’t easily reach himself. “Raph’s got your back.”

Leo goes tense under his fingers, and Raph thinks he’s said something wrong. But the soft little, “Oh,” Leo says after isn’t upset. It’s just… surprised.

But why would he be surprised by that?

But when Raph thinks about it… when’s the last time he told Leo that? When’s the last time he felt like Leo had his back, too?

Somewhere along the way, he and Leo lost what made them them. Best friends, friendly rivals, brothers through thick and thin. It all got swallowed up by their fights and disagreements. And then Leo was taken from him.

But Leo isn’t gone. Leo is right here.

And suddenly Raph doesn’t know how he’s made it this long without hugging his little brother. He should have already. That should have been the first thing.

He moves the hand that’s scratching Leo’s shell to more firmly grab his back, watching close to see Leo’s reaction. Leo’s eyes flutter closed, like he feels totally safe, and Raph doesn’t waste the trust that’s been given to him.

He lifts Leo up and pulls him into his lap, wrapping his arms around in the safest bear hug he can give. Leo melts into it, his head leaning against Raph’s plastron, his arm coming up to loosely hook itself around Raph’s neck. 

“I gotcha, Leo,” he promises, cradling him close. “I gotcha.”

“I know,” says Leo, but Raph wonders if he really does. Raph hasn’t done a great job of showing it.

He still doesn’t know his answer. He still feels a stab in his heart when he thinks of Leo saying he did what a hero would. But April was right. Leo doesn’t need big emotional confrontations right now. He needs his big brother.

And Raph can do that. It’s the thing he’s best at.

“Hey,” he says, “wanna come watch Jupiter Jim: Venture to Venus with me?”

Leo opens his eyes to squint up at him. “Dee’ll hate it if he misses the sing-along parts,” he says, but now, finally, a little bit of his mischievousness is back.

Raph grins. “What Donnie doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Leo laughs then, small and tired and hoarse but there. Raph gives him another squeeze, then stands up and takes Leo with him.

He’s still unsettlingly light, like he was when Raph lifted him from the cot. But there’s a little more of him back.

If they get a little more of him every day, eventually, his little brother will truly be home.

-----

Leo stays in his lap for the movie. He makes no attempt to leave and Raph makes no attempt to remove him.

Splinter brings them lunch around the halfway mark: the alphabet soup they bought at the store for Leo, with bread and more banana for after. Leo complains that he’s not a little kid, but out of the corner of his eye Raph catches him industriously fishing around for the letters L, E, and O. He gets a little, self-satisfied smile on his face at his accomplishment, and Raph has to force his eyes to focus on the screen before he squishes Leo like one of his teddy bears.

After lunch, Leo dozes off. It’s not a surprise, especially given how eventful the morning was. Raph’s just glad it’s actual sleep and not that scary, blank-eyed stare he saw Leo with earlier.

Raph stays there after his arms fall asleep, after the movie ends, after he hears Donnie and Mikey come home (together, at least). He’d stay there all night, but Splinter comes in and puts a hand on his arm. He’s carrying a plate with a snack for Leo.

“Draxum wants to talk to you and Purple and Orange.”

Raph looks at Leo, still curled up against him, and shakes his head. “I don’t wanna leave him.”

“It’s alright. I will be here with him.” Splinter pats his arm again. “Take a break and stretch. You can sit with him after you’re done.”

Reluctantly, Raph gets up. He shifts Leo to the chair as carefully as he can (Leo murmurs in his sleep but doesn’t wake), then looks back at Splinter.

“You’ll be here when he wakes up, right?” he asks again.

(Maybe he’s still a little mad.)

“Yes,” Splinter promises. “I’ll be here.”

So Raph leaves. He shakes out his arms and legs, stiff from holding Leo, then swings by the bathroom before making his way to the kitchen. He can hear Mikey there already.

“-tell us what happened,” Mikey is saying, standing with his arms crossed and face angry. This is the most frustrated Raph can remember seeing Mikey act toward Draxum. Beside him, Donnie looks equally agitated.

“I have told your father what happened,” says Draxum, looking much more calm by comparison, “and we have agreed to maintain Leonardo’s privacy for now.”

“Is it about Leo’s privacy or do you think we just don’t deserve to know?” Mikey snaps. Raph knows that tone, and he knows this is about to turn into a fight.

He steps into the middle before it can. “Hold up, Mikey. Let’s hear him out.” His little brother does not seem happy with that, and he opens his mouth to argue, but before he can Raph refocuses on Draxum. “Tell us what’s goin’ on, Barry.”

Draxum’s eyes move slowly between all three of them before landing on Raph. “As I was telling your brothers, Lou Jitsu and I have agreed not to tell you all the details of what happened earlier, primarily because we are not sure how much Leonardo himself is comfortable with you knowing.”

It stings, but Raph knows he’s right. It’s like the security tapes Donnie chose not to watch. They have to let Leo decide how much they know and how much they don’t.

Still, Raph has his concerns. He folds his arms, mimicking his brothers behind him, and stares Draxum down. “Alright,” he says, and ignores the indignant noise Mikey makes behind him, “but did you tell Pops everything?”

“Yes.”

“Everything?”

“Yes,” Draxum repeats. “He needs to know, so we know how to care for Leonardo going forward.”

Raph isn’t as good at reading people as Leo, but it’s not like Draxum is an enigma, either. He doesn’t think the old goat is lying, so Raph relaxes his posture.

“Okay,” he says. “As long as Dad knows.”

“He did something so bad Leo punched him!” Mikey argues. “Leo doesn’t just do that!”

“In his defense,” says Donnie, “Draxum’s face is very punchable.”

Raph snorts at the indignant look Draxum gives that remark.

“Honestly,” says Draxum with a sigh, “all four of you boys are the same… But I can tell you that much.” He looks down, not meeting their eyes now. “I took food from your brother’s hands, before I realized what an error that is.”

All of them stiffen. Behind him, Raph senses Donnie shifting his weight in agitation. 

“You took food from him!?” cries Mikey. He sounds so betrayed. “Why!?”

“I was worried about him making himself sick,” Draxum explains. “But I did not handle it well. I have already apologized to him.”

“You better have!” Ah, there’s Doctor Delicate Touch.

“I have,” Draxum repeats. “And we have reached an understanding… which is what I need to talk to the three of you about.” He looks at them now. “There are going to be some new rules around here, at least for the duration of Leonardo’s recovery.”

“What rules?” asks Raph. “Besides don’t yank food out of Leo’s hands?”

“Well, that is an important one.” Draxum nods. “But we have also decided to adhere to a more strict meal schedule than you do normally. If meals are coming at regular, predictable times, we think this will reduce a lot of stress for Leonardo.”

Raph thinks of the words on the whiteboard. Of the neat rows of numbers. Does Leo wonder when he’ll be fed next? Does it scare him, not knowing?

Doesn’t he know his family would never let him go hungry?

“It makes sense,” says Donnie behind him. “We usually eat whenever we feel like it, but if Leo has to be careful with his diet, having a routine will make it easier.”

If Donnie thinks so, it’s probably right. Raph nods. “Yeah, sure. Whatever we gotta do to help Leo.”

Draxum nods back. “Right now, we’re planning for breakfast at eight, or whenever he wakes up, lunch at noon, and dinner at six. Leo will get regular snacks as well; smaller, more frequent meals are better for him right now than three large ones. Of course, the three of you can still do what you feel like; if you want your own snack, or want to eat later, you can.”

“Let’s all try to eat with Leo,” says Raph, looking back at his brothers. Donnie nods immediately; Mikey hesitates.

“Will Leo be in trouble,” he asks, “if he eats snacks when you didn’t tell him to?”

“No,” says Draxum. “I have already told him this. If he’s hungry, he can eat; he doesn’t need anyone to tell him he can.”

Raph’s glad to hear that; he knows he wouldn’t have been able to play food police. Mikey seems to calm down at this reassurance, too, and he nods.

“Okay. Then, we’re starting tonight? Dinner at six?”

“Yes.” Draxum seems relieved, that Mikey doesn’t look so angry anymore. “You can help me, if you want.”

“Duh,” says Mikey, and Draxum cringes. “I’ll be here!”

He and Donnie leave then; Donnie says he’s going to finish Leo’s curtains, and Mikey goes to his room. Raph hangs back, watching Draxum.

“You sure you didn’t touch him?” he asks, once he’s sure his brothers are out of earshot.

Draxum looks at him, open, not hiding. “I did not. I acted rashly, but I would not lay a hand on him.”

“…Okay. I believe you.” Raph folds his arms. “But if Leo ever tells me anything different, you know what happens next, right?”

“I do. But I would not hurt him.” Draxum looks nonchalant, despite the conversation. “Despite my best efforts, I’ve grown fond of all of you. I’m here to help him.”

Raph can’t help but smile at that. It’s probably as close as Barry will ever get to being affectionate.

“Thanks, then. For all you’re doin’.” Raph turns to leave. “But don’t yank food out of his hands again.”

“I won’t. You have my word.”

Raph decides to take it.

-----

“Blue…? Are you awake?”

Leo blinks his eyes open to find Splinter peering down at him, a plate in his hand. Blearily, he sits up in the recliner. It takes him a moment to realize he’s by himself now - Raph has gone.

It makes him feel a little sad. He knows Raph still has something he wants to yell about, but there for a short while, it was really nice to just be his little brother.

Now his dad is here, with food. Leo remembers the chart Draxum gave him - breakfast, lunch, snack, dinner, snack - and feels his heart relax.

“Hey, Dad. Yeah, I’m awake.”

“Very good. I have brought you some more yogurt and fruit.”

“Yippee,” says Leo, tone flat. “I’m gonna be the most regular guy on the planet after this.”

Splinter laughs at that, and it makes Leo feel a little sense of triumph. “Cherish it while you’re young.”

“Ew, gross,” he says, and Splinter laughs again.

Leo eats his snack. The projector skips on the screen, still on but with nothing set to play. Splinter settles in on the arm of the chair and waits until Leo’s almost done.

Then he says, “Draxum told me what happened earlier.”

Leo goes stiff. He swallows his bite of banana around the knot in his throat. 

“Yeah, he… said he was going to tell you.”

“I’m sorry that he was so harsh with you. You are not in trouble for taking the chips. The food in this lair is as much yours as it is any of ours.”

“I know,” says Leo, even though he’s not sure of anything anymore. But it’s what Splinter wants to hear.

“I won’t be leaving you alone with him again.” Splinter pats his arm. “He may be reformed, but he is still stupid, and not at all fit to take care of children!”

“Which is what makes him perfect for a public school lunchroom,” says Leo, and grins when it gets another laugh out of his dad.

Leo finishes his snack. The projector is still skipping. It makes a little clicking noise every few seconds.

“...Leonardo,” says Splinter, and Leo tenses up again.

“Oh no, full name…”

“You are not in trouble,” says Splinter again. Leo wonders why he keeps saying that. “But I have to ask you this again. When you were… with the EPF. Did anyone touch you in any way?”

Leo stares at him. Why are they having this conversation again?

“No. I told you that, remember?”

“I remember. But I have to make sure.” Splinter puts his hand on Leo’s. Leo stares at it. “Did anyone… make you do something you didn’t want to do?”

“Uh… besides stay there?”

“Leonardo.” Splinter’s tone is not angry, but Leo still winces. “I understand that this is uncomfortable to talk about. But I need to know for your safety. Did any of them do anything to you? Or make you do something to them? To yourself?”

Leo stares at his dad’s hand. He thinks of getting down on his knees and begging.

“...No.” He gives his head a shake. “They didn’t even hit me or anything.” And it’s the truth.

They didn’t really do anything to him at all.

“...Alright.” Splinter leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Leo’s head. Leo keeps his eyes on their hands and listens to the skip of the projector. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He hands the empty plate over and sinks further into the recliner cushions. He wishes the conversation hadn’t curdled the snack in his guts. “Uh, can we… turn on something so the projector isn’t making that sound?”

“Oh, yes!” Splinter sets the plate aside, then grabs for the remote. “It is aaalmost time for Scorpion Treadmill!”

Leo snorts despite himself. “Sure, sounds great.”

Splinter finds the channel and settles into the chair next to Leo. Leo closes his eyes and listens to the Japanese he can barely understand and his dad’s laughter, and tries to ignore the way his own skin feels slimy.

-----

After dinner, and after his snack, Donnie shows him the new curtains.

The new rods are just as makeshift as the ones from the day before, with the same color and the same details. Leo loves them. He tells Donnie so, and Donnie grins big and happy, and Leo feels happy, too, that he can still make at least one brother look like that.

“Oh, I’m so glad you like them!” says Donnie, for what must be the fifth time. “But seriously, if you want me to add some smart tech to them, just say the word.”

“Thanks but no thanks, Dee. I don’t want my curtains to gain sentience on me.”

Donnie pouts, but it’s good natured. He comes over and sits on the bed next to Leo, the two of them looking around his room. It’s crazy to Leo, how different it looks now. Though, maybe the mess is contributing to that feeling…

“It’s so dark in here now,” Donnie observes. His tone is totally neutral in a way Donnie could never hope to fake, so Leo doesn’t take it as a judgment.

Which is good, because Leo doesn’t know how to explain that he likes it that way. That the dark makes him feel calm and safe. Hidden.

“I could always add more lighting,” he says instead. He has his lanterns and a desk lamp, but he has to admit, some things will be harder without the ambient lights from outside.

“Oh, I can do that next!” says Donnie. “What kind of lighting do you want? I can see what I have in the lab-”

“Whoa, hey,” says Leo quickly. He reaches over and flicks Donnie on his big forehead. (It lacks any force, because Leo is still weak, but Donnie says, “Ow!” exaggeratedly anyway.) “I get that you’re trying to help, but you’ve done enough. I know you must have some battleshell or robot or nuclear bomb you’re dying to work on instead.”

Donnie falters at that. He eyes Leo, the same way everyone does lately, like he’s some kind of timebomb that might go off.

“I just want you to be comfortable,” he says.

“What do you mean? I’m super comfy!” Leo waves the sleeve of his hoodie in demonstration. “It’s the lair, Don-ton. Same as always.”

Donnie’s expression goes even flatter. He turns his eyes on the train car walls. “Same as always? It hasn’t even been a year.”

Leo flinches. Right, well… So it’s not the same as ever. But it’s the same as the one he was stolen from, and that’s all that matters, right?

“You know what I mean.” He bumps their shoulders together. “It’s home. It’s where you guys are. I’m totally fine.”

And he means that.

He means it, he means it, he means it.

“...Right.” Donnie is trying to sound like he believes Leo. “Well, if you change your mind about the lighting, you know where to find me.”

“I sure do, hermano.” He bumps their shoulders again. “Thanks, though.”

They sit for a moment in silence. Leo wonders if he should offer a late night movie session, or if he should send Donnie on his way. He’s torn. He doesn’t really want to be alone. But he doesn’t want to bother Donnie more than he already has.

Before he can decide, Donnie’s phone dings. He picks it up and clicks something on his screen.

“What’s up?” asks Leo.

“Oh nothing.” Donnie waves a hand. “Draxum just finally decided to leave. About time…”

“Huh? How do you… know…”

Leo leans over on his shoulder to look, and answers his own question.

Cameras. Of course Donnie has cameras. This one is outside the entrance to the lair from the sewers, and Leo can see Draxum’s retreating back as he heads for the nearest manhole.

“The camera alerts me whenever anyone other than one of the five of us leaves,” Donnie is saying. “It’s part of the security upgrades I’ve been working on.”

“Security upgrades,” Leo repeats, feeling a little faint.

Donnie doesn’t notice, jumping on the chance to infodump. “Yes! I’ve added more cameras, and proximity alarms, and I’ve been working on more upgrades to our trackers, like I told you. Oh, and new security measures for my baby, of course. And once Shelldon’s new body is complete, I’ll integrate him with the system as well, and…”

Donnie’s still talking, but Leo can’t hear it. His eyes are tracking all around his train car - the dark corners, the shelves, the nooks and crannies.

Donnie has cameras all over the lair.

Where are the cameras in here?

-----

For another night in a row, Leo doesn’t sleep.

[maruflix]

  — ★ 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇

☆ — “STOP THIS NONSENSE AND MAYBE I’LL LET YOU TAKE ME OUT ON A DATE, HOW ABOUT THAT?”

FROM THIS ASK

SYNOPSIS : Spending all your waking hours surrounded by rowdy boys in the biggest dojo in town, it’s no surprise that you grow up to be a skilled fighter with a fiery personality to match (you suppose it is one of your charms). You are the tempest incarnate, a force to be reckoned with — and Takiishi Chika can’t help but get swallowed up in your storm. FEATURING : Takiishi Chika x f!reader CONTENT : 3.6k words, badass!reader, chika can’t express himself, endo gets beat up (again), enemies to lovers, soft chika ftw, pining, jealous chika, things escalate quickly, slightly suggestive but you know i can’t write smut so i don’t, reader is both physically and mentally badass

“A challenger? What the fuck does that even mean?”

Nights at the dojo are spent by sitting on the floors, doing cooldowns and chatting about whatever interesting gossip circulates around the town. Tonight is no exception— you’re sitting cross legged on the mat that carpets your family dojo with your friends stretching not far away from you.

Sakura Haruka is the first one to answer, his eyes shining in excitement, “So one of our seniors heard that we train at your dojo, and somehow the news got to two real scary seniors! Their names are Takiishi Chika and Endo Yamato.”

“They’re bad news, really. Always out looking for a fight with anyone to scratch a weird fighting itch, I guess? They’re real delinquents.” Those words are harsh, especially when they came from the gentlest, kindest guy you knew, Umemiya Hajiime.

“Anyway, we just heard it from a friend of a friend. It might be a hoax for all we know.” Suo Hayato pipes up from behind you, massaging your tense shoulders with the ease of a seasoned masseur.

Your arched eyebrows have now relaxed thanks to Suo’s expert hands, but a slight annoyance is still visible on your features. “Well damn, I didn’t realize we’re living in the world of Tekken Chinmi. What, are they gonna destroy my place and steal the secret dojo technique if they win?”

“Huh? You have a secret technique?”

“I’m pretty sure she’s joking, Sakura…” At Nirei’s reply, Sakura’s face turned beet red. You laugh boisterously as the poor boy fumbles with his blue belt.

“Anyway, I’m pretty sure the old man won’t let me kick their asses if they really do come.” You are unable to mask your disappointment and your friends’ expressions start to turn into worried ones.

“(Y/N)...” Umemiya warns, “Whatever you’re thinking in that head of yours, stop. They’re actually really strong.”

“As strong as you?” Smirking, you take a jab at him, to which he barely dodged. Even though he may not look like it, you’ve experienced first hand how strong Umemiya is in a fight. Belt rankings sometimes don’t mean a thing when it comes to real fighting, and Umemiya is a surprisingly seasoned fighter. (The current record is 11-10, but you’re aiming to get it to a 11-11 at least by the end of this month.)

“One of them is too emotional and reckless, but the other one?” Umemiya trails off, as if thinking about something from long ago, “He’s crazy strong.”

You raise an eyebrow, now thoroughly interested. Umemiya Hajime with his pretty face and eerie calmness is a real pain in the ass to fight during kumite, being one of the only guys in the dojo to actually beat you, who have been training since you were a toddler. So for that kind of guy to say that someone is ‘crazy strong’? It certainly rouses your curiosity.

“Anyway, why are you guys not heading home already?”

Like a cue, the doors are slammed open, the chilly night wind invading the warm dojo air. You shiver involuntarily as the cool breeze tickles the part of your neck that is not covered by your gi. Everyone turns their head to look at the visitor, and they certainly have mixed reactions.

Sakura and Nirei let out a full gasp. Suo stays silent, even though his eyes are bulging out from his skull. Umemiya growls, a displeased scowl on his face. You, on the other hand, are puzzled upon seeing a boy with messy black hair standing at the door. A loose black yukata envelops his muscular body that is covered with tattoos, and his blue eyes are locked on you.

“Hey, can I help you?” You wanted to cuss him out for not immediately closing the door, but your father has always told you to be kind to potential customers. So you roll your eyes, bite back your ‘fuck you’s, and ask him in the most sarcastic tone possible: “And can you close the door, please? It’s literally November.”

The boy’s lips twist up to form a cheshire grin as he studies you, ignoring the four glares that are directed at him. “You’re the owner of this dojo, yeah?”

You roll your eyes again. “Too bad for me, my old man’s still alive and kickin’. And too bad for you, he’s out right now. What business do you have with him?”

He chuckles, a low tone that definitely spells trouble. “Nah, it’s you I have business with. That belt of yours, is it real or is it just for decoration?”

Your eyes glance down at the two-striped black belt that hugs your waist snugly. You have worked your ass off to get to where you are, all the blood, sweat, and tears that carried you from a white belt to an officially recognized nidan— not just a black belt, but a black belt of the second degree. It’s fairly new, too, the excitement that you got from receiving it a week ago is still not completely gone.

“What’s it to you?”

Your friends tense up next to you. They’ve seen you try not to stir up a fight, but with the way the situation is progressing…

“(Y/N), this is one of the seniors we were talking about.” Nirei whispers in a pleading tone, hoping to calm you down. It only riles you up.

“Oh, nothing. I seem to have exhausted all the fighters in town and I remembered that there’s still one place I haven’t gone to. Maybe my opponent won’t disappoint me this time?” The challenge is clear in his voice. With every step he takes, your eyes only narrow even further. You are now standing face to face with him, looking at him squarely in the eye, like two tigers sizing up each other.

“If you’re looking for a fight, I suggest you do it elsewhere. This is no place for your egotistical, frivolous hobby.” Despite the itch in your arms to deliver a blow straight to his smirking face, you still try to honor your father’s wishes not to start petty fights, especially not in the dojo.

“Oooh, you scared? Wanna call daddy? But I bet I’d beat him up too.”

There is a deafening silence. Even with all the playful banter, a normal human being should know that there are some lines that you cannot cross. But the damn idiot took a big stride across the fucking line. Your friends are watching mutely with mouths hanging open as your last strand of patience finally snaps.

Oooh. He is so gonna get it. 

“Is that so? Very well, you started it. Don’t go crying to mommy when you lose.”

He’s visibly pleased to see that he’s successfully angered you. “Endo Yamato, by the way.”

“Boy, you won’t even remember your name by the time I’m done with you.”

And with that, you grab fistfuls of his black yukata and knee him straight in the gut.

Takiishi Chika isn’t sure what to think when Endo Yamato limps to him that afternoon, lip cut and cheeks bruised. He knows that for all the bullshit Endo spews out he would certainly get into real trouble someday, but he has always thought that Endo is not that bad of a fighter. A bad judge of character, yes, but not a bad fighter.

So why is he clutching his right arm and wincing in pain like he’s just got back from war?

“... what happened to you?”

Endo stops in front of him and winces again as he looks down at his arm. It is now sporting a bluish-purple bruise. He can’t even stand straight because his stomach is still pulsing uncomfortably. “That damned girl…”

“Girl?”

“From the damned dojo… the one I told you about yesterday…”

Takiishi hums in acknowledgement, recalling the same dojo Endo has been blabbing excitedly about. ‘Apparently,’ he had said, ‘it’s where the Furin guys go. And get this, get this, they practice with the owner’s daughter! Ha!’ he had snorted, ‘Bet I can beat her up in less than ten seconds, what a joke.’

Warily, Takiishi sweeps his gaze over Endo. The minor cuts on his face are probably from a sharp nail. The bleeding lip, a punch? The bruises are most probably from powerful punches. The way he is limping like that, he definitely got his footing sweeped. He blinks when Endo hunches over more; yup, definitely kneed in the gut. What a joke.

“Stronger than Umemiya?”

“More or less the same… I think.”

Takiishi has guessed as much, with the way Endo is struggling to speak. He doesn’t really care about avenging Endo, the weakling blabbermouth, but this girl he is speaking of is certainly interesting. He can feel his heart thrum in excitement. A girl as strong as Umemiya Hajime? Now that’s someone he should definitely meet.

“Aw, I missed all the fun stuff!” Hiragi Toma groans, holding his head in his hands. Your four friends have made it their life mission to tell the world about the showdown at the dojo yesterday, and now everyone at Furin High knows your name, your dojo, and how you kicked Endo Yamato’s irritating ass.

Kaji Ren offers you a lollipop, and you take it gratefully, unwrapping it before plopping it into your mouth. Your sides still hurt slightly from the harsh kick you received from the asshole, but you’re otherwise fine. You have expected Endo to be crazy strong, but once you one-upped him a bit, he instantly loses all rationality and ends up crumpled up beneath you. Pathetic ass.

“You okay? Does it still hurt? Ugh, how can I face your father now?!” Umemiya groans. You can tell from his face that he’s proud and satisfied of your victory, but also worried sick. It doesn’t help that your dad has made him the person in charge of looking after you. Something about you being a troublemaker who needs a reliable person to take care of you, and blah blah blah. Mostly, Umemiya is your childhood friend and he can be overprotective when he’s not handing you your ass at the dojo.

“Calm down, it’s just a small bruise.” Truth be told, it hurts a lot more than you let on. (As if you’d let your friends know that.)

“You need to take care of yourself more.” Great, now Kaji of all people is lecturing you too. You pout at him, about to make a snide comeback, before you bump into Sakura’s back. Noticing that Sakura and your friends have now stopped walking to look straight ahead, you peek from behind Sakura’s shoulders to see yet another stranger. 

In just one glance, you can tell that this person is a lot stronger than the weirdo who stormed your dojo. Standing just a few centimeters shorter than Umemiya, the golden-eyed boy is openly staring at you. His orange-red hair contrasts the dark attire he wears. Before anyone can say anything, he is already marching to your direction, a murderous aura heavy on the air. Sakura is the first to react, protectively shielding you from the other’s advances.

Your blood runs cold when he gets smacked away. Hard. Sakura stumbles, instantly supported by Suo and Nirei before he falls down. You snap your eyes to the stranger, anger flaring like a wildfire. “You’re the other one, aren’t you?” Halting his movements, he merely grins like a maniac at your question.

This time Umemiya is the one who steps in front of you, eyebrows knitted and lips pursed in a thin line. “Takiishi. What do you think you’re doing?” Kaji and Hiragi quickly move to shield you as well, shoulders squared.

The four guys are now having a staring showdown with neither of them backing down. But what they don’t realize is how furious you are. Sliding from behind Umemiya, you face this ‘Takiishi’. “You wanna get your ass handed to you like your little friend yesterday?” Despite Suo’s pleas to calm down, you press on. “Wait, are you here to avenge him?”

Your mocking laugh doesn’t affect him in the slightest. “He’s weak.” He simply states, and you did a double take at how nonchalant he sounds. “It’s too noisy. I’ll find you when you’re alone.” Without waiting for an answer, Takiishi leaves.

Scrunching up your nose, you merely smirk. “When I’m alone, huh? I’ll be waiting for you.”

By now, all your friends are giving you pleading looks for you to stop, but you’re too annoyed to care. You’ll deal with his cocky ass when the time comes, but right now you’re focused on making sure Sakura’s okay.

Takiishi keeps his promises when he saunters to you on a swelteringly hot afternoon. He still wears the same black jacket from before. Even with the jacket on, you can tell he has a muscular build. The calculated steps he takes are intimidating, too. He wastes no time for words, quickly throwing you a powerful punch.

You’re able to dodge it, but you’re not so lucky with his next strike. A jab to your sides in the same spot that Endo bruised. Grimacing in pain, you take a few steps back, mentally cursing at your carelessness.

This asshole doesn’t pull his punches.

Within a few moments into the fight, you can already tell that he’s much stronger than you. His long hair and long clothes don’t seem to hinder his movements because he keeps launching strike after strike, each one more agile than before. After taking a few too many punches, you’re now racking your brains trying to come up with tactics to destroy this guy. Unlike your stoic father, you’re comfortable with trying every dirty trick in the book if it means guaranteeing your victory. Real life is different from competitions, after all.

“What a waste.” You spit out after taking a few steps back to catch your breath. “Got a pretty face, but your personality is shit.” He’s visibly surprised and you seize the moment to land a powerhouse kick, effectively sending him stumbling. Grinning at your small victory, you continue. “Stop this nonsense and maybe I’ll let you take me out on a date, how about that?” Once again, he stiffens up, and you land another kick.

He seems to have finally learned his lesson, now glaring at you and fixing his stance. You giggle at his little frustration. “Aww, don’t pout like that, sweetheart. Just say you think I’m pretty and move on.”

“You’re pretty.” He nonchalantly says, and it’s your turn to be surprised. He instantly tackles you down, locking you with a death grip.

Words can’t describe how angry you are at being beaten with your own tactic. You manage to struggle free from his death grip, but he is still sitting on top of you. Realizing that his face is a little bit too close, you decide to take a gamble…

… and crash your lips into his.

Oh, he’s definitely surprised now, his posture laxing. You flip him on his back, your positions now reversed. Even when you pull away, he still stares up at you, arms at his sides. You try to gather his arms and pin it so you can pummel his face, but he won’t budge. For a second you debated on kissing him again, seeing how effective it renders him immobile, but he moves quicker.

He loops an arm behind your neck, bringing your face down before capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His long hair splays under his head like a halo, his eyes surprisingly closed. You yelp and he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, both of you now fighting for dominance under the hot sun.

There’s an indecipherable tension when the two of you pull away. “You’re mine now.” Takiishi unexpectedly says first, his eyes never leaving yours.

You tilt your head in defiance, a smirk on your lips. “Am I?”

Takiishi quickly learns that even though there is an undeniable spark between the two of you, you’re not someone he can tame easily. After kissing him hotly on the mouth, you had kicked him again in the exact same spot as before, grinning and telling him that it was payback. He wakes up the next morning with a purple bruise.

He still doesn’t understand why on earth he ends up chasing you around in the hopes of kissing you again instead of fighting you, but all he knows is that he beat up Endo for talking shit about you and he feels ready to burn the world down when he sees Umemiya sling an arm around you. Or when Suo makes you laugh with his jokes. Or when you take a lollipop from Kaji. Or when you baby the damn brat, Sakura.

For some reason, your friends don’t really care about him showing up anymore. Perhaps you told them that he’s harmless around you now, he doesn’t really care. All he wants is to feel that dizzying feeling again. He watches you go about your day, stirring up trouble and beating up bad guys on the street, laughing and running with your friends. And at nights, after a fun day of hanging out, you stride to him with a ravenous look in your eyes, pulling him by his collar to give him his reward. 

Endo tells him that you’re just using him, but he doesn’t mind.

“You,” Takiishi growls in between kisses, “are mine.” His jacket is thrown away somewhere, leaving him with his turtleneck. Your hand shoots forward to caress his face, and despite the alarm bells ringing in his head, he finds himself leaning into your touch. The moonlight shines down, illuminating your face with an ethereal glow. He watches you breathlessly, admiring his work on your neck. Seeing his bite marks there only fuels his possessiveness as he captures both your wrists and pins them on top of your head.  Even without saying anything, you’re able to rile him up this much… and you look so unaffected. It’s hardly fair. 

He leans down again, hearing you giggle. “Am I?” 

He feels a prick of irritation at your brattiness. He uses his free hand to wrap it around your throat, and you resisted the urge to laugh. He barely squeezes. “Oh, you’re choking me-” Faking a pained moan, your eyes light up in amusement when he immediately loosens his already-loose grip, his eyes widening in shock. Oh, what a cutie.

“Then stop annoying me.”

“Huh? You’re so mean to me, how do you expect me to like you back, huh?” Once again, you used your best sad face. You don’t think you’re a very good actress, but you know what they say: love is blind— and Takiishi Chika is blindly in love.

There’s a conflicted look in Takiishi’s eyes and you giggle again, craning your neck upwards. His hand is still around your throat when you peck his cheek. “Just kidding.”

Oh, you are going to be death of him.

Takiishi knows that you like him too. You had to be, with the way you tease and act around him, the way you instantly go to him the second you finish practice, sometimes still in your gi as he rips it off from you to mark your body again. Takiishi is certain that you like him too, so why..? Why do you insist on making him jealous? 

He watches from a distance, body coiled up like a spring, ready to pounce at Umemiya freaking Hajime who has his arms around your waist, guiding you down to sit. Suo is telling another one of his shitty jokes again, making you laugh like an angel, while Sakura is glued to your side like a baby, blushing everytime your hand grazes his’. He watches each interaction, fuming, with a silent Endo by his side.

He knows he’s being irrational. He’s not even your boyfriend, and you were supposed to be enemies. He thinks. He doesn’t really understand anything anymore. What he knows is how much he wants to beat up your friends, and how much he holds it back because he knows you will hate him for it. He doesn’t want you to hate him. Anything but that.

Umemiya whispers something in your ear, before lifting up his gaze to meet his own mockingly. You follow Umemiya’s gaze and tilt your head at him teasingly, as if the hickey on your neck wasn’t given by him the night before. He feels his breath getting hotter as Endo shifts in his seat uncomfortably.

But he knows how much you hate it when he storms in front of your friends, so he stills himself. He’ll get his reward later. He can wait. He takes out his phone to type a warning to you. Not that you usually care.

You’re mine.

He watches a smirk curl on your lips as you type a short reply.

Am I?

Meanwhile, you shudder in your seat at how intently Takiishi is watching you, his gaze practically boring holes into you. You force yourself to shift your attention to your friends again, who thinks that you managed to beat him up and now he won’t dare to disturb you. They have no idea that Takiishi has been taking special care of you almost every night now. You’re not ready to sort and come to terms with your feelings right now, not when Takiishi himself hasn’t even manned up and asked you out.

So you lean back into Umemiya’s embrace, laughing with Sakura, Suo and Nirei, talking about underrated songs with Kaji and Hiragi, snapping photos with Kiryu. You decide to make the best of the moment, because you know that you won’t be able to walk by the time Takiishi is done with you tonight.

NOTES : It’s here! (aka part 2 of my ‘get more people to join the Takiishi Chika nation’ agenda). Thank you for the ask, anon! You have no idea how excited I am to write a badass reader. The reader is written as a karate practitioner because that’s the only martial art I have experience with. Gosh after rereading this you can tell that this piece of writing holds a special place in my heart. This is written with love y’all. Anyway I have my own headcanon that the Wind Breaker boys must train at a dojo or a center somewhere, because there are only so many bad guys they can beat up, right? How else are they gonna get those EXP?! (Also, if you get that Tekken Chinmi reference, I LOVE YOU FOREVER!!)

[nonotnolan]

Rush Week

You develop a special sort of bond with a guy when you've swapped bodies and you're touching each other's dick. It's the justification that Sigma Epsilon Chi gave for their partnership with Cuerpo Inc. during rush week, and I had to admit it makes sense. More to the point, Sig-Ep is THE frat to be in, so I knew I was going to do whatever it took to become a member, hazing be damned.

My face has never been much to look at-- my ears have always been huge, my hair is hopelessly curly, and I think my features are more rugged than handsome. I certainly don't have legacy money or family connections. I pledged with the hope that my muscles or my vibes would get me a ticket in, and I was so relieved to get that offer letter.

They said the house would swap bodies at random for the weekend, but I know that the machinery they use allows you to specify certain swaps and randomize others. I was convinced one of the upperclassmen will be taking my body while I ended up in some twig body for maximum embarrassment... and I wasn't wrong.

Henry is... he's a good guy, honestly. His parents are loaded and he can eat damn near anything and it doesn't affect his figure. I've never been fashion forward, so having access to his closet has been wild. The guy actually owns a sewing machine! He's also one of those guys who is never seen without product in his hair-- he actually left me instructions on how to take care of it. I can only imagine what he's gonna do in my low maintenance body-- all I own are tank tops and gym shirts. I'm half-expecting to come back to a new wardrobe and a manicure. But holy hell, the dude is thin and lanky in ways I didn't think was possible. I hope he enjoys having some actual meat on his bones.

The biggest thing is that Henry is gay. Which, you know, that's totally cool by me! More chicks for the rest of us. But once I was put into his body, seeing all of my fellow bros roaming around shirtless and feeling up their new muscles... I don't know how Henry can wear these skinny jeans all the time. I was rock-hard within minutes and it physically hurt to have my new eight inches constrained by denim. I almost feel guilty, giving him the shorter end of the stick.

I'm pretty sure Henry is an insatiable bottom, so all of that size seems wasted but... what can you do? Anyway, we're allowed to hook up this weekend as long as we use condoms and... when else am I gonna have this opportunity, you know? If I don't take this chance, I'm gonna be consumed by the 'what if's forever. Also the part where I'm horny as fuck in his body.

Lucky for me, whoever ended up in Joey's body was giving me the side-eye the whole time we were at the opening mixer, so I don't think it will take much effort to get my dick wet. His body has the type of smooth skin I've always envied, and I'm honestly jealous at how handsome his face looks. He's got a dirty blonde dye job that plays into his charm, and his muscles are... well, they might be bigger than mine. My real muscles, anyway.

"You wanna head upstairs to my room?" Joey asked, grabbing my bulge in his hand. He flashed a dazzling grin, and I could feel myself swooning from the confidence. God, I wanted him so bad. But Joey was just a Sophomore, which meant he still had one of the smaller bedrooms.

"My room," I said, shaking my head. A thought crossed my mind, and once again I figured I may as well follow the impulse. I threw my arms around Joey's neck and jumped into his arms. He stumbled a bit, but pretty soon his arms were hooked underneath my body to support my weight. So many of my friends back home did that all the time, and now I understood why they found it addicting. I leaned in close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath as I whispered into his ear, "I want you inside me."

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

"I really needed that," I said, putting some clothes back on after the most intense session of my life. "Can't say that I had ever imagined getting fucked by a man before, but, uhh... I enjoyed it, it was good. Hopefully that was good for you, too?" I could feel myself starting to blush. "I've never been a gay man before, but I think I got the hang of it there at the end."

"Bro, you were great, don't even worry about it," Joey said, resting a comforting hand on my shoulder. "But, uhh... what do you mean, you've never been a gay man before?"

I paused, trying to figure out whether or not he was messing with me. "I mean... I'm in Henry's body right now? It's me, Matty. I'm not actually gay. But, you know... when in Rome."

He just laughed at me. "Bro, that's not how it works. Attraction is all in the brain. Like... yeah, the real Henry is out and proud, but you being in his body doesn't make you gay. If you were into that, you've always been into dudes. You were just too afraid to admit it."

His face was all smiles, but his words felt like a punch to the gut. "Wait, but... I can't be gay, I've had girlfriends, I..." I tried to come up with some sort of defense, but nothing came to mind. I thought I was caught up in what other guys looked like because I was jealous. Was that just some warped form of attraction? "Are you sure the swap works like that?"

Joey wrapped me in a warm hug. "I'm sure. Sorry, bro. Didn't mean to give you a existential crisis. I thought you knew. You may not be gay, if it helps? You might be, like... Bi or Pan instead. And no one's gonna make you pick a label right away. Take your time, see what feels right."

He had a point. Being attracted to dudes wasn't limited to just gay men. And anyway, it's not like being gay would be a bad thing. I just... I didn't think it was me. "Hey, thanks bro," I said, hugging him back. "And... sorry if I sounded insulting. There's nothing wrong with being gay, I just didn't think... well, I'll definitely have to figure out my, uhh... my truth, I guess."

I started lowering my hands back down to his ass, and pretty soon we were making out again. "Hey, are you sure this is what you want?" Joey asked, pausing as I started to strip again. "Feels like you're moving fast, and I want to make sure you're not, like... pressured or whatever."

"Yeah, I'm sure," I replied, smiling at him. "You're the one who told me to see what feels right. That was my first time having sex with a dude, and it felt pretty good. So I think I'm gonna have sex with a guy for a second time. See what happens."

He smiled back, and I could feel myself melt. I don't know who's in Joey's body right now, but I hope it's someone hot. There's no way we aren't hooking up once we swap back.