#the neurotypicals are wild

[passiveagressivepoet]

i went to another libra’s 30th birthday party tonight: it was greek god themed… i got to talk about percy jackson and my hyperfixations and it wasn’t weird i LOVE

[the-bugcollector]

Note: even if I’m not talking about my hyperfixations, I AM thinking about them and ways to bring them up.

[alkemic-maeve]

marcille dunmeshi is botw zelda if zelda was neurotypical send tweet

[geoblitzz]

Something neurotypical people say that doesn’t actually mean anything:

“It’s always the last place you look!”

Um, yeah?? Because once you find it you stop looking??

[mad4turtles]

hello hello! first things first, i’d like to say i love all of your fics !! your way of writing fluff is so sweet !!

i also come with a fic req (no pressure, of course) !! i’d love to see a body swap fic in your style !! but only if that’s something you’d like to write. either way, i hope you take care of yourself before anything else and have a great day !!

Ooookay, I had both a field day AND a headache from this, because it's SUCH a good prompt that I'm tempted to make a part 2, but I don't know enough about a specific disorder that's a common headcanon in the fandom to do it confidently, so, for now, this will stay as a one-shot. I hope you like it, though!

---

Leo swears someone out there is out to get them. It's the only explanation he can think of as he stares at himself in the bathroom mirror.

Donnie's deadpan face stares back at him.

They'd all woken up like this. Different rooms, different bodies and different faces staring back at them on every reflective surface. Leo won't deny that he'd screamed the loudest, lamenting the loss of his beautiful face. Donnie, stuck in Leo's body (of course, why not?), had immediately blamed Leo for reasons the (former)slider cannot fathom. Probably because it's easier than blaming himself, again, with no grounds to speak of.

It had been hilarious watching Raph try to be the big brother in Mikey's little body. It was less fun to watch Mikey nearly cry after breaking everything he touched with unchecked strength and a body three sizes bigger. 

(Makes Leo wonder just how much Raph has been holding back on them. He thinks of the Kraang and quickly decides it doesn't matter.)

What matters is Leo getting back into his own body before Donnie decides to punch himself in the face. 

Draxum had laughed for thirty minutes when they called but eventually promised to have something of an explanation and a cure by the end of the day. Splinter and April weren't much better. Casey Jr, bless him, was torn between genuine concern and exhaustion—“How many 'shenanigans' can you get up to in less than three stories?!” “Stop breaking the freakin' wall!”—which, fair enough. 

Cassandra had looked at them once and demanded that 'Orange Raph' fight her. “I want to test my might against the future Mystic Warrior! With Raphael's nature, it is sure to be a battle of the ages!”

Spoiler alert: it was not. Leo thinks they're still tangled up in Mikey's chains in the rafters. He wonders if April's gotten them down yet.

In the meantime, Leo decides to... explore? Is that the right word? It sounds gross, considering the circumstances, but that's essentially what he's doing. He's lived with Donnie all their lives, and this is the closest he's ever been (or ever really wanted to be) to his twin. Plus, he's a different species of turtle now. It's so freaking wild, and he can't help himself. He's curious.

He pokes and prods in ways his touch-sensitive brother will never usually allow on a good day—he touches his face (so square, but dude, what a wicked jawline!), his arms (Donnie's always been a little broader than Leo, stronger than he lets on), pulls at his fingers (there are burns and scars on the pads from welding and training, a tooth-mark from when Leo bit him when they were three and a few more from before Don had curbed the habit with other stims), his legs (Donnie what the hell have you done to your knees? Did the Avatar take away your bending?!) and lastly—

His hand hovers over the rim of Donnie's shell.

The soft shell has often been a no-go zone. Except for emergencies (and Leo, because it's a scientific fact that sliders ride soft-shells like a skateboard, and Donnie makes the best pillow). But otherwise, touching the shell unprompted would earn them a hiss at best, and a bite at worst. Leo's body has scars to prove it. 

But since the invasion, Donnie has been... particular about his shell. Since being ripped out of the Technodrome after being subjected to actual sensory hell (Leo will never forgive himself for putting his twin through that, whether he knew or not). He barely lets anyone near it now, not even Leo, unless he whines hard enough for a cuddle. Even then, that's only after the nightmares.

He'd promised not to mess around, fun as it would be. With Raph, he might've done—a smashing spree in some condemned building sounded goddamn cathartic—and with Mikey, he'd probably dip his toe in the overflowing pool of mystic energy in his baby brother's core, maybe learn a thing or two. 

But Donnie is different. And for the first time ever, he truly, truly, understands.

He leaves the shell alone and leaves the bathroom. He'll mess with his eyebrows instead.

~0o0~

“Nardo, I require assistance!”

Oh, thank god, something to do. Leo rolls off the beanbag, stretching until bones crack, yawing wide. Donnie had said not to mess around, but he said nothing against naps, and god did Donnie need one. “'s still so friggin' weird hearing my voice talkin' with your dead-ass tone, Dee,” he calls sleepily, lumbering towards the lab. Three hours was too long and yet not enough.

“It is about as jarring as hearing my voice using dumb slang and quoting Vines and seeing my own body wearing your skirts,” Donnie calls back, with Leo's voice, and yep, it's still freaking weird. About as weird as entering the lab to see him surrounded by tech, fingers flying and hands reaching with confidence as though he were born with it. 

Watching his body handle Donnie's machines so efficiently makes Leo's skin itch. Or maybe that's Donnie's body having a natural, visceral reaction to seeing anyone touch his shit. Which is fair, really. Leo got pissed seeing Donnie in his clothes in the mirror, ready to complain about the battle shell stretching his favourite sweater, only to remember. This whole thing sucks.

“So,” Leo drags the word out, plodding over to where Le—Donnie is sitting in the organized chaos of what looks to be another battle shell. “Whatcha need, Don-tron? Dearest twin? Brother whom I love very much and would be nothing without his incredible one-liners, his charm and wit, his beautiful—”

“Just because you're saying things with my voice doesn't make any of those statements true,” Donnie mutters, sliding the goggles off his face and climbing unsteadily to his feet. Must be disorienting since Leo is not only half a foot shorter than Don but carries a slightly heavier shell. He turns to Leo, hands fluttering at his sides—

“Shit, what did I do?” Leo yelps, hopping back a step.

“What? Nothing, nothing's wrong, why're you—?”

“Your—my—you got the flutters, my guy. Sending me a lot of mixed signals, and my—your body is telling me to react by biting, and I cannot stress enough how much I don't want that.”

“Wha—oh.” Donnie clenches his hands into fists. “I'm—I'm not angry with you, Leo, it's just—this whole situation is frustrating. I can't find an answer, Draxum hasn't shown up yet, I'm not in my own freaking body, and you—your body is so different, like, your head is clearer than mine and yet just as cluttered and messy, and I can touch and smell and eat things that I couldn't before because you're not as sensitive to it, but I also can't stand up straight without tripping over my own feet because of the differences in height and weight, and I'm constantly reaching for my battle shell only it's not there because I technically don't need it for the first time in my life and now I'm doing that—thing that you do where you ramble yourself into circles when you're upset because I'm working myself up because this is different I don't like different and oh look at that my hands are flapping am I about to take off? I do not know? I need—god, Leo, I need—”

Leo watches his eyes well up with tears, hands flapping as Donnie tries to articulate his needs. Needs he doesn't normally have in his own body because of his aversions. Donnie doesn't need touch all the time. Leo does, almost constantly, as much as Mikey does. The lack of it can drive him up the goddamn wall, which is why he always bugs his brothers, or Dad, or whoever's closest that wouldn't mind being used as a climbing frame or a pillow for a few minutes.

God, this must be hell on Donnie. Much like trying to put make-up on or wrap himself up in his favourite blanket had been actual torture for Leo. 

(Just like the thought of hugging makes Leo's—Donnie's skin crawl uncomfortably. Leo kind of wants to cry, too.)

But he swallows it down like he does every other bad thing and spreads his arms. Donnie looks up with Leo's teary eyes and stares. Leo smiles. “C'mon, big brother,” he says. He means it, but he also just wanted to hear Donnie say it.

Donnie twists his face into something half grateful and irritated and throws himself at Leo, squeezing tight enough to hurt even with Donnie's battle shell. Leo feels a shudder run through him—no no no no no get off get off get off nope nope nope do not TOUCH me—and forces his arms to wrap around Donnie's shoulders, squeezing back. 

Donnie sighs, breath hitching. “Oh my god,” he says, “I have never, in my life, needed this much physical contact. Oh my god. I think I actually get you, Nardo. And Mikey, too, I guess. All this because I needed a hug. Jeezy heckin' creezy, how do you live like this?”

Leo swallows hard. “Same way you live like everything burns when you don't want anyone touching you,” he says. There's a lump in his throat, suddenly, when it hits him. “... yet you do it anyway.”

Donnie nuzzles Leo's shoulder, seeking warmth and attention the way Leo has always done—needed to—and sending more sparks through Leo's—Donnie's—system. “... well, yeah,” he says. “I knew how bad it could get for you, but... I guess I never got how bad it could feel. And besides, you guys are usually great telling when I'm open for a cuddle or when I will literally kill you on sight if you touch me, so... wait, are you—?”

“I am on freaking fire, Donnie—”

“Oh my freaking god, let go then, you idiot, that is my body's way of telling me I'm about to have a meltdown—!” 

“But you need—need a hug—”

“Then I'll go to Raph or Mikey—whichever isn't still hanging from the ceiling, just let go! You are literally seconds from crashing, come on, I'll give you my special stuff from my special closet. Christ on a bike, Leon, you're as stressed as I am, a nap won't fix it, and an unwanted hug certainly won't—”

“Don, 's too loud—!”

“Shit, shit, sorry—here, put on my headphones and take the fluffy duck. This looks like it's gonna be a bad one, so get your—my ass in the closet. Get my whole ass in there, yep, good boy, get all nice and cosy, wow you ramble a lot when you're stressed out—”

“Hisssss—“

“Holy shit that's actually scary from a different perspective, I'll shut up now. You know the drill; I'll come to check on you after an hour. I'll grab the others for a turtle pile afterwards, I'm usually in the mood for that after a bad one, but—yeah, I'll go now, love you, don't bite or hit yourself, I'm gonna go glomp Mikey in Raph's body for a spine-breaking hug.”

Donnie shuts the closet door, and the darkness, surrounded by all of Donnie's 'special sensory things', is an instant relief.

Screw the T.V. tropes, Leo thinks as he breathes through fat tears and hiccuping sobs, rocking back and forth and squeezing the fluffy duck plush to quell the urge to hit himself. Body swaps suck. 

---

Reblogs are appreciated :3

Feel free to send me more prompts! <3

[i3utterflyeffect]

every time i see that dungeon meshi guy he's doing something even more autistic than the last time i saw him

[morayofsunshine]

pls don't go on reddit for ur hyperfixation needs

even if you've read the whole tumblr tag again

don't do it

[kordbot]

the one moral that comes out of to the moon is 'never marry a neurotypical'

[protosstar]

said "i wanna start getting into rubiks cubes" out of nowhere and after a beat my flatmate's gf just responds with "i think my mother is autistic"

[timeandspacelord]

Do neurotypicals not do the thing where they're like "this is where the inspiring montage to speed me to the next major plot point and avoid the drudgery of day-to-day life would go" about real life?

[cumulohimbus]

Well Katy, to tell you the truth, I would be a lot closer to doing amazing if there weren't any unauthorized ants in my apartment. Also if you had communicated with me about my maintenance request literally any of the previous 8 days during which you have been in possession of the knowledge that there are unauthorized ants in my apartment.

[toastsnaffler]

parkour got me like yippeeee !!

[melodic-haze]

Wuwa is so fun for me bc they'll mention like a musical term and my one singular braincell would activate and I'd jump around giggling bc "OMG I KNOW WHAT THAT WORD MEANS!!!!" "OMG MUSIC MENTION!!!!!!"

I didn't even realise wuwa had musical terms at first until I stopped zoning out and paid attention to the terminology and the way I jumped out of my seat in excitement is actually embarrassing 😭😭😭😭

[unearthlydream]

goddddddddddddd today was long. so why can’t I sleeeeeeep !!!!!!!!!!

[vxnted]

my friend was talking about how she hasn’t had a good year since 2022 and my other friend was like - a whole year ?!!! really ??? how is that possible ? and i was like. you’re so wholesome please never lose that. i wish i couldn’t relate to having a year of misery.

[mrskreideprinz]

i fear that i will not make it out of this family vacation alive 💔 /j/lh