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sinofwriting · 8 months

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lover - Oscar Piastri

Words: 2,958 Summary: Press and fans find out during the Australian GP that Oscar isn’t single, in fact he is married. The more troubling part is the rest of the grid finding that out as well. Note(s)/Warning(s): Some drivers aren’t portrayed greatly in this, not because I don’t love them, but because they're a bit dumb and stupid. Some interesting thoughts about Lando and Max and Mclaren and Red Bull. Some angst. Logan is protective of Oscar and Oscar’s wife (his self proclaimed little sister). Slight NSFW at the end. Once again stating that I love all the drivers mentioned and written in this fic. (If anyone is interested in knowing more about my thoughts on the whole Lando, Mclaren, Max, Red Bull thing, send me an ask.)

Taglist | Masterlist | Patreon | lover verse

“Hey, Apples.” Oscar greets when he picks up the phone. “Os,” He frowns, stopping in his steps, ignoring how Lando is trying to wave him over for something. “What’s wrong?” She sighs, “You know how I said I wouldn’t get lost?” He breathes a sigh of relief that it's nothing serious, smiling again. “Lando’s trying to get my attention for something, but I’ll text Logan to get you. That okay?” “Yeah. I’ve missed our American boy.” Oscar scoffs, “you’ve missed him. I’ve had to deal with him.” She laughs, “Uh huh. I’ll let you go, but have fun talking to Lando. I’ll see you later, Os.” “Later, Apples.”

Ending the call, he quickly messages Logan. The message brief and he’s not surprised when the American driver sends back quickly a simple thumbs up.

“What’s up, Lando?” He asks, when he finally gets close enough to his teammate. “You’re married?” Oscar blinks at the British driver. This is what Lando had been waving him over for? Something he already knew. “Yeah. Have been.” His eyebrows press together. “Are you alright? Hit your head or something?” “No!” Lando shrieks, making him jump back. “You’re married. When did that happen?”

His shriek and loud words catch a few other drivers' attention and before Oscar can process it, he has Charles, George, Checo, Mick, and Lance also surrounding him, asking him if he’s really married.

The repeated question has him blinking widely, wondering if there’s something in the air that’s making them all have memory loss.

“Yes, I’m married. Why are you guys acting like this is new news?” “Non.” Charles says, eyes wide. “You can’t be married. You are a baby. Younger than Arthur.” He rolls his eyes at the words. “Fuck off, mate. I’m not a baby.” Charles pouts. “But you are so young to be married.” Oscar’s nose wrinkles at the words, lips pressing together. “Right.” He nods, holding back what he wants to say. “I don't know what to tell you guys. I’m married and I thought you guys knew.” George scoffs, “none of us had any idea. And twitter is going crazy, mate.” “What do you mean twitter? I’ve been married since I was eighteen. This isn’t a new thing.” “Eighteen!” Oscar nearly throws his hands in the air. “How did not one of you know? It’s public knowledge. Like all marriages.” He doesn’t mention the fact that he has definitely mentioned his wife in infront of all the drivers, they all obviously had trouble listening. Lando flushes, “I mean, you don’t really talk about yourself. So, I guess it just never got brought up?” He offers, though it feels a little weak and Lando can’t help but wonder if Oscar had mentioned it but he had just thought that it was a joke or had been tuning him out because it wasn’t team or race related.

“Late congratulations then Oscar. She is here, no?” Checo says. Oscar smiles at the older driver. It had felt odd that he had joined the rest of them, but it was clear he had joined because of the mention of another driver having a wife. They were few and far between. “Yeah, first race weekend this season.” “Give her my congratulations as well.” “I will.” He tells the older driver, watching as he leaves before turning his attention back to the other five.

“I’m private, but I’m not that private, you guys.” He says, and before one of them can say anything an American voice is speaking up from behind him. “Private about what?”

Logan eyes the five drivers surrounding Oscar, nearly cornering him. The girl next to him breath catches a little at the sight and he squeezes her a bit closer before dropping his arm from around her shoulder.

“Everything alright?” He asks, no one having answered his previous question. Oscar turns his head to throw him a grateful look before completely turning around seeing the girl beside him, a smile blooming across his face. “Logan find you okay?” He can see from the corner of his eye, her nod shyly, fidgeting under the stares of five complete strangers and Logan gives the girl he considers a little sister a light push to Oscar. Knowing that they’ll both feel better with some contact.

Logan turns his head to face her when she gives a light tug to his shirt and he easily tilts his head a little downwards to receive the kiss on the cheek she gives as silent thanks, trying not to smirk at the wide eyed looks the other drivers are giving him. He turns his head back to face them, when she joins Oscar, the youngest driver on the grid, easily wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close, though keeping her slightly tucked behind him.

“No one knew I was married.” Oscar tells him, answering his question from before. Logan’s eyebrows furrow. “What? It’s public knowledge.” He shrugs, “twitter is apparently going nuts. No one knew.” He then nods his head towards the five drivers in front of them. “Including other drivers.” He scoffs, “that’s a joke right?” None of them say anything and Logan can feel a simmer of anger starting in his gut. “Seriously. I’ve heard him mention her when all the drivers were around. Mark made a joke at the first race about him being married.”

No one of them say anything to that and Logan can feel his eyes narrow seeing Lando and George exchange a quick look.

It wasn’t necessarily surprising to hear that people on twitter were freaking out about it. It wasn’t something that first came up when you searched Oscar Piastri. But for not one of the drivers to know? Especially after hearing Oscar mention her? Mark make a joke about it? It rubbed him the wrong way.

He wondered if it was because when they all did a quick google on Oscar nothing about him being married came up. A combination of money buying a little privacy, though not enough to bury or hide a public marriage, and how private Oscar was as a person. He didn’t like talking about himself, was a little hard to make friends with unless effort was really put in or you were around him often enough. He also doubted that any of the drivers had really tried to get to know him due to the whole McLaren thing and the Alpine drama of last year. They only knew so much about Logan because everything was online about him, a problem with too much money, and he was willing to play into the whole about himself American persona.

It also makes him wonder if Oscar had been lying when he said that Lando and him were getting along. It was still early days, but for Lando not to know that Oscar was married? It spelled something that Logan didn’t like and the thought of Max not being the only teammate killer crosses his mind before he can stop it and he shakes his head. It was far too early for that and unfair to both Max and Lando. They weren’t the true issues or at least at the moment in Logan’s eyes Max wasn’t, their teams were.

Logan shakes his head at the silence from the other drivers still. He didn’t know what to say. Other than he wanted to tell them all to get their ears fucking checked. But he holds his tongue.

“Well now you guys know.” He tells them after another moment of silence. “This is Y/N, Oscar’s wife. And you already know all these guys.” She nods, giving them a small wave that Lance and Mick return before quickly walking away with quiet apologies. “You are a baby as well.” Charles says, eyes widening right after, clearly not having meant to say that. She looks at Oscar and then Logan. “I thought you guys said that Arthur was worse than him.” Logan laughs at the way Charles looks offended, mouth open in shock. “Charles has his moments.” Feeling a slight tug to his hoodie, Oscar gives a nod to his teammate and the other two drivers. “We have to get going. Talk to you tomorrow.” He tells them, before stepping away, knowing that Logan is following just barely not on their heels.

Logan and her both hang outside of the McLaren headquarters for the weekend, waiting for Oscar to come back from a quick talk with his race engineer.

“Lando.” She begins and she can feel Logan’s full attention on her. “Do I need to worry?” “Everyone likes him. He’s likable.” He tells her, trying to ignore what she’s getting at. Doesn’t want to think about the thought that popped into his head barely fifteen minutes ago. “Logan,” Her voice is a little harsh. “Do I need to worry about Oscar being teammates with him? We all saw what happened with Daniel at least with what the media said. And I’m grateful that McLaren gave Oscar one of his dreams. But do I need to worry that they will ruin him for Lando?” He can’t make his eyes meet hers, can’t when he can’t give her a sure answer. “I don’t know. Lando to McLaren is like Charles to Ferrari nearly, just not as predestined, I guess.” The words are sour sounding. “He still has good relationships with Daniel and Carlos.” “Max is called a teammate killer and he’s got a great relationship with Daniel. A fair one with Alex according to your texts. And we all know that it’s not him, but Red Bull that’s the killer.” He can’t help but glance around despite their whispers, wincing as she repeats his thought from earlier of Lando being perceived as a teammate killer. This really wasn’t the place to have this conversation, but he understood her need for some sort of answer. “I don’t know.” He repeats. “It’s still early. I want to say that McLaren will be fair to Oscar and treat him well, won’t treat him like a second class driver, but after them breaking a contract with Daniel.” He swallows harshly. “I don’t know.” And he hates that.

Getting into Formula 1, getting the chance that nearly all drivers dreamed of but only some got was supposed to be fun. Sure there was always going to be pressure and stress, but no one had warned him about the politics of it all.

“Okay,” she tells him, wrapping her arms around him in a hug and he can’t help but rest his head on her shoulder. Letting her bear his weight for a moment. “It’ll be okay Logan. And thank you.” “Of course.” He mumbles. And suddenly there’s another set of arms wrapping around him and her. He only doesn’t move or lift his head because he knows those arms and there’s an Australian accent in his ears.

“You alright, Logan?” He lifts his head to nod, not wanting to hurt her. “Yeah, just stress.” He squeezes them both a little tighter. “Can say that again.” Logan smirks, beginning to open his mouth but then a finger is poking between his ribs and he’s jumping out of the hug, rubbing at the spot with a pout. “Hey!” She shakes her head at him, pressing closer to Oscar as he presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Don’t get cheeky. You still coming to dinner with us?” Logan scoffs, “Of course. I’m not missing out on seeing Nicole and Chris.” “My parents will be there as well.” Logan throws his hands in the air, starting to walk backwards. “Why are we still here then?”

“Still missed him?” Oscar asks her as they start to follow him. She laughs at the dry but teasing tone. “Of course. He’s a great older brother.” “He is, isn’t he?” He has a put on suffering face, but there’s a fondness in his eyes as he looks ahead to where Logan is. “He is.”

“Is everything alright?” He asks, slowing their pace a bit more. She hesitates. “We’ll talk about it after dinner, but it should be.” His brows furrow at the response and he can’t help but squeeze her closer. “Are you okay?” “I’m all good, Os. Just worrying.” “Promise?” “Promise.”

—

“You’re worried.” He brings up nearly five hours later as they soak in the bath together, her back to his chest, his fingers interlaced, hands resting on her stomach and her hands resting on top of his. He can feel her breathing stutter and his heart clenches inside of his chest at the reaction. She had always been a bit of a worrier. He wasn’t exactly sure where she got it from, no siblings to inherit the trait from and her parents were fairly laid back. But this seemed different, more serious. “I had some thoughts about McLaren. I needed to talk to Logan about them. He had some of the same ones.” “Like?” She pauses, lips pressing together for a moment. “McLaren gave you your dream.” “One of my dreams.” He corrects her, picking up her left hand and pressing a kiss to her ring finger. Her wedding band and ring sitting on the bathroom counter instead of being where they belong. “One of your dreams.” She corrects. “They clearly favor Lando.” His hand and hers settling back where they were. “Lando’s an experienced driver, Apples.” he lets out a small laugh. “It’s only my first season. I’m a rookie.” “Oscar,” she turns slightly to look at him. “Daniel was a more experienced driver. He even got them their first win in how many years and look what they did to him?” He winces at the reminder. It would always slightly haunt him that the only reason he had a seat at McLaren is because they tossed Daniel like trash practically. Didn’t sit right with him and suddenly the solemness on her and Logan’s faces earlier made sense. “You two think they’ll do the same to me?” “I think that as long as Lando gives them some sort of positive result he’ll always be their number one. Even if you perform better.” He swallows at the words, because fuck it was looking like that wasn’t it?

Lando was a great driver, amazing, Oscar was thrilled to get to be his teammate and learn from him. But Daniel had pulled results from the McLaren, even if he hadn’t gotten as much as Lando did from it last season. It made no sense to get rid of an experienced driver or push him aside for a younger driver that would have years more left on the grid. And as he sits thinking about it, he’s reminded of how much last season McLaren put Lando first over Daniel, despite Daniel having a better chance or opportunity. Remembers some of the races he attended seeing Daniel’s frustrated, tired face as he got out of the car.

“You think Lando’s going to get called a teammate killer?” He knew her mind, knew it wasn’t a far stretch considering how Carlos was perceived at Ferrari and how Daniel wasn’t even racing this season. “I think that if people are willing to call Max one when Red Bull is clearly the problem, it’s a miracle that he hasn’t been called it already.” “Fuck.” He whispers, dropping his head to rest it on her shoulder. “I’m sorry.” She whispers and he lifts his head back up. “Don’t. We’re a team. This would have driven you mad keeping it to yourself.” It was a lot, but he was thankful it was being brought up now. Gave him more time. And god he’d have to bring it up with Mark. He could only imagine that the man would want to talk to her. Mark had always appreciated her thoughts and knew that they were a team. He didn’t just bring things to him, but to her as well.

“Charles doesn’t like me, I think.” Oscar can’t help but laugh. The tension that had filled the bathroom, leaving. “You did say that he was worse than Arthur.” “In that moment he was.” She defends and he presses a kiss to her cheek, still laughing. “Once he gets over being told he’s worse than Arthur, he’ll like you just fine.” “Think so?” “Know so.” He corrects. “Not many people dislike you, Apples.” “But you like me best.” She says, smiling. “Like you best and love you best. Love you so much.” He murmurs before pressing a series of kisses to her cheek making her giggle and then squealing when he manhandles her until she’s facing him, straddling him.

“Hi, Apples.” She beams at him and he can’t help but swallow at the brightness of her eyes. “Hi, Os.” “You ready for bed?” She lets out a little hum, wiggling her hips and his hands grasp at her waist, the lust that had started to simmer inside of him when he had turned her around growing at the pressure against his dick. “You have a race tomorrow.” “Is that a no?” “We haven’t had sex during a race weekend in over a year now. Don’t want you to be tired tomorrow.” “I’ll be alright.” He tells her, pressing her down a bit and can see the way her eyes dilate at the feeling of him growing hard underneath her. “Might even make me place higher.” “Well, only if you think it’ll make you place higher.” She teases and he can’t help but lean forward and kiss her.

She sighs into it, pressing closer to him, chests touching as he bites gently at her lip. “I’ve missed you.” She breathes when they separate, her eyes on the slight flushed face of her husband. “I’ve missed you too.”

---

Tagging: @ireadthensuetheauthors @copper-boom @lpab @gemofthenight @peachiicherries

#oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x reader #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #how did i write this in like two hours #what is my brain #lover verse

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just-jordie-things · 11 months

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[part three] to build a home - gojo satoru

word count: 3.6k warnings: !!manga spoilers!! swearing, jjk-verse style fighting series summary: when (y/n) (y/l/n) catches wind that the notorious sorcerer killer, toji fushiguro, has children, she makes it her personal mission to find them. the catch being she couldn't tell a soul about them- the risk of the zen'in clan learning about them was too great. keeping the secret isn't the hard part, it's lying to her friends, shoko ieiri, geto suguru, and of course gojo satoru, that she struggles with. especially when satoru has suddenly become so keen on keeping an eye on her lately.

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[part three] : "Learning To Lie"

___

“I never thought I’d see the Gojo Satoru get soft,” Shoko’s giggling as she took a drag of her cigarette. Her shoulders shake and her eyes close as she beams at the thought. “It’s only a matter of time now until you dye that stupid hair too, huh?” She suggests, blowing out the smoke in her lungs.

Suguru’s head is thrown back in laughter, happily partaking in the tease-fest.

“I think black would be cooler. Like mine” He says.

Shoko coos and hums in agreement, looking back at Gojo as if to picture a new look in her mind.

“I’m not coloring my hair, idiots,” He mutters, turning away from them and waving a dismissive hand. “I look perfect”

Suguru snorts at how humble his best friend was.

“So you admit you’ve grown a little soft spot for our resident (y/n)?” He asks, a muse in his tone as he shares a look with Shoko.

“We’ve always been friends. I don’t know why you’re having a giggle parade over us hanging out. I hang out with you guys all the time, you think I’m in love with you?”

Shoko purses her lips, passing her cigarette to Suguru.

“Yes,” She says, decidedly. “But I think you like (y/n) better”

Satoru has to fight the urge to defend himself too much, because he knows if he argues with them too much, their suspicions will only be raised tenfold.

“She’s definitely better company than you two right now” He grumbles, leaning back against the wall.

He wasn’t even a smoker, but when Shoko and Suguru would head off for a cigarette break, more often than not he’d follow. Sometimes (y/n) would be here. And when she was, he could focus his attention on messing with her. Otherwise when it was just these two, they ganged up against him.

Speaking of-

“Where is (y/n) anyways?” Satoru asks.

Shoko and Suguru share another suggestive look, chuckling to themselves. Satoru wasn’t sure when they took such entertainment in meddling with his love life, but it was starting to irritate him. All the looks, and the giggling, it was going to drive him crazy.

“She said something about having to go to a bookstore in town,” Shoko said. “Sounded boring”

“Miss your little training buddy already?” Suguru asks.

“She went to town by herself?” Satoru frowned.

“Relax, she literally just needed a book,” Shoko says, taking her cigarette back from Suguru. “I think she’s capable of a little errand”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He sighs. “It’s just weird that she’d go alone. We all had the day free”

“Then go hang out with her if you want” Shoko suggests.

“Yeah, then we can talk about you guys” Suguru pipes up.

They’re laughing amongst themselves again, and Satoru thinks it’s not such a bad idea. Kicking off the wall, he raises his hand in a peace sign and leaves without a word.

He can still hear their childish giggles as he walks away. ___

Breaking into the elementary school once it had closed and the staff had left for the day had been easy enough. In fact, it was probably the easiest part of her whole investigation, which was odd since it was the first actual crime (y/n) had committed.

Not that commiting said crime fazed her too much. She was doing this for the greater good after all.

The tricky part was finding what she was looking for. The filing cabinets in the administrator’s office took up an entire wall, so finding two student’s information was going to take a minute.

She raised her phone’s flashlight and quickly began to read the labels on each cabinet.

Payroll. Emergency Contacts. Lunch Schedules. Event Budgeting.

And then finally, Student Files.

With a grin, she quickly pulled open the first drawer with this label, and went flipping through the alphabetized files.

Just as she found where F was filed, her phone buzzed.

She nearly dropped it from the surprise, before she quickly silenced her ringtone, cursing whoever needed to call her right now. Didn’t they know she was trying not to get caught literally breaking and entering?

Well, no, no one did. Maybe she should have turned her phone to silent before she broke in.

Seeing that it was Satoru calling, she knew better than to decline, so with a sigh, she answered, pressing her phone between her shoulder and her ear.

“Hey!” He greeted her happily. “What’re you up to?”

She told Shoko she was shopping today. So she had to stick to her story and tell him the same thing.

“I’m in town, what’s up?” She replied, keeping it short.

“Nothing. Want company? Suguru and Shoko are being annoying and I kind of feel like avoiding them,” He tells her.

Her heart feels warm that he wanted to spend time with her, but she bites her lip and tries to find a reason why he couldn’t come see her.

“We could grab lunch. Or if you’ve already eaten we can get ice cream. Either way my treat”

(y/n) smiles to herself.

“That’s sweet, Satoru, but,” She hesitates, eyes wandering through the files in front of her. “I already ate, and I’m still looking for that pair of headphones I saw online,”

It’s quiet for a minute on his end, and she hopes she hasn’t hurt his feelings.

“But thank you for thinking of me. We can hang out tomorrow, or something, if you have time”

“Sure,” He replies, but his voice sounds off. Almost rigid. “Bye”

With that, he hangs up on her. (y/n) frowns as she pulls her phone from her ear, seeing the call end and her lock screen wallpaper light up. She can only hope that he isn’t too upset.

She drops the thought quickly, and goes back to thumbing through the file folders.

It’s a matter of seconds before she finds what she’s looking for. Fushiguro.

She snatches the file, her face split in a grin. Victory!

With great haste she flipped through every page, snapping a photo of each one. Once finished, she carefully placed everything back where she found it, slid out the window she’d so craftily unlocked when she’d broken in, closed it behind her, and left the scene.

If committing crime really was that easy, she wonders why more people don’t do it.

Maybe she’d keep that thought to herself.

As she casually slipped herself into the crowd of people, eyes glued to her phone as she studied the photos of the files she’d just stolen, she completely missed a familiar figure approaching.

“(y/n)?”

Her eyes darted up, face paling slightly, surprised that anyone had recognized her.

And there was Haibara Yu, with that infamous cheery smile and a wave as he approached her. He was in street clothes, and a small bag was held at his side.

“Yu!” Her voice came out a little louder than intended from her surprise. She cleared her throat, and hoped that he didn’t find her acting strange. “What’re you up to today?”

“Just needed to get a gift for my sister,” He said, holding up the shopping bag in his hand. “Her birthday is next weekend”

“Sweet of you,” (y/n) smiled at the gesture. “Tell her I said happy birthday”

Yu nods, and she knows that despite having never met his sister- who probably didn’t know who she was- that he would relay the message. He was a good guy like that, always putting people’s happiness first. (y/n) admired that about the second year.

“So, what are you up to?” He asks.

She knows the question isn’t meant to be interrogative, that he’s genuinely curious about her day. (y/n) bristles nonetheless.

“Just some shopping” She shrugs, trying to be as casual as she could, so as not to raise any suspicion.

Although now that she thinks about it, and sees his kind smile as he talks to her, she thinks that she could never make him suspicious of her. Yu was a grade younger than her, so it wasn’t often that they crossed paths. Only in the halls of Jujutsu Tech, or if they happened to be working out at the same time. But Yu had always made a point to talk to her, to befriend her and treat her well. She’d found it endearing, how his kindness poured out of him, even when he was running late and Kento would be pulling him by the collar of his shirt, dragging him away, he’d always bid her goodbye with the well wish of having a good day.

Thinking about it now, (y/n) wondered if he had a little crush on her, or if he was always that pleasant with everyone. She smiles warmly at the thought, either way.

“Well, uh, do you want any company?” The dark haired boy asks, his hand raising to the back of his neck nervously. “I’m all wrapped up, I don’t mind joining you, if- if you want”

For a brief moment- so fleeting the thought left as soon as it presented itself- she wondered if Gojo had sent him. After their strange phone call, she couldn’t help but notice Yu had asked the same question as Satoru after all.

She brushed off the paranoid idea quickly. Yu was too kind to be sent as a spy. Besides, she hadn’t been so shady in her excuses to Satoru to result in him sending an informer her way, she was certain.

“You’re too kind,” (y/n) flashed a dazzling smile. “But I’m just about wrapped up myself, I was just going to get something, uh, a bit private, if you don’t mind,” She feigns bashfulness as she averts her eyes after telling him her errand.

Yu’s face drops and his ears turn a light shade of pink, and (y/n) mentally applauds herself for having succeeded in making him believe her little lie.

“Oh- oh, right, of course,” The boy stammered. “Will you be long? I could wait for you, so you don’t have to walk back alone”

“That’s alright, it’s my last stop,” (y/n) says, waving a dismissive hand in front of her. “No need to worry about me”

Yu nods, tucking his hands into his pockets as he lowers his gaze, hiding the disappointment in his features.

“If you insist,” He says. “I know your friends would be upset with me if I didn’t even offer,”

You’re probably right, (y/n) thinks as she chuckles quietly.

“And I don’t need Gojo beating me up for leaving you out here alone”

“He wouldn’t do such a thing,” (y/n) says with certainty. “I’m not a stranger to Tokyo. And I can handle myself just fine,”

She begins to pass by him, patting his shoulder in a friendly manner as she does.

“Have a safe walk back” She tells him.

“Yeah. You too” Yu smiles, giving her a small wave as he walks off in the direction he was heading before he’d run into her.

(y/n) checks over her shoulder a few moments later, just to be sure that he was going back to the school, and he wasn’t following her. Her eyes scan the small crowd of people wandering the sidewalks and peeking into shops. When she doesn’t see the familiar student, her mind is at ease, and she goes back to her phone.

With the address of Megumi and Tsumiki Fushiguro’s home displayed before her, she follows her map. ___

“I saw (y/n) while I was in town” Yu mentions, picking at the box of food before him.

Kento, sat across from him at the table they shared, looked up from his own meal. This wasn’t a casual mention. It never was when he talked about (y/n). It was almost getting tiring, hearing his friend go into that dreamy voice as he shares the most meaningless interaction he’d had with the third year girl.

“That so?” He replied anyway. Might as well get it over with.

“Yeah,” Yu hummed in delight, the smile on his face was glued there. “She was shopping”

So interesting, Kento thinks bitterly, but he doesn’t dare say it out loud. Yu’s crush on the older sorcerer might have been a bit far-fetched, but he was a good friend, so if he wanted to gush about her, he’d listen.

“Surprised you didn’t stay in town with her,” Kento says instead. “Seemed like a good opportunity for one-on-one time, hm?”

“I know. I offered,” Yu sighs. “But she was- uh- kinda busy” He chuckles nervously.

Kento raises a brow, silently asking what that was all about. Yu rubs the nape of his neck.

“She said she was shopping for something private” He confesses.

Kento hums, finally turning his attention back to his lunch.

“Whatever that means”

“I didn’t ask,” Yu shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t want to overstep”

It’s quiet for a minute as the pair nibble on their food. Yu’s mind was buzzing with thoughts of the girl he’d run into, how pretty she looked in her street clothes, how kindly she spoke and smiled. His eyes glazed over as he got lost in his thoughts. He almost didn’t hear the footsteps of a third year approaching the table.

“Hey, you gonna pass out?”

Yu blinked until his vision of reality was restored, looking up to see Gojo Satoru leaning over the table, overly-invading both Yu’s and Kento’s personal space as he grinned at the daydreaming boy.

“He’s fine,” Kento muttered, leaning back from the table a bit to put some distance between him and the overbearing Six Eyes user. “He’s just daydreaming about (y/n)”

Behind his sunglasses, Satoru blinks, his eyes twitching in the slightest. But the ridiculous grin he wore didn’t falter as he continued to stare down the younger boy.

(Had Yu seen the jealous look in the eyes of Gojo Satoru himself, he probably would have pissed his pants)

“That so?” Satoru asks. His voice was steady, almost too steady, and Yu swallows nervously, nodding his head. “Didn’t know you had a little crush on our little hex”

Curiously, Nanami eyes the way Gojo keeps his expression and demeanor remain perfectly rigid. He’d barely moved a muscle, even as he spoke, he did so through that psychotic grin. It was easy to see through this act. He wondered if Yu thought the same.

“I- I dunno if I’d call it a- a crush,” Yu stammers. “I was j-just telling Nanami that I’d run into her earlier”

That made Gojo drop the false grin on his face, his brows suddenly furrowing. Suddenly, he leaned back, out of the younger sorcerer’s personal space.

“Just now?” He asked.

Yu nodded his head in an anxious fashion, too nervous to open his mouth. Nanami had said enough on his behalf to make the white haired sorcerer all too interested in their conversation.

“In town?” Satoru clarified.

Yu nodded again.

“Y-yeah,” He stumbled over his words. “She was shopping”

I know that. Satoru’s teeth grind together to keep him from spitting out an attitude he doesn’t mean.

“Ah, Yu,” He shook his head, chuckling.

His demeanor had returned to it’s usual teasing presentation, but Yu’s anxiety remained on high alert. This whole interaction was making his stomach churn, like he’d done something wrong and he hoped Gojo wouldn’t find out. Although, he’s not very sure what mistake he had made.

“Couldn’t have been a gentleman and walked my girl home for me?”

Finally, Yu’s brain caught up with where Nanami’s was. This wasn’t anger, he realized. This was jealousy.

That was much, much worse.

Yu feared for his life.

“I- I didn’t- she was- I wasn’t trying to-”

“Mhm, of course,” Gojo nods, and reaches out to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder. Yu shuts his mouth instantly, his eyes wide as saucers as he stares directly at him. “Don’t worry, I’m just pulling your leg a little” Gojo chuckles.

Yu huffs out a nervous laugh himself, trying to catch his breath and slow down his rapidly beating heart.

Nanami continues to sit in silence, watching the whole display with the eyes of a hawk.

“Okay,” Yu breathes out once he’s calmed down a little inside. “She just had something private to shop for, I was trying to be, ya’know, considerate”

The twitch in Satoru’s eye was starting to get annoying. Private? He latched onto the word. First she tells Shoko she’s book shopping. Then gives him some bullshit excuse about headphones. And now Yu is here telling him a third thing that didn’t match up in his head. His finger began to tap against Yu’s shoulder, before he pulled his hand off, shoving it into his pocket.

“Of course you were, you little gentleman,” He pulls out his teasing tone. “But do me a favor, Haibara?”

“Sure?”

Before he can say anything, Geto Suguru enters the room, calling Gojo’s attention. The man turns away from Yu for a moment, holding his finger up to his friend, and then turning back to the younger sorcerer.

“Next time,” He says in a chipper tone that seemed like anything but. “Try to do the right thing, and walk her home, yeah?”

He was sure to lower his shades so that his eyes could pierce right through Yu’s soul.

Yu chokes on air, nodding his head at an aggressive speed.

“Of course. I will. I’m sorry”

Gojo claps his hand on his shoulder one more time.

“Have a good lunch, guys!” He gives the pair a friendly wave before heading back over to Suguru.

Yu’s jaw drops as he finally looks over to Nanami, fear deep in his eyes.

“Why would you tell him that?” He squeaked out. “I thought he was going to kill me!”

Nanami shrugged, taking a bite of his food, chewing thoughtfully.

“How was I to know he had a thing for her?” He muttered.

Suguru had only seen a little bit of Satoru’s interaction with the second years, but he’d seen enough to know something was up.

As they walked out of the dining hall, he supposed he could indulge in a little drama.

“So, what was that about?” He mused, an eager smile on his lips. “Not like you to threaten a kid like Haibara”

“I wasn’t threatening him” Satoru brushed off the comment, adjusting his sunglasses to sit properly on his nose.

“Could’ve fooled me”

“You see (y/n) at all today?” Satoru changed the subject.

Suguru raised a brow, although his friend was ignoring his look.

“No” He replied.

The white haired sorcerer let out a huff.

“That what this is about? (y/n)?”

Satoru doesn’t say anything.

“So it is,” Suguru grins. “What is it this time? She take a liking to Haibara?”

“He saw her in town” Gojo finally gives him something to work with, but Suguru raises his brows, surprised that his little display of dominance was over something so mundane.

“Yes, well. Other people who have eyes will probably look at her,” Suguru remarks.

Satoru looks over at him with a dull glare behind his shades.

“Don’t you think you probably scared poor Haibara over nothing?”

“He said she told him she was shopping. For something private”

This explanation does nothing to give Suguru an understanding on why his friend was acting more unhinged than usual.

“You think maybe it’s time to take a break from all these missions you’ve been accepting?” He asks, half-sarcastically. “I think your head’s gettin’ a little messed up”

“She told Shoko that she was shopping for a book,” Satoru ignores the comment. “And when I called her, she told me she was shopping for headphones. Something she saw online, I guess,”

Suguru doesn’t say anything this time. He still thinks Satoru might be overreacting a bit, but clearly, he was having a full on episode over this.

“And then I find Yu, who says she was shopping for something private, and that was why she didn’t want him joining her”

His brows are furrowed in a knot as he processes all the information he’d just shared with Suguru. It was all so strange. (y/n) wasn’t one to lie, mostly because she wasn’t very good at it. But her shady behavior today puzzled him greatly.

“Satoru,” Suguru stops in his tracks, turning to look at his friend directly. “(y/n) isn’t a liar. She sucks at it”

“Yeah, I know-”

“So do you think, maybe, she was out shopping for all of those things?” He suggests, like it’s some genius idea he’d just had. “And maybe she just wanted a little alone time? Maybe she didn’t want Haibara’s company, and that’s why she sent him away?”

“I mean, maybe, but-”

“You’re overworking your head. It’s not good for you,” Suguru chuckles. “I’m surprised it hasn’t popped right off yet”

Satoru rolls his eyes dramatically.

“I didn’t know it was a crime to be worried about a friend-”

“You’re worried about her because you’re jealous that Yu has a massive crush on her” Suguru barks out a laugh.

“You knew that?”

“Everyone knows that,” Suguru replies. “But if you’re so worried, if (y/n) returned his affections, don’t you think she would’ve done something about it by now?” He suggested. “Exactly,” He spoke again before Satoru could begrudgingly agree. “They’re just friends. So don’t go around scaring the under-classmen because you got a little jealous. It’s not a good look on you”

“Everything’s a good look on me,” Satoru cheekily clicks his tongue. “And I’m not jealous of a second year”

Suguru scoffs in disbelief, shaking his head as he turns to continue their walk.

The bastard was jealous of anyone who looked at (y/n) in any way. Yu was lucky to have his life. ___

taglist: @whats-humanity-lol@malinq-ashida@mor-pheus@bekahtaylorgriggs@pookiea@megumimind @thealchemical @pearlstiare @niallerhere @96jnie @purpleguk

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xoxo - jordie

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madixkiwi · 11 months

Text

Pressure (Chapter 3)

Miguel O'Hara x Reader (fem)

Word Count: 2.8k

Description: Miguel and Y/N are in an established relationship. As the events of "Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse" gradually unfold, conflict arises between the couple. Miguel is a complicated man with the fate of the multiverse riding on his shoulders. Y/N is a Spider-Society technician with a big heart and strong morals.

______________________________________________________________

“Yo, this place is wild!” Miles said as he took in the incredible sight before him. Y/N couldn’t help but smile as she watched him look around in awe, approaching the dock he and his friends arrived in with brisk steps. Jess waved at Y/N and led the others towards her.

“Hey, guys, what have you all been up to?” Y/N asked once she was close enough to the group.

“Nothin’ much,” Hobie answered.

“Oh, you know…” Gwen laughed awkwardly, avoiding a conversation about what happened in Pavitr’s universe a few minutes ago.

Jess glanced at Y/N with a knowing look. “It’s a long story, you’ll hear all about it soon enough.”

“Oh, alright,” Y/N chuckled and faced the new kid. “Hi, new guy! What’s your name?”

“Uh, Miles,” he responded.

“Alright, Miles, I’m Y/N,” the group stopped walking forward when they reached the end of the dock. Y/N gestured to the expanse of the building that was crawling with other Spider-People. “Welcome to Spider-Society!”

Miles’ jaw dropped. Thousands of Spiders occupied the floors, walls, and ceiling; it was truly a sight to behold.

“Come on, guys. Miguel wants to see you,” Jess began walking in step with Y/N, who nodded in agreement with her friend.

“It’s actually my job to take you to him. Follow me, everyone.” It wasn’t very often that Y/N had the opportunity to walk through the magnificent building, for she and Margo were always cooped up in the control room. Almost every face was familiar to her, and she received a plethora of greetings from everyone she passed.

As the small group walked together, Miles began to glitch out. Jess stopped in her tracks and rolled her eyes, fishing for a wristband in her pocket. “Here,” she said, tossing the band in Miles’ direction. He caught it with ease.

“Woah, my own watch!” He gasped.

“It’s a day pass,” Y/N clarified.

“It’ll keep you from-” Jess was cut off by the sound of Miles glitching again. He slid his band onto his wrist and the glitching stopped. “-doing that.”

They ran into Peter Parkedcar shortly after that, and Jess instructed him to deal with a “spot mess”.

“I wouldn't call it a mess, more like a success in progress,” Miles suggested.

Y/N looked at Jess for some elaboration. “What are you guys talking about?”

“You mean Miguel hasn’t told you?” Jess seemed genuinely surprised.

“Nope, nothing.”

Jess almost told Y/N everything, but she got distracted upon seeing Ben Reilly in the hallway. “One sec, Y/N. Ben, I need-”

“Sorry, I can’t talk right now,” Ben began dramatically. “I’m thinking about my past.”

“Actually, we need you here for some reason.”

Ben groaned and threw himself onto the nearest structure. Jess and Y/N remained unphased by the action, but the kids behind them were a little thrown off. The group continued their walk across HQ, and Lyla joined them when they made it to the room containing all of the captured anomalies. Y/N tried coaxing any information out of Jess that she could, but something always prevented her from telling the full story.

Y/N said “hi” to Margo and let her take on the role of explaining the Go Home Machine to Miles. “Jess, please, I’m dying here,” she pleaded with her friend.

Jess looked at Lyla, and they shared a look that Y/N couldn’t read properly. “Look, Y/N, you know I love you.”

“Yeahhh?”

“Which is why it’s been so hard to keep this from you. But Miguel specifically said not to tell you about this.”

Y/N’s expression dropped. “Oh, so Miguel put you up to this. He doesn’t want me to know what’s going on?”

“Y/N, come on-”

“Hey, don’t worry. I know it’s not your fault… It’s just frustrating.”

“I can only imagine.” Jess’ sympathy was written all over her face.

The conversation concluded when Miles, Hobie, and Gwen started walking back towards the grown ups. Lyla disappeared for a second and then came back with a smirk on her face. “Miguel sounds hungry,” she declared.

“He likes those empanadas from the cafeteria,” Jess added.

Normally, Y/N would have specified the details of Miguel’s food order, but the thought of him stung too much to dwell on. She clenched her jaw and stared at the floor as the group made a detour to order an empanada, a sort of peace offering for Miles to give Miguel.

Meanwhile, Miguel watched all of them from one of his monitors, paying close attention to Y/N’s behavior. He frowned before collecting a vile of the solution that gave him his powers, inserting it into a unique syringe and injecting himself with the green liquid. Videos of the life he shared with his daughter flashed on the other screens surrounding him, reminding him of the past and worsening his mood. The life he desperately wanted for himself taunted him with its unattainability; although, he would have never met Y/N if that universe never collapsed.

***

The door to his room opened abruptly. Miguel started moving his platform downwards towards the floor. He knew that Hobie, Miles and Gwen stood waiting for him in the doorway. He didn’t expect Y/N to be standing next to them, though, protecting the kids from the full extent of his temper. Jess had sent her in with them to act as a cushion.

“Te traje una empanada,” Miles held up the food he had picked up for Miguel from the cafeteria.

Miguel shot his webs at the container, slinging the box directly into his hand. “Que maravilla,” he responded. His voice was emotionless. He looked over at Y/N for a split second, taking note of the sadness in her expression.

“Listen,” Miles continued. “I’m really excited to get going-”

“Oh, great.”

“I have some fresh new ideas on how to catch the Spot.” Y/N’s interest was piqued when the “spot” was brought up.

Miguel didn’t allow his demeanor to falter, but he internally panicked when Miles mentioned the secret that he had kept hidden from Y/N. He knew Y/N would inevitably find out about everything, and she was going to kill him for hiding it from her. Miguel took out his anger regarding the predicament on Miles, throwing a table at his head. Even though his spider senses allowed for him to dodge the projectile, it was still a low blow in Y/N’s opinion. “He’s worried about Spot,” Miguel mumbled. Then his voice grew increasingly louder. “I’ll worry about Spot!”

“What did I do?”

“Miguel!” Y/N yelled at him disapprovingly.

Gwen stood in front of Miles. “It’s not his fault.”

“You blew another hole in the multiverse!” Miguel snarled.

“He doesn’t know any better!”

Y/N jumped in to support Gwen. “Calm down, Miguel! He’s just a kid!”

“Stay out of this,” Miguel snapped. Y/N felt shivers run down her spine. He had never spoken to her like that before. Something about the red glow in his eyes and the venom in his voice scared her.

Miguel turned back to Gwen. “You knew better, Gwen. And you-” He turned to address Hobie, who couldn’t have cared less about what Miguel was saying. “I was gonna try to ignore you, but I just can’t.”

Miles looked from Gwen, to Y/N, to Hobie, to Miguel. “What’s happening?” He asked.

“Hey, Miguel, go easy on the kid. He had a terrible teacher,” Peter B’s voice entered the conversation like a saving grace. Y/N whipped around in excitement; Peter was one of her closest friends, and she absolutely adored his daughter.

“Peter?”

“Peter-”

“Peter!”

“Oh boy, humbling reality Spider-Man has arrived.”

Miles ran up to his mentor and gave him a hug.

“Don’t be afraid of my friend Miguel,” Peter began. “He just looks scary, he’s got no bite.”

“You sure about that?” Y/N questioned playfully.

Peter’s grin grew wider when he saw her. “Hey, there’s my favorite normie!”

Miguel turned his back to the group, jealous of Y/N’s enthusiasm for Peter. “Peter,” He spat under his breath.

“Wow, everyone’s here, this is great!”

“Hey, Peter, what’s that?” Miles pointed at the vacant baby carrier that was strapped over Peter’s shoulders. Mayday’s joyous screams answered Miles’ inquiry. She swung through the room with her webs, climbing on the walls in true Peter B. Parker fashion.

“You have a baby?” Miles watched as she happily explored the room. Peter chased after her, and Miguel rubbed his forehead in annoyance. He mumbled incoherent sounds to himself in an attempt to remain collected. His moment was interrupted by Mayday climbing onto his shoulders. Peter swung next to Miguel and showed him some of her baby pictures.

“I’m trying to hold a serious adult conversation,” Miguel dismissed Peter’s antics.

“You know, you’re the only Spider-Man that isn’t funny. We’re supposed to be funny,” Peter reminded him.

“The fate of the multiverse-”

“You always lose me with that. You say, ‘The fate of the multiverse,’ and my brain dies.”

Mayday fell into Miguel’s arms, and he handed her off to her father.

Miguel took a deep breath and returned to the original topic of conversation. “Miles, you disrupted a canon event.” Y/N noticed that the bags under his eyes were darker than usual.

“Canon event?” Miles repeated.

Peter chimed back in, “The kid wasn’t thinking. That’s not how he works.”

Miles frowned. “That’s insulting. Wait,” he faced Miguel. “What are you so upset about? I saved those people.”

Miguel jumped down from his platform. “And that’s the problem. Lyla, do the thing.”

Lyla appeared next to him. “Huh, what thing?” She teased.

“What do you mean ‘what thing’? The information explainy thing.”

“Okay,” she agreed.

Suddenly the entire room was covered in a holographic projection. Miguel looked over at Y/N once more, but she was too busy admiring Lyla’s work to notice. Miguel then went on to explain how the multiverse worked to Miles. He covered the importance of canon events, and he detailed why Miles’ shouldn’t have saved inspector Singh’s life back in Pavitr’s universe. According to Miguel, Pavitr’s dimension was currently unraveling, and it was Miles’ fault.

“That’s what happens when you break the canon,” Miguel stated.

“How do you know?” Miles’ question caused Miguel to pause. Y/N stared at him, concerned about how he would react to such a sensitive subject.

Miguel looked at Miles with a somber expression. “Because I broke it once myself.” He went on to detail the truth that he happened to learn about the hard way. Lyla replayed the footage of Miguel’s last moments with his daughter. He was frantically trying to run away from the destruction that chased him as the little girl clung to his suit. She eventually glitched into nothingness while Miguel helplessly watched. Y/N almost started crying when she saw Miguel’s reaction to the loss of his child. She looked over at her partner and noticed that he wasn’t watching the replay.

“You break enough canon and save enough captains, and we could lose everything,” Miguel told Miles.

Miles took a moment to process Miguel’s words. “My dad is about to be captain,” he said. Suddenly he began to stagger and pull on his hair. “Spot does it… he kills him. When does it happen?”

Miguel avoided Miles’ gaze.

“When does it happen?” He demanded.

“In two days. When he’s sworn in.” Miguel claims.

Lyla popped up next to Miguel for support. “That’s what the model says.”

“I’m sorry Miles.”

Miles’ breathing is staggered. “Send me home.”

Miguel sighs. “I can’t do that. Not now.”

“What am I supposed to do? Just let him die?”

Miguel gives him a look that says, “That’s exactly what you’re supposed to do.”

Miles turns around and faces Gwen. “What about your dad? He’s a captain, right?”

“Yeah,” is all Gwen responds with.

“And that’s it? You just aren’t going to do anything about it?” The whole room is silent. “Okay, what about Uncle Ben? Would that have been okay if you knew and you just let it play out?”

Peter reached out and rested a hand on Miles’ arm. “If not for Uncle Ben, most of us wouldn’t be here, Miles. And all the good we did, it wouldn’t have been done.”

“So we’re just supposed to let people die because some algorithm says that that’s supposed to happen? You realize how messed up that sounds, right?”

Y/N understood where Miles was coming from. Suddenly, every piece of information that had been deliberately hidden from her was fitting together like matching puzzle pieces. The Spot was the anomaly that Miguel was concerned about, and Miles had somehow gotten entangled in his mess. They ended up in Pavitr’s universe, where Miles disrupted the canon. Y/N was well aware of how the canon worked, and she knew it was unfair. It had been cruel to every Spider-Person.

Currently, she was on Miles’ side. No one could realistically expect him to let his father die when his death could easily be prevented. The containment teams didn’t always manage to save unraveling dimensions, but sometimes they did. If it were up to her, then every Spider in the building would work hard at finding a way to save Miles’ father and his universe. Unfortunately, Miguel was the one who called the shots, and he was inherently narrow minded.

“You have a choice between saving one person and saving an entire world- every world.” Miguel said.

Miles shook his head. “I can do both! Spider-Man always-”

“Not always.” Peter looked heartbroken as hundreds of Spiders gathered around the group. They all came to support Miguel, and to remind Miles that he wasn’t alone.

“Miles,” Miguel continued. “We all want to live the life we wished we had. Believe me, I’ve tried. And the harder I tried, the more damage I did.” His eyes finally met with Y/N’s again. They briefly shared an expression of immense grief. ”Being Spider-Man is a sacrifice. That’s the job. That’s what you signed up for.”

Miles looked around at the people that surrounded him. “What is this?” His voice trembled. “Is this an intervention or something? You can’t ask me not to save my father.”

“I’m not asking.” Miguel slid a device on the floor that imprisoned Miles in a projection of red light.

“Miguel!” Y/N had had enough of standing in the background. She ran over to Miguel and grabbed his arm. “Let him go, Miguel. He’s too young to understand!” She didn’t really believe that, but she wanted Miguel to let him off easy.

“Stop it!” Gwen yelled. Peter tried persuading Miguel to let Miles go as well.

Miguel closed his eyes. “If we let him leave, then he’ll only do more damage. You all know that.”

“This can’t be the only way,” Y/N concluded. She tugged at Miguel’s arm desperately. “Don’t do this, Miguel, he’s a child. Please, don’t do this.”

He ignored Y/N’s pleas. “I just need to hold you for a few days,” he told Miles.

Hobie looked at Y/N from across the room, and then he looked at Miles. He started walking over to him, and Y/N had an idea of what he was planning. “Don’t ignore me!” She tried her best to distract Miguel. “That’s all you ever do nowadays. You don’t even care about me anymore, do you?”

Y/N hadn’t intended to say something so harsh, but it managed to successfully distract Miguel for a moment. “Is that what you really think?” The hurt in his voice was extremely apparent. Y/N instantly regretted what she said. She moved her hands from his arm to cover her mouth.

“Miguel, I-” A wave of electricity swept across the room with a static jolt. Miguel instinctively grabbed Y/N and pulled her towards him, shielding her with his body. When everyone looked back towards the center of the room, they saw Miles free from the containment chamber. Without wasting any time Miles bolted out the door. Miguel immediately chased after him, leaping forward with intensity. He left Y/N behind without a second thought, leaving her on the cold floor. All of the other people in the room began to chase after Miles as well.

A few moments later, Y/N heard Miguel’s voice over the overhead speakers again. “All stations, stop what you’re doing and stop Spider-Man.” Confused conversation buzzed throughout the building. “Ay, coño, Miles! Miles Morales! He’s entering sector 4!”

Y/N picked herself up and rushed over towards the control room. If Miles wanted to go home, then he would have to use the Go Home Machine. As she ran through the empty halls, she silently hoped that Miles would make it back where he belonged, and she prayed that Miguel would forgive her for what she said.

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mirrored-movements · 10 months

Text

A Rock and a Hard Place

(Miguel O'Hara x reader)

Synopsis: You'd always consider yourself an older sibling to the younger spider-folk, often taking them under your wing despite Miguel's distaste for it (Something you ignored knowing he'd have to just tolerate it) So what happens when you meet Miles and everything you'd looked at from behind rose-tinted glasses changes?

Warnings: SPOILERS FOR ACROSS THE SPIDER-VERSE- YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED (Also plot change- sue me if you don't like it IG)

Since joining the Spider society you’ve accomplished three things:

One, taking anyone younger than you under your wing and practically acted as an older sibling to them. Two, established yourself as one of the higher ranking spider-people - Surprisingly enough, and three, somehow making it onto Miguel's good side- the man shockingly enough taking a liking to you despite the rambunctious and loud nature you had.

He was a grouchy man from what you could tell, stiff and nearly the equivalent to a locked box- however with enough prying and enough unannounced visits you found him beginning- albeit perhaps a bit reluctantly- warming up to you.

“You’re a pest (Y/N), you know that?” Letting out a deep sigh from where he stood Miguel casted his gaze back at where you sat, suit-clad feet resting up on one of the consoles while a screen hovering in front of you.

Some strange sitcom that you and Lyla had begun watching was playing across the screen.

Folding your arms over one another your gaze moved to meet his own, a playful hint to your expression. “Well if I’m a pest then why don’t you just kick me out?”

Starring at you for a good second he simply grumbled a few choice words, head shaking as you’d scrunched up your face in success.

You and Miguel were in some sort of unspoken relationship it seemed, neither wanted to say anything but also enjoying one another's presence to the extent that either of you would miss the other when they were gone on a mission.

“Whatever.” Rolling his eyes he huffed in annoyance, however the faintest of smiles quirked across his lips.

Moving to resume watching your show with Lyla the soft ping of your watch halted you from doing so, the edges of your lips fully quirking up at the series of messages sent from one of your ‘children’ as you’d like to refer to them.

Seeing you pop up and out of your chair he couldn’t help but let out a sigh. “Where are you going now?”

“Just going to check on the youngsters.” At the mention of that you could see Miguel roll his eyes, however, the man didn’t do anything to stop you merely just casting you a look that said ‘Stay out of trouble.’

Not that that was something you could easily do.

---

Honestly, you only meant to check in on Gwen and Pavitr, the latter of the two having sent you a quick message about the new guy who’d dropped in as well as the appearance of Hobi- much to your confusion. But upon arriving you were quickly met with- a mess.

“What even- what is that?!” Your feet skidded across the cement, the eyelets of your mask widening as you turned around to address the four standing behind you; almost as though the hole would somehow leap out and drag them in.

“Well, I said it was a metaphor for capitalism.” Stuffing his hands into his pockets Hobi mused out, his tall frame coming to peak into the void down below. “Poetic innit?”

You rolled your eyes at that, holding back a laugh knowing that the situation should be taken seriously. “I came here to say hello to the ‘new guy’ not deal with-” Looking down at the gaping hole you finished. “A black hole.”

“Sorry but mi-” “New guy? That’s me!” The slim form occupying the space beside Gwen piped in right away, the kid almost instantly hopping over to shake your hand despite you not offering it. “Miles Moralis, or Spiderman- but I mean Spiderman of my world of course but were not there right now obviously- so just call me Miles.”

Leaning to the side a bit in order to spare Gwen a look, your attention returned to Miles, eyes partially closing and hand returning the handshake. “Nice to meet you Miles, you seem like a good kid.” At the slight praise, he visibly perked up. “(Y/N) is the name.”

You already liked the kid.

Slumping a little as an arm was thrown over your shoulder Hobi leaned his weight onto you, other hand motioning towards where you stood. “(Y/N) is like our big siblin, we can get away with anythin- well almost anythin.” Using his hand to cover part of his mouth as though he were telling a secret he added on. “They’re a little cushy with the big man though so-”

“Ok ok enough of that,” Cutting Hobi off and shaking off his arm you let out a mix between a huff and a laugh. “It’s nice to meet you though.” It was your turn to cover part of your mouth, “Gwen talks a lot about you.”

“Hey-” “Sorry not sorry!”

There was some more quick conversation between the three of you, Pavitr coming to join soon after inquiring on how his world would be- to which despite not knowing what had happened or who they were facing- you decided to reassure him.

Something that Jess did as well when her and a few others arrived in order to assess the damage and whatnot.

She seemed a little displeased with your presence however waved it off and gave you the brief instructions to bring the others; Hobi, Miles, and Gwen, back to HQ.

“The big boss- what’s he like?” Coming to walk beside you Miles spoke, hand fiddling with the day pass he’d been given in order not to glitch out.

“Scary-” “Kinda like a dictator a little.”

You gave Gwen and Hobi a look at their comments, the two hushing right after upon knowing how you and the man they spoke of were.

“He’s straightforward,” You began casting a quick look towards Gwen, “maybe a little scary,” Your eyes then moved back ahead. “But he had what’s best for all of us in mind.” Since entering HQ You’d taken off your mask, deciding now yo flash Miles a reassuring smile. “He has a kind heart and I trust in his decision.”

Taking your words to mind he nodded his head, a question popping into his brain quickly. “Uh are you and you know this boss uh-” “They're fuck buddies, respectfully.”

“Hobi!” Nearly hissing his name you flashed him a glare, finger pointing accusingly his way before your attention quickly returned to Miles opting to correct what was said. “Miguel and I aren’t fuck buddies- Just close, I mean I’d like to say we’re close.”

“That's why I’m saying you’ll be fine.”

---

Boy did you feel like a liar.

With the way Miles stared at you in disbelief- you might as well have traveled into his world to kill his dad yourself.

You had no clue this was the course of things, no clue of the pent-up anger and resentment held for the boy you’d just met, and you certainly had no clue he was going to contain Miles to a cage- basically.

Now, you just stood back, stunned at what was going on and stunned at the way Miguel handled the situation.

“Miguel, this- this isn't right.” Raising a hand you moved to place it on the man's arm, his attention flickering over to you. The angered and irritated look he had when addressing Miles softened only a bit as he spoke.

“This is what needs to happen. For his sake. For your sake. For all of us.”

Your heart fell at this, Miles’s banging against the containment shields growing more frantic until it stopped- a wave of electricity firing from the device or rather from Miles rendering it deactivated.

The shockwave had sent everyone tumbling to the floor, the first one to act being Miguel who’d lurched forward clawing at the ground in order to move quicker.

Your eyes met Peters from across the floor, a torn look being shared between you two- however, unlike you, he’d gotten up right away following after the herd.

Sucking in a few breaths trying to make a decision you’d slipped on your own mask, webs firing from your wrists in quick succession.

Your mind was made up.

You’re helping the kid go home.”

---

“Miguel!” Finally finding yourself catching up enough to call out you swung from side to side in order to avoid the traffic within the highway to the moon, body right away swinging full throttle into the man having caught him while he’d been pinning Miles. “This is wrong! What’s wrong with you?”

Recovering quickly from being tackled he stared back at you, a glare clearly shining through his mask as clawed hands gripped the vehicle you’d swung into. “This has to be done (Y/N)! You can’t change what is already written.” Despite not wanting to engage in a fight he let out an irritated breath, hand roughly gripping your shoulder intending to move once he’d noted Miles recovering.

“He’s just a kid!”

“He’s an anomaly!” Having enough Miguel shot his own web forward, the force of it dragging himself and by default you away from the vehicle you’d dragged him into, “He shouldn’t exist in the first place!” Shouting the last part he shot another web forward intending on continuing his pursuit.

“That’s not for you to decide!” Following suit and firing your own web you caught up quickly, heart hammering within your chest as you’d begun trying to deter him. “You preach for justice but is this really is?!”

“Stop interfering (Y/N)!”

Coming to swing at his side once more he caught your leg using your momentum to toss you back. “Just stay down!”

“I can’t!”

The (F/C) strings of your webs came back, splatters of them sticking to Miguel's mask, inevitably leading him to backtrack for a moment- the surprise on your face must’ve been evident as you hadn’t expected to be football tackled and pinned to the side of the tunnel. Miguel’s angered frame towered over you, the front of his mask deactivating for a second as he spoke, ruby hues boreing through your mask.

“It’s me, or him (Y/N).”

Biting your tongue at the statement you watched his jaw tighten, gaze hardening at the lack of response.

Without much else to say he’d raised a hand, neon webs right away stucking your limbs down despite the protests that left your lips.

“Miguel wait-” “We’ll talk when I get back.”

Rising back up he casted you one last look, something that was almost disappointment before bolting off.

To say you were stuck between a rock and a hard place was an understatement.

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

Little but rushed tbh bc the exact plot of ATSP is escaping my brain at the moment <3

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kit-williams · 3 months

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Barn Anon. Tried my best but honestly? I'm not sure if I like how this one flows. Maybe it's because i've been staring at it for a few hours. Adding on to how you said they're prickly to others, I feel that maybe the Custodes would also be a bit of a human repellant to anyone that isn't their human.

You watch from the safety of your house as your golden companion effortlessly fights the feral fallen Blood Angel that had wandered too close to your house. Perhaps you should be afraid for your golden companion but you knew with a surety that you cannot describe that your golden companion would win.

You honestly don't remember when was the first time you met your golden companion, only that it wasn't long after that he followed you home after school. Once he knew where you lived things were set in stone. You never found an issue with his presence, even eventually coming around to calling him Odysseus. You blame your younger self's love of greek and roman mythology. He himself seemed happy enough with the name.

Creaking of wood followed by a loud crash and you peek out the window again. He had thrown the Blood Angel at a tree and broke the tree as a result. He's toying with the Blood Angel you realize, it makes sense you suppose, when was the last time you remembered him having someone or something he can let loose on? When he pulls the Blood Angel up, you offhandedly note the size difference between Odysseus and the Blood Angel. You never noticed until now that he's taller than normal Space Marines, or how he's stronger too.

Was this why your parents were so relieved when you asked to move out? Your parents weren't exactly comfortable with Space Marines but they weren't against them either. That didn't mean you never noticed that they were very unsettled when Odysseus first followed you home. Not that it bothered you. They were so nearly desperate for you to move out that they actually bought this house for you and Odysseus in the mountains.

A loud wet crunch sounds out. you look out to see Odysseus watching the Blood Angel limp away. The Blood Angel's clearly severely wounded and you have no doubt that he wouldn't live much longer. Odysseus' golden armour gleams under the sunlight, you rush down to the first floor to meet him. He was by the garden hose by the time you're down. A gentle order from him to sit at the bench while he washes off the blood and muck. You watch as the water turns a muddy red, handing him a scrub to get rid of the more stubborn bits of dirt on his armor. He laughs when you mention that you like seeing him win, he has a weird human though it's only right that a Custodes has a human that's not like the others isn't it?

They are certainly a human repellant

Probably won't do too many Custodes in the Space Marine Husbandry (YEAH THEY'RE SHOWING UP IN YANDERE) just like kinda how I've more or less decided against adding other human factions (I know I said there might be admech around but that's when I was still going back and forth) and lets be honest probably not gonna mess with Xeno races... I might play around with what its like owning tyranids but onto what you wrote.

You were jealous of how the relationship between others with their space marine went. You learned that Odysseus was of the Adeptus Custodes. He decided to talk to you suddenly and you learned he could talk! He did so when you talked to him when you were feeling so lonely and just begging for another voice to talk back you didn't care if you couldn't understand him you just were going mad with loneliness.

It felt more like you were owned by your Custodes verses the other way around and what Odysseus had said to you on the subject wasn't rather helpful. This Emperor was the only one who "owned" him so whoever that guy was owned your big guy... and he refused to say if that meant he owned you. He would just rustle your hair and chuckle warmly at you.

Getting food was a hassle as he carried you to the grocery store because no way in hell is he going to let you drive alone or let you leave him at home. Lucky for you with him by your side trips to and from town were rather quick even if you were buying stuff at the local level and no longer really able to drive to the Costco because there were too many Astartes there and the fact that he didn't like you driving without him.

Your poor car sat mostly unused you might have to get a heavy duty vehicle or see if there was a jetbike for him to use so you didn't have to be carried everywhere. He

#barn anon #Tales from the Barn #space marine husbandry #Space Marine Husbandry Sentience #adeptus custodes #warhammer 40k

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a-kookie-with-my-tae · 17 days

Text

Befallen: Chapter 3

Pairing: Idol!Jungkook x Music Producer!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2.5K

Warnings: none, really.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for your patience with me. I'm so happy to finally getting this out after having to completely rewrite this chapter from scratch. Bear with me as I try to get these chapters out as soon as I can. Thank you!

Masterlist

Aesthete: a person who has or affects to have a special appreciation of art and beauty.

I tap my pen against the wooden desk as I focus on the sheets in front of me. The words written on the page are a little sloppy, their connotation that of a newcomer to lyricism. But, the meaning in them shows through no matter the novice technique in which their written. I cross out a line and rewrite the words, not changing the meaning behind them but allowing the line to blend harmoniously with the rest of the verse.

Jimin stopped by the studio first thing before practice, the notebook sitting on the floor from where he slid it under the door before rushing to meet the other members. I smiled when I saw it. I should've known better than to expect anything other than the fact that he would stay up writing. After our conversation yesterday, he seemed too inspired to do anything but that.

I will admit, although the wording isn't as eloquent as an experienced lyricist, Jimin's handwriting is that of a scholar. Next to his, my hangul looks like chicken scratch, something a kindergartner would write. Then again, I am newer to writing in the language, still stumbling when I even speak it. But, I have improved drastically in the half year past. His writing is more like the Korean version of cursive, his hands used to the language from years of experience as his letters blend together beautifully. While I am mainly writing the English version, as it's my first language, he decided that he wanted to take the lead with the Korean version. When he proposed the idea, I visibly sighed in relief. Usually when writing for the other artists in the company, some of the other producers tend to take the lead on the lyrics since I am a novice when it comes to the Korean language, but versed enough to help Jimin with editing his.

My heart breaks a little at the words on the page. His fear of losing those close to him shows through as I read them. His sad, almost desperate, connotation bleed through the pages even through his crossed lines as he rewrote the lyrics over and over. I can't wait to show him what I've done with it, the song already playing through my head in a constant loop. I can already imagine how great it will sound with his soft and breathy vocals.

A knock on the door brings my out of my little bubble. I turn toward the entrance of my studio, curious to see who could be here. Jimin's practice isn't set to be finished for another hour or so.

But, nevertheless, it is still him that stands in the doorway.

"What are you doing here so early?" I ask, curious as to how he is here at the moment. He's never been known to cut practice of any kind, if anything he stays later working past when everyone else leaves.

"Let's just say.... there was some tension. So, Joon-hyung decided to end it early today." He says with a slight smirk on his face. I don't know how, but for some reason I feel as if I'm the reason for the so-called tension that he speaks of.

"Do I even want to know?" I cross my arms and lean back in my chair as I question him.

"Probably not." He shrugs his shoulders and walks further into the room, coming to stand beside me and look at the notebook sitting on the desk behind me.

"Alright then, I'm not even gonna ask." I swivel my chair around to face the desk once again, watching Jimin's face as he reads the words on the page, examining my rewrites with the utmost focus and attention.

"Wow... I thought my lyrics were good. But.... damn." He turns his head to meet my eyes. "You've really got some talent, Y/N."

My cheeks flush at the compliment, not used to being recognized for it. I avoid his eyes as I look back toward the notebook.

"It's nothing, I just reported it a little bit to better match the rhythm of the song. This way, the meter of the stanza will match the beat a lot better. But, Jimin, you did amazing. What you wrote here... just..." I look at the man standing beside me. "Wow."

He flushes at my words, his hand coming to rub the nape of his neck as he straightens his spine. "I just felt kind of inspired, I guess."

He smiles shyly at me as I grin at him. I fake punch him lightly in the shoulder, lightening the mood. "Hey, give yourself some credit. You did good. Own it."

He laughs lightly, loosening up a bit. "Yeah, yeah. Okay."

"No, say it!" I persist. "Say 'I did an awesome job at writing these lyrics and I am oh so very talented'."

He scrunches his face in a mic of amusement and awkwardness as he tries to laugh off my words.

"Whatever. So can we go to the recording booth? Try this out?" He asks, waving me off.

I let it go, deciding that I've proven my point enough to not push it any further. "Yeah, let me just put the track on the flash drive real quick and we can head over."

While working on his lyrics, I was able to finish the backing track. His words inspired me and helped me find the finishing touches I really needed. All that's left is to finish writing the lyrics, record it, and mix it all together.

I click my mouse as I drag the file over to the drive, preparing to transport it to the recording booth that a lot of the other producers and I share. Although I have my own studio and microphone for recording backing vocals, for the artists we like to have the best recording set up. I pull the drive from my computer and grab the notebook, standing from my chair as I turn toward Jimin.

"You ready?" I ask, knowing that his nerves are high at the moment, the anxiety of recording the raw emotion in which these lyrics are written showing on his face.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

I wrap my arm around his as we march out of my studio and down the hall.

"Watch me go, soak me all night long, away... So the morning gets drunk and never comes."

Jimin's soft vocals ring throughout the studio as I stare at him in awe. Seeing the words on paper is nothing compared to hearing them in such a mellifluous way. He peels off the headset and places it around his neck, a smile shining on his face as his eyes sparkle.

"How was that?" He asks me through the microphone. I press the button on the desk so he can hear my response in the speakers throughout the inside of the recording booth.

"Jiminie, that was amazing! First take, wow. Let's keep going and finish up the rest of the pre-chorus and then we'll take a break." My cheeks hurt from how big I've been smiling for the past hour. After doing some minor rewrites after we arrived and settling on exactly how we wanted to vocal lines to sound, we finally started recording. I rewind the track a few seconds, Jimin's previously recorded vocals playing through as he secures his headset back on and closes his eyes in concentration.

"I fade away in the loud music, I'm getting used to the cliché story like a drama. I'm getting used to it. Have I come too far to find the me you used to know? Yeah I know, you know, I know..."

Jimin never ceases to amaze me. Although he has a beautiful deep chest voice, he prefers to sing in the higher tones. That fact fits beautifully with this song. But, maybe one day I can convince him to showcase more of his lower vocals. The proud smile I wear never leaves as he looks at me with excitement, his eyes forming crescents so slivered I wonder how he even sees what's in front of him.

He sets his headset on the small table next to the microphone, his half empty water bottle sitting next to it. I look back toward the screen to start the playback of what all we've recorded thus far as I hear the door to the recording booth open and shut softly, near-silent but quick footsteps near me as Jimin rushes to see the screen.

We haven't yet added the whispers in the beginning, so the track still feels a little empty as it starts. But as soon as the vocals come in, it feels complete. A weight lifts off my shoulders at the sound, a relieved sigh leaving me as my chest feels light. I close my eyes as I smile, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She's saying 'Baby, don't think about it. There's not a bad thing here tonight. Baby, it's fine if you have to leave, but stay with me just for today.'"

We listen for the next minute or so and I pause it right before the chorus comes in.

"Oh my God! Jimin!" I jump up and throw my arms dramatically around him, causing him to almost loose balance and brace a hand against the desk to keep standing. He laughs as he regains his balance and wraps his arms around my waist. We stay like that for a little while, rocking slightly back in forth as we bask in the feeling of accomplishment.

I lean slightly and place my hands on his reddened cheeks, forcing him to make eye contact with me.

"I'm so proud of you! That sounds amazing!" Jimin looks down bashfully at my words, but the smile grows on his face, his teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

"Thanks... You did most of the work, though."

I smile fondly at my best friend.

"Jimin, don't discredit yourself. I just helped you bring your vision to life, and you're doing the same for me." He looks back up and meets my eyes once again. "I'm so glad that I shared this with you. This is coming out better than I could've imagined."

We stay like that for a few moments more before a knock breaks the moment. We look at the doorway simultaneously.

"Am I interrupting something?" The silky smooth voice carries throughout the room, his words making my cheeks flush. His strong brows are pushed together into an expression I can't really put my finger on. Confusion, disgust, anger... jealousy? No, it can't be.

Nonetheless, Jimin lets go of his hold on me at the presence of his bandmate, taking a step back to put some space between us.

"We just finished up recording a good chunk of the song." Jimin explains. "I'm actually really proud of it."

Jungkook's face softens as his brows shoot up, disappearing under the black bucket hat on his head, the rings on the brim clinking together as he tilts his head and leans against the doorway.

"Really? I didn't even know you were working on something new." His eyes dart over to me momentarily before moving back to Jimin. "What is it?"

I clear my throat before I speak up for him. "That song that I was working on when you came into my studio yesterday. I showed it to Jimin and he marked his claim on it the second it started playing." I laugh lightly as I avert my eyes over to my best friend, pride shining all throughout my features. "He wrote lyrics for it overnight, and we've been putting it together since your practice ended."

Jungkook smiles wide as he walks over to Jimin, placing a hand on his shoulder. "That's amazing, hyung! I can't wait to hear it."

"Thanks, Kook. I can't wait either." His eye crescents come back as he smiles mischievously. "But, you gotta wait until it's done. No spoilers!"

The bunny man pouts at his elder. "That's mean. But, fine. I was coming in here to record some stuff I'm working on, but I'll wait until you guys finish up. I didn't know that anyone was in here today." He pulls out a flashdrive from his pocket, holding it up to prove his intentions.

"That's fine. We were just finishing up anyway. I just gotta make sure everything saves over then we can get out of your hair." I turn back toward the computer, leaning over the desk to move everything back over to my portable drive. A few seconds later and I unplug it, turning back toward the two men.

They seem to be having a secret conversation, whispering over in the corner of the room, too quiet for me to hear. Jungkook makes eye contact with me and I crease my brows in confusion. His eyes widen and he clears his throat, cutting off whatever Jimin was saying.

"Where are you guys off to?" He asks, turning his gaze back toward Jimin.

"The dance studio. Wanna blow off some steam before we go and get ready for recording later."

Jimin walks back over to me, placing his elbow on my shoulder and showcasing the slight height difference. Honestly, this man is just so proud that he's 3 inches taller than me and uses every opportunity to show it off. Then again, being surrounded by giants all day probably doesn't help his height complex.

"Oh, you dance?" Jungkook directs the question back at me.

"Yeah... I used to study contemporary back in the States. Sometimes it nice to just... let go. You know?" I shuffle uncomfortably at the admission. He seems perplexed as he takes in the information, seemingly hooked on every new detail he can learn about me.

"Anyway," I silently thank Jimin for breaking the tension "we are heading out. Good luck on whatever you're working on, Kookie!"

He all but pushes me out of the room, hands pressing against my shoulders in a rush to leave to recording studio. As we exit the room, I glance back over my shoulder, only to find a doe eyed Jungkook staring. We make eye contact one final time before we turn to go down the corridor, a red flush creeping on his cheeks.

Jimin moves so that he's no longer pushing, but walking alongside me. I glance over at him only to see him wearing a knowing smile as he glances back. Thankfully, he doesn't say anything.

As we turn into the next hallway, I hear the soft sound of a symphony staring to ring from the room we just left. And for once, I let myself smile about the boy with the bunny teeth responsible for it.

#jungkook x reader #bts jungkook #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction

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undercoverwizardfanfiction · 2 years

Text

Title: Glass Shell

Verse: ROTTMNT

Summary: Afterall, aren’t we all in various stages of falling apart?

Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, Raphael

Pairings:

Warnings: PTSD, meltdown, nightmares, past trauma

@hoshisoul and @soldierofsirens thank you both :)

Being a record-breaking insomniac, Leo is always finicky if he wakes up before he’s ready. Normally the process includes twelve alarms, turning off the heated blanket he had started using for the top half of his body and the slightly warmer second heated blanket he used for the bottom half and letting nature do its work (if he’s lucky, he’d be up by noon). What he doesn’t like is having an empty bag dropped entirely on his face. For a moment all he can do was shoot up in a sitting position and swipe at his face furiously till he’s able to catch it and pull it off. He pushes up his eye mask and rubs at his face as he reads the bag.

“Naturally sourced fair trade premium coffee beans?” He looks up to his assailant. “Raph, I keep telling you coffee is a gateway drug and our grocery bills can’t afford another caffeine addict—”

“That's not—no, I don’t have the physical strength to fight Donnie for coffee every morning,” Raph says with a shake of his head, as though the very thought of it was enough to give him nightmares. “No, I wanted to talk to you, ’cause I think something might be happening and I’m not sure. I’ve been wrong in the past; I’ve made things worse in the past—” Raph starts tapping his forefingers as his talking speeds up. “And—and I don't want to overstep, but I can't stop thinking about it and—and I thought I’d come to you since you’re better about this—”

“Buddy, buddy, you’re at a 10 right now, I need you to be at a 3,” Leo pulls his water jug off his bedside and takes a sip. “Maybe a 2. “

Raph's face twists up in frustration, but he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths and opens his eyes again. He starts pacing across the small space between Leo’s bed and the door, gesturing with his hands.

“OK, so we got groceries two days ago. I remember because you always buy an extra three boxes of cookies. One for dipping into sour cream while you shop, one for Pops so he doesn’t eat your cookies, and one for the drive home, ’cause, and I quote: ‘I just did my chore for the week and I deserve this.’” Raph pauses and looks at him. “You know, how you’re still alive is beyond me.”

“Pizza Supreme in the Sky wouldn’t gift me to the world and take me away so easy.'' Leo grins. Now that he’s waking up more, he stretches out his arms and legs in almost a catlike manner and yawns. “OK, OK, so we went grocery shopping. So what?”

“So, every week Donnie gets four large bags of overpriced coffee from that vegan store on the other side of town because the one we used to go to banned you both.”

“We’ve been over this. If they didn’t want us to ride a robot bear through their vegan honey aisle they should have put up a sign—”

“—SO I went to throw it in the recycling bin. And I saw there were already, like, four bags in there. That doesn’t seem healthy.”

Ah, worried big brother Raph is a classic. Leo can’t help but smile and reach out, wrapping his smaller hand around Raphs larger finger, which instinctively wraps around his.

“OK, OK, big guy, come here. Come listen to Wisonardo.” He manages to scoot over to let Raph sit down next to him before he gets up on his knees and starts kneading his shoulder. But upon realizing his fingers didn’t have the strength to make a difference, he switches to his elbows. “I know you love to worry. It’s your favorite thing to do other than collecting Teddy Bear Town coupons and anxiety. And the fact you haven't been hovering over him is great and I’m proud of you… I mean yeah, that much coffee would kill a T-Rex. But Donnie—'' Four bags was a lot of coffee, was he not sleeping at all? “That is a lot for him, but we’ve all been going through a lot with the Invasion, and I think this is just how he’s coping. I think.”

He was trying not to think about how he noticed the coffee pot had gone missing from the kitchen. Which meant either Donnie had broken the three he kept in his lab, or he had all four going off at once to ensure he didn't go a second without coffee. Out of the two options he wasn’t sure what was worse.

“So right now, we just need to give him his space. If something was really wrong my twin senses would have gone off—”

The sound of shattering glass fills the lair, and in a fit of panic, he vaults over Raph’s head. ”Nope, never mind, bad things are happening!” he says as he bursts out of his room. Leo turns so fast his feet slip under him, but he manages to right himself and run towards Don's lab.

“Donnie?” he calls out. Please let it just be an accident. Donnie’s hands were probably just slippery or he saw a spider or Webster changed the spelling of “theater” again. But as he turns around the corner, he sees pieces of a broken beaker on the floor outside his room, and a moment later a large monitor joins it, shattering and scattering across the floor.

“Donnie?” he calls out again. He runs and throws the curtains back.

Oh no.

The first thing he sees is Donnie, his tech shell to him. Before he can feel relief that he’s not hurt, he sees Donnie’s room, which, ever since they moved in, contained carefully stacked boxes all around the room's edge with the only real furniture being a desk. Now the boxes have fallen around the room with electronics and harddrives spilling out over the floor. Donnie has already grabbed a computer tower and has started raising it up over his head.

Despite years of knowing better, Leo lunges forward and wraps his arms around Donnie’s torso, trapping his arms and yanking back hard. The sudden movement causes Donnie to lose his grip on the tower and drop it back to the ground.

”Donnie, stop! You’ll hurt yourself!”

“Let me go!” Donnie shouts, thrashing around. Had it been any other turtle, Leo would have found it impossible to restrain him (Raph was Raph and Mikey was a hellion who once Kool Aid Man'd through a wall to avoid getting a tetanus shot), but he manages to lock Donnie in place by gripping his opposite wrist in a wrestling move Raph taught him.

Raph is by his side a moment later with wide, panicked eyes, looking from the ransacked lab to their brother.

“What happened! What's going on?!”

“I got him, I got him!” says Leo, even though it probably doesn’t look like that. Right now Leo’s highest priority is getting Donnie out of that room, but Raph is already hovering too close. “I said I got him. Make sure nothing is broken in here, OK? Please?” he begs.

Leo doesn’t bother to wait for an answer as he drags Donnie out of the room as best he can with Donnie’s thrashing. Before he can think of where to go, his foot catches a broken piece of monitor and the two hit the ground. Leo’s other arm instinctively covers Don’s head to keep it from hitting the concrete. Before Donnie can take advantage of his fall, he continues clinging to him as tight as he can, whispering through gritted teeth, “It’s OK, it’s OK,” as his eyes burn with tears. He presses his face into the back of Don’s neck. “It’s OK.”

After what feels like an eternity, but in reality is only a few moments, Donnie seems to understand Leo isn’t releasing him anytime soon. Slowly, his thrashing becomes weaker and the fist he had been using to pry Leo’s arm off him falls limp. There’s a small tremble that makes Leo think he’s mustering up strength to go another round before he begins to weep softly.

Leo lets out a sigh of relief. He loosens his grip for a moment to test if Donnie will take advantage and try to pull away. He lacks either the energy or the will to try anything. So Leo reaches up and grabs at the ground and heaves the two of them up into a sitting position, careful not to jostle him too much.

He checks to make sure they’re not caught on any of the wreckage before he reaffirms his other arm around him, holding him just as tight as before, but trying to comfort rather than restrain. He presses their temples together gently as he uses his thumb to stroke the back of his head.

“I gotcha buddy, just breathe,” he says softly. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Raph exit Don’s bedroom with a less-than-promising look on his face. Leo guides Don’s head so he can rest his chin on his scalp and looks at Raph. “How bad is it?”

“The surface was pretty badly cracked, but it might still work? I’m not exactly an expert,” he says, looking at Don.

Leo knows all he wants to do is check on him and find out what happened, but Leo shakes his head with a sympathetic expression on his face. Donnie doesn’t need to be bombarded with questions and he hopes that Raph will understand. Their older brother holds his gaze a moment later and, after a soft sigh, he nods.

“I’m….going to start cleaning up. Let me know if you need me…” he says, looking at them a moment longer and then walking away.

Leo is going to have to find some way to thank him later. He knows how hard it is for Raph to walk away, which is just another reason Leo knows Raph’s real strength has nothing to do with his physical form.

“I’m really proud of him,” he whispers to Donnie.

For the next several minutes, Leo simply holds his brother and rocks him. He does what he can to support him emotionally and physically as he weeps softly. But eventually, he feels Donatello stop trembling. Leo loosens his grip for a moment to test his reaction. But either Don has no reason to get free or he’s too exhausted to do so—he doesn’t know which, and isn’t sure if one would be worse than the other.

“Hey, Raph,” he calls softly. Raph ducks out of Don’s room a moment later. “Did you see if Donnie has his new bed set up yet?” When Raph shakes his head sadly, Leo lets out a small sigh.

“Oh, bud.” He holds Don a inch tighter to him. “I get it, I do,” he whispers, He looks back to Raph. “Can you help us real fast? Let's get him to my room so he can get some sleep.”

Raph’s eyes lit up, grateful to be of some help. He nods and kneels down. He holds his hand up, then hesitates. “It-It’s ok? I don’t want to mess up again—”

“Raph, it's OK. Please.” Leo gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, undermined by the fact that his lips can’t stop trembling.

But it has the intended effect. Raph nods. “Ok, let's go.”

Between the two of them they are able to lift Donnie to his feet. Raph has a careful grip on his shoulders that tells Leo he’s considering just picking him up, but Leo catches his eyes and shakes his head. Raph thankfully respects his wishes, but stays close as Leo pulls Don’s arm over his neck. Again, he tests to see if Donnie would rather walk on his own, but the softshell leans against him with his free hand wiping at his eyes. He’s grateful for Raph staying close as he helps Don to his bedroom, even more so when he pulls the covers back.

“Thanks, man,” he whispers over his shoulder as he guides Donnie closer. He’s unsure how to help him get into bed without manhandling him, but Donnie simply flops over on the bed and curls up in a little ball. Leo does a look-over for injury and spots a large bruise forming on his left bicep, but after a quick panic, reminds himself it would be impossible for Donnie to give himself that sort of bruise. But as Raph pulls the covers over him, he notices Don’s hands hanging over the side and that his fingers and gloves are covered in a brown liquid.

“I’m going to take these off for you, OK?” he says. He takes the gloves by the bottoms and peels them off as gently as he can, watching Don’s sleeping face in case he has any protest as Leo reaches into his bedside table and pulls out a container of unscented hand wipes. He looks over his shoulder to Raph as he bundles a bunch of wipes into his hands. “He can’t stand to have things sticking to his hands. It stresses him out,” he explains. Leo’s not sure he’s done a satisfactory job, so he sets the wipes by the bedside.

“In case you need them, bud.”

He considers going and getting one of the duffel bags Mikey has in his room, but decides against it, as Donnie is already asleep. The only consolation is that the tears streaming down his face have finally stopped, and Leo can only assume he’s sleeping well. He bunches his hoodie sleeve into his fist and carefully wipes off Don’s face and stands up hesitating a moment longer to turn the dial on Don’s headphones to noise canceling mode as gently as he can without waking him.

He turns to Raph and gestures nothing we can do now; let him rest.

“Y—yeah, OK.” Raph looks back at Donnie but Leo takes him by the arm and helps him out. Leo looks back to make sure Donnie is actually asleep before he squeezes his arm gently.

“Hey, you did so well, Big Guy. I’m proud of you.”

“Did I? He was so out of it and—and I didn’t do anything. You did more than I did—”

“You didn’t overcrowd him, you didn’t barrage him with a thousand questions. You listened, I—I—” Now that they’re out of his bedroom, he lets his voice crack as he drops Raphs arm. He presses the palms of his hands to his now-burning eyes. “I—I’ve never had to restrain him like that before. I was so scared he was going to hurt himself and I—I—” His voice cracks again and this time Leo feels Raph put a hand on his shell and guide him into a tight protective hug. Despite himself, he gratefully leans against his brother and hugs him back just as tightly. He allows himself a few moments of comfort before he pulls away and wipes at his eyes again.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” he says, fluttering his hands, and he takes several deep breaths. He can feel Raph giving him the same look he had given Donnie.

“You look beat, man. Do you want to crash in my room for a bit?”

“No, not right now. Donnie’s stressed ’cause he has too much work to do. He’s had to rebuild our home three times now; the least we can do is pick up his bedroom.”

“Yeah, yeah, that sounds like a plan. Should we call Dad? He’d want to know.”

“He would, but he’s at Mikeys’ appointment and I don't want to worry him. We’ll let him know when they get back.” He looks at Raph. Even though the snapping turtle was no longer the leader, he still sought his opinion on certain situations. After a moment of eye contact, Raph nods.

“Alright, sounds good. I’ll grab another dustpan and then we’ll get to work.”

Leo takes a moment and looks back to the room where his brother is currently sleeping off the worst meltdown he has ever seen. The fluttering returns to his hands as he shakes out his hands and takes another deep breath before heading to Donnie’s wrecked room.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

Cleaning had never been Leo’s strong suit; helping, even less so. But with Raph’s guidance, the two are able to clean up the disassembled room that had been assigned to Donnie. Now that things are being cleaned up, he can see the shattered remains of two coffee pots and a broken mug with dried coffee under one of the fallen stacks. Leo doesn’t point it out to Raph. He doesn’t want to brainstorm over what happened here; his anxiety would only think of the worst-case scenario and do no one any good. But he takes note of it as he cleans up. Even with the help, it takes a few hours to get anything back into respectable order. Nowhere near as organized as Donnie had been (there were no sub-subcategories or codes), but hopefully done well enough so that Donnie wouldn’t be stressed out.

“Ugh, I can’t believe Splinter expects us to do this more than once a year,” Leo grumbles as he stands up straight, shaking the dust from their labor off his hands.

Raph looks at him with a big smirk that Leo hadn’t realized he missed. “If you cleaned more than once a year it wouldn’t be hard to clean.”

“UGH. NO. I REFUSE! That’s for ugly people!” he says with an overly dramatic scoff that does the intended job of making Raph laugh. His older brother reaches over and takes his shoulders from behind, digging his thumbs into his shoulders.

“Alright, your highness, let's get out of here before you break into hives.”

“Ow, ow! Spiky fingers, spiky fingers!!!” He squirms to free himself, but Raph guides him out of the room. Leo twists free and sticks his tongue out at him at a safe distance, which does nothing other than make Raph laugh harder. “OK, you brute, for a job well done, I think we deserve ice cream,” he says. Without waiting, he skips back over to the kitchen. He’s already imagining what kind of cottage cheese he’s going to add to his ice cream as he pulls the freezer door open. The cold breeze barely reached his finger tips before he freezes up.

Endless darkness.

His body ached from hours and hours of battle and now rested against a large rock. It was the closest he had come to rest in close to twelve hours. Through bleary eyes, he saw a large form, forged from metal he couldn't even imagine. It caused the very ground beneath him to tremble with each step. Its laughs were as dark as the void around him.

“My wrath shall be reserved for you and you alone.”

Leo jumps back and slams the freezer door shut. He throws himself back as far back as he can until his shell hits the kitchen table, causing it to slide back several inches. He looks at the fridge as though he expected the cold to break free and drag him in with it.

The cold always made it worse.

The cold always consumed him.

The sound of Raph’s footsteps reaches him and he barely has time to stand back up and calm his exterior before he enters.

“What’s up? What kind of ice cream are we eating?”

“Um, ACTUALLY, how about we eat some real food? I forgot I have a cavity so I have to chillax on the ice cream,” he says, hoping Raph doesn’t remember he considers cavities to be achievements, but after giving him a quizzical expression, Raph looks back out into the Lair. Confused, Leo goes to join him, but realizes what, or who, Raph is looking for.

“Looks like Splinter and Mikey decided to go shopping after their appointment.” Leo leans in the doorway by him.

“If they went to Sparkling Sterling Sporks, then we might not see them again for a week,” Raph says with a smirk, but Leo watches Raph’s gaze go back to his subway car. For a moment he’s scared that Raph will just go over, but his older brother takes a deep breath. “OK, Lee, I’ll follow your lead on this. What should we do next?”

Leo isn’t sure how many more times he can tell Raph he’s proud of him before it loses meaning. Instead, he gives him a supportive squeeze on the arm.

“I’ll check on him if he’s still asleep. I don't want to wake him. Mikey made a giant pot of french onion soup; can you heat some up? It's one of Don's favorites and maybe it’ll help him feel better.”

“No coffee?”

“God no, but if you could rush order some coffee beans and a new coffee maker for tomorrow, that’d be great. If he finds out he’s all out he’s going to murder us all without mercy.”

Raph breaks out into another smile but it falls into a moment of Oh shit, he’s right as he turns and books it back to the kitchen with his phone up, typing furiously. Leo can’t help the chuckle that escapes him. Laughing again feels really good; it feels like he hasn't laughed since the Invasion, unless it was for show. He makes his way back towards the subway car. After a moment to steel himself, he presses his palm to his bedroom door. He had only intended to peek, but after a glimpse his eyes widen and he throws the door open.

The bed is empty.

“Donnie?!” he calls, looking around. There isn’t really a space to hide in his room but he has to make sure Donnie isn’t sitting in a corner out of sight. “Dee? Alone time is fine but knowing you’re OK is even cooler??” He hurries out into the main living space and does a quick 360 to make sure Donnie isn’t hanging out in the arcade or wandering around with a broken coffee pot for his first victim.

There is none.

There is nothing.

Leo turns to run to the kitchen before skidding to a stop and he flutters his hands angrily by his head. “Calm down, calm down, it’s OK, it’s OK. Panicking isn’t going to help anyone. Donnie is capable and fine,” he reminds himself. He blows out air between his lips and, with one final angry flap, stills his hands. He manages to calm his exterior and goes to the kitchen, hoping Donnie wandered in in the ten seconds he was gone. He feels his heart drop when he only sees Raph at the stove, who gives him a confused look.

“Leo? Donnie ok?”

“Um, yeah, yeah.” His hands tremble again as he does one more look around the room. “I mean, yeah, I think he is. He’s not here. And—and he’s not in the Lair.”

“Wh—what do you mean?” A surge of panic fills Raph's eyes that Leo has been expecting since they first heard the glass break. “He’s not here? Did he run away—”

“No, no, I don't think that.” Leo has to bring his hands up again and stims a little. He has to calm down, separate the panic from the truth. “No. Donnie doesn’t run away, he sulks and pouts. He only runs away dramatically after we’ve binge-watched the first twenty-three seasons of Lou Jitsu in Lou Jitsu and his Shakes-Pearean Wedding to MilkShakespeare.” Deep breath, deep breath. “We were cleaning for a while,”—he has to be logical—“He might have just needed some air and walked out without telling us.” Leo pulls out his phone and, not for the first time, he prays that Donnie secretly installed his turtle tracker on his phone. But as he struggles to pull up any apps through burning eyes, all he can see is Donnie's wrecked bedroom, one that was done after a terrible night at the Yokai Mart which felt like a lifetime ago and now, in a Lair that didn't feel like home, the feeling of Donnie thrashing against him before breaking down and weeping in his arms.

He pauses.

He realizes.

Leo takes a deep breath and puts his phone (one more wrong password from being locked out) back in his belt. He closes his eyes and makes eye contact with Raph, who's looking at him like he’s lost his mind.

“I think I know where he’s at,” he starts carefully, with less confidence than he’s trying to exude. “I—I’m going to go check real fast, but it might take me a bit to get there.”

“You—” Raph pauses, “You don't want me to come with you, do you?”

“No, bud—” it's hard for Leo to watch Raph’s eyes fall to the ground, filled with frustrated tears. “Hey, hey.” Leo steps forward and, in the same way he did with Donnie, puts a hand on the back of Raph’s head and puts their temples together. “You’re a turtle of action. You do an amazing job keeping us safe. And I know it doesn’t seem like it now. But this? This is helping a ton. I wouldn’t have been able to help Donnie like I did without you. But I need you to stay here in case Donnie comes back.”

After a breath, Raph looks at him again and, though a tear runs down his face. He gives a shaky smile and a nod that Leo makes sure to return.

“That’s my man. Keep the soup warm, and if Dad gets back before us, just tell him the truth, but don't say anything before they get back. He and Mikey are having fun and if anyone deserves that, it's them.” He releases Raph. He hurries to Mikey’s room long enough to grab a duffel bag with a piece of purple duct tape wrapped around the handle (alongside a few others with different color markings), returns to the kitchen, and stuffs a few more items from around the kitchen into his bag. Leo makes sure to give Raph one more encouraging smile. As he walks out of the lair, he looks over his shoulder to make sure he’s far enough away before he secures the duffel bag to his shell and breaks into a dead run.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not until Leo’s almost to the lair that the terrain gets treacherous. Splinter and Draxum never talked about how the Battle with Shredder went down, but it wrecked everything underground for almost a two-mile radius. And in the times they returned to their former home to collect any resources that had survived, Mikey would always cling to someone's arm with a death grip until they left again. The youngest of them had been the only one brave enough to manifest how it had felt to come back to their ruined home.

Because of the momentum from running, Leo’s able to easily vault over several broken slabs of concrete, jump over wide gaps in the ground that revealed sewer tunnels underneath, and walk through the makeshift tunnel they had dug out to make treks to their old home easier. It takes him a minute to shimmy though until he finds himself doubling over, gasping for air in the wrecked remains of their childhood home.

Like every time he's visited, he freezes for a moment with his breath caught in his chest. He reaches a trembling hand up and feels his mask tails. He can still remember the jerk from when Shredder nearly cut his head off. The panic as he watched their home cave in around them, feeling powerless. Helpless.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories.

He remembers how close they came to becoming memories since then.

He shakes out his trembling hands and moves through the lair. At this point in time, because of the open water pipes and gathering moisture, algae and grass have begun to replace their presence here (which, in a way, was a blessing if anyone ever came down to fix the pipes). But the only remaining color comes from the still hanging torn purple curtain that Donnie had refused to take with him. He hovers at the entrance for a moment; he knows better than anyone how overbearing he can be and he will never quite forgive himself for how he reacted during the Yokai Mart incident. But he knows better now, he hopes. He raises his hand and knocks gently on the frame of the opening.

“Dee? It's me. Is it OK if I come in and hang out for a bit?” he asks, fully knowing there’s a good chance Donnie isn’t there and, even if he is, he isn’t sure what to expect as a response. But Leo watches the curtain twitch for a moment, as though someone is trying to pull it open without having the energy to do so. Leo grips the straps of his duffel bag tighter before ducking in.

Most of Don’s room had caved in during the attack, leaving the only viable sitting spot directly by the entrance where Leo sees him, curled up with his face in his knees. If he hadn’t seen Donnie try to pull the curtain open he would’ve thought he had simply fallen asleep again. He does a quick look-over to check for injury, but other than the large bruise on his bicep that has now fully formed against his sea-green skin, he's grateful to find nothing new. He looks around for a place to sit before deciding to sit by his side, giving him enough space that he hopes will help him feel comfortable. Now that he knows where Donnie is, he could relax and let out a deep breath, sinking down to give his now aching body a break.

For a moment he's satisfied with just sitting there, catching his breath. But out of the corner of his eye he watches Donnie for any sudden movements or signs that he wants Leo to leave. But he waits a bit before he speaks, until he knows it won't be hindered by his gasping breath.

“How did you know I’d be here?” Donnie’s voice is so quiet, he isn’t sure he hears him at first.

“I could say I’m a great detective. But I know you’d want to be somewhere no one would look for you…” He looks around the room, catching sight of a pile of rubble that had been moved recently, as though someone had moved things around to lay down. “How often do you come here now?” He sees Donnie flinch out of the corner of his eye and he knows he’s hit on a truth.

“A little? At first, just after the Invasion ’cause I needed to be somewhere to breathe, then a few days a week, then every night when everyone went to bed. I needed to be somewhere I could scream and shout without anyone coming running. I just.” He blinks hard. “I just wanted to go home.”

Leo has to look away to keep his eyes from welling up again, trying not to think about how many nights Donnie spent in this wreckage, not just for his mental health. But looking around, he’s reminded how unstable the wreckage is. If Donnie had hit his head, or fallen, how long would it have been before anyone had noticed? Or would they have just woken up one day and thought Donnie had run away? A thousand new nightmares vie for his attention, but he manages to take a deep breath and blink back tears of panic by reaching for the duffel bag.

“I brought it along in case it might help.”

“Unless there's a new coffee maker and ten-gallon thermos, I doubt it.”

“No, but there is water.” Leo can't help but smirk. “Before you murder me and feed me to your robotic worms, I know you haven't had any liquid that hasn’t been boiled to death by a coffee maker in a few days. I’ll make you some coffee tomorrow, but for right now, if you could stomach a bottle of water, I'd really appreciate it.”

Tired bloodshot eyes peer at him from over Donnie’s arms and he flinches in a way that Leo can tell means he’s trying to glare but doesn’t have the energy for it. He starts to unfurl himself. Leo checks again for any bruising he might have missed and is grateful not to see anything new. Without saying anything else, Leo holds out the bottle of water to him. Donnie, while still failing to glare at him properly, breaks the seal and takes a small sip at first, but it must trigger something in him, since he downs it in a matter of seconds. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand,

“Thanks,” Donnie says weakly, handing the empty bottle back.

“No problem, bud. Do you need anything else? I have modified Tylenol, Germ-X, hand wipes—”

“I think I'm OK for now. Well, as OK as I can be.” Donnie turns to face forward again, this time resting his head on his arms instead of hiding his face, which Leo takes as a good sign. “How bad was it?” he asks.

“Um.” Leo pauses, unsure of how to answer in a way that wouldn't hurt him. “Made one hell of a mess, but we picked up the pieces. You scared the shell off Raph.”

“Crap, Raph was there.” Donnie presses his face into his hands. “I must have stressed him out so bad.”

“A little, but he stayed calm, gave you your space, and didn’t ask a lot of questions. You would have been really proud of him.”

“Really?” Donnie looks to him again and Leo can see the tension leave his shoulders. He almost smiles before it fades again. “Can, can you tell me what happened?”

Leo blinks, “You don't remember?”

“Not really. I remember being in my room, I had a huge headache trying to organize those stupid boxes, I had a cup of coffee in my hands. I tried to take down a box from one of the taller stacks but I lost my balance and—and it fell and knocked me over. Hit me in the head, covering me in coffee. I just, I guess I lost it.” Donnie presses his face back into his knees. “I’ve never had a meltdown so bad I couldn’t remember it afterwards. I—I think,”—his voice cracks—“I think I'm falling apart.”

Leo instinctively reaches his arm up to pull him into his side and has to stop himself, reminding himself that Donnie doesn't like physical contact, but Donnie tilts and curls up into his side with all his weight, almost sending Leo falling on his side. And, after just a moment of shock, he wraps his arms around him and holds him tightly. It's in these moments Leo knows his failings, lacking the right words to say to make the pain go away. But as he rests his chin on Don's scalp and looks around the room, a soft chuckle escapes him.

“Hey,” he says softly to catch Don’s attention. “R—remember when we were little? And this used to be the quiet room? I was so jealous ’cause even though Dad said it was for everyone, it was obviously made with you in mind and I didn’t understand why we needed it. And I haaaaated the idea of being quiet.”

“You also said you hated me.”

For a moment he’s not sure he heard him right and looks down to him. “I—are you sure? I said that?”

“Yeah, but you were just a kid. I think I had been going through your comics and it set you off. If it helps, if it had been the other way around and I caught you going through my stuff, I would have said worse. Or rather, written an extremely hurtful grammatically solid letter and had someone else read it to you. I wasn’t exactly communicating verbally at the time.”

“Right,” Leo says, not that it made him feel any better. But Donnie must have sensed that, since he shifts around without pulling free to dig around in his belt.

“You felt so bad afterwards you made me these.” In his hand rest two small faded green figurines with worn edges, one with torn purple fabric and the other with blue. Leo smiles softly.

“I remember that part.” With his free hand he nudges the purple one enough to make the arm swing, having lost the grip in its socket a long time ago. “Didn’t you make one for Mikey and Raph?”

“I did, but they were lost when...”—Donnie gestures to the lair—“I started carrying these with me when I felt anxious. It helped me calm down; at least, it used to. Then we lost our home again ’cause some chewed up gum looking aliens from a direct to video The Blob lookalike decided to invade our world.” Donnie jerks his hands in a moment of frustration, an angry tear peeking at the corner of his eyes. “I can’t keep doing this, Leo, I can't keep watching our homes, our lives, get upturned over and over again and be expected to go on with life. I’m not strong enough—”

“Hey.'' For the first time Leo leans away and takes Donnie by both of his shoulders. He doesn’t force eye contact, but this is as close as he gets to trying to get Donnie's full attention. “Struggling doesn’t make you or anyone weak. You think there’s medals out there for who can suffer the most, outside of reality TV? No! Dad always says that strength comes from helping and supporting each other. Are there people out there who see us cracking and think they see—see gold?! Maybe, but they don’t know us. They don’t see our family or the people who help hold us together.” Leo stops talking for a moment, and he takes a deep breath, far braver than he was before.

“I—I haven’t.” The trembling now has taken his voice, and it's noticeable enough for Donnie to look up at him. “I—I’m scared to sleep at night. I’m scared to the point where I’d rather stay up on nothing but pure spite and funny videos, because whenever I close my eyes, I see him. I see him, I feel his fists cracking.” Leo releases Don’s shoulders and holds his chest. He can still feel the outline of healing cracks that had once been barely held together with whatever yokai medicine Draxum made. “I feel the cold, Donnie. It was so cold there. And now, and now whenever I get caught in a cold breeze or open the freezer I just… choke,” he says, his voice breaking with a small sob.

Without hesitation, the arms of his most touch averse brother wrap around him. All the strength he had been trying to hold up for Donnie fails as he presses his face into Don’s shoulders. No tears but the trembling of terror as he clings to his brother.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Donnie asks. “We’re your family. We would have supported you—”

“Because I saw Mikey and Raph going to therapy, I saw Casey adjusting to being a normal kid, and I saw you working hard. I thought, I hoped, I was the only one struggling, and if I ignored it, it would go away. It did when Mikey couldn’t sleep alone in his room and slept in mine for a few weeks. But it came back, and I know now that it's not going away on its own.” Another pause.

“We talked about this a while back; we made a deal that if one of us considered going to therapy, so would the other. I want to change that.”

Donnie shakes his head tiredly. “Leo—”

“I know you don’t want to go, and I’m not going to force you. But if you start going, so will I. And I’ll go with you to every one of your appointments, and you can go to all of mine if you want. Just so you know there’s someone waiting outside that room ready to support you. It doesn’t even have to be me! It can be Raph, or Dad or anyone you want. I’ll hire Jupiter Jim to go with you if that helps! And—and if you still feel like you need to come here to scream and vent, please tell me. I won't stop you. I'll come and we can scream together,” he says, hugging Donnie an inch tighter to him.

He’s not sure what to expect for a response. Then, Donnie lets out a weak, tearful “What if they tell me I was born wrong? What if they tell me I’m so damaged that they can’t do anything about it?”

“Well, first of all you have three—” Leo pauses. “Four brothers, three sisters and a former action star dad who will wipe the floor with any ableist piece of trash who says that. And if it's not the perfect fit, we’ll find someone who is. It doesn't even have to be forever; we can just go until we eat all the free candy they keep in the lobby.”

“There’s free candy?” Donnie says with a weak laugh.

“There’s always free candy. I actually got banned from going with Mikey to his appointments because of that. Then Splinter started going and he almost got banned ’cause he started fighting some eighty-year-old lady for the last red jolly rancher, and they had to call animal control an—” He stops when he hears a weak chuckle come from Donnie. And for the first time, Leo’s face lights up. “Hey, don't laugh! It was a fiasco! They had to call the fire department! Draxum had to come bail him out of jail. Jail, Donald!” he says with loud emphasis, gesturing dramatically with his free hand while the other’s still holding Donnie around the shoulders. “And worse! WORSE THAN THAT!!” he says even louder, to be heard over Donnie’s laughter he can’t smother with his hands. “He had the audacity, the AUDACITY, to wait till it was midnight to come to bail Splinter in his bathrobe, slippers and Starbucks. STARBUCKS, DONNIE!!! Like is there a bigger slap to the face than arriving late with Starbucks, Donatello!? I think not—”

“Stop stop—” Donnie wipes his streaming eyes with his hands. “Stop, I hate it when you make me laugh—”

“Only because it's one of the few times you admit I’m hilarious.” Leo grins before he finally lets himself laugh. He laughs harder than he has in a long time, leaving tears of laughter streaming down his face. And, as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, it’s nice to laugh in a place that had once held all their best memories.

Finally, what feels like too soon, their laughter fades into chuckles then ends altogether. And for a moment the pain and trauma feels far away.

“I’ll go,” Don finally says. “If you go.”

Leo smiles and reaches out, taking his brother’s hand into his. “Thank you for being the brave twin,” he says.

“Please,'' Donnie says with an eye roll, but he can’t stop smiling. He looks around Leo to the duffel bag. “So why do you have a duffel bag full of things I like?”

“It was something Mikey’s therapist thought of. It's called a Mental Health First Aid Kit. In case of, well.” He gestures. “Things like this. I helped him put one together for all of us. There’s even one for Splinter, April, Draxum, Casey and… Casey.” Leo blinks. “Yeah, that's going to be confusing. I even brought your weighted blanket if you needed it.”

“No, I don't want to fall asleep out here. I’ve done that too many times.” Donnie sighs as he closes his eyes, leaning again on his brother. As Leo resumes putting his arm around him, his phone lets out a chirp and he pulls it out. He lets out a sigh as he turns the screen so Donnie can see it.

“Dad’s home and wanted to check in with us. He says there’s no pressure but Raph can come pick us up with the Turtle Tank. He also said April can pick us up but giving, um, Future Casey’s driving and…” he let it drift off with an almost nauseous look on his face

“Yeah no, I’m not getting in the same car as him again. Never before had I been so grateful for a cop to try and pull us over.” Donnie lets out a shiver and Leo has to remember to ask for that story later (the only thing he knew was that Donnie and Future Casey had to push the car home in twelve different pieces that had somehow become infused in jello).

“Cool, and if you're ready, I can help you set up your new bed and you can sleep in your room tonight.”

“I,” Don pauses. “I’m not ready for that yet, but you can if you want. Maybe I can crash in your room for a bit till I am ready. And maybe it'll help you get a good night’s sleep as well.”

Leo’s mouth trembles for a moment as he smiles softly. “My hero.” he says.

It would be great to get rid of those heated blankets. Don scoots back and leans again into Leo’s side, pausing for a moment before digging into the duffel bag on Leo’s other side and fishing out the weighted blanket (he must have changed his mind). He gives Leo’s shoulder a small tug, an indication for him to lean forward to wrap one corner around his shoulders before wrapping himself in the other and sinking into his side again. Within moments, Donnie is back asleep and Leo leaves, enjoying the soothing weight of the blanket on his shoulders and his brother by his side. For the last time that day, he blinks back the fear that has been threatening to consume and breathes out with the realization that everything will be OK before drifting off as well.

(#)(#)\/(#)(#)

It's not till he hears the sound of footsteps that Leo realizes he’s fallen asleep. Jerking into a more upright position, he instinctively tightens his grip on Don, who is still waking up, and reaches for one of his katanas. But after a moment he recognizes the footsteps.

“Leo? Donnie?” calls out Raph,

“Over here!” he calls. Leo starts rubbing Don's arm with his opposite hand. “Wake up, bud, our ride’s here.”

“So that's why I smell Raph’s ‘driving after five PM’ stink?” Donnie asks groggily, wiping at his eyes and making Leo chuckle softly. The curtain flaps a moment later as Raph steps through. Leo has a split second to notice the anxiety in Raph's eyes fade as they fell on the two and he moved over, crouching down in front of them. He brings his hands up for a moment as though ready to pull them both into a hug right then and there but he takes a deep breath.

“Are you two alright?” Raph asks, eyes once again looking over them for signs of injury or distress.

“We’re as good as it gets. Near perfection but a different shade of green,” Donnie says with a half tired shrug.

“Th—that's great! That's good. Great—” with each positive affirmation Leo can see Raph mentally willing back the energy till it’s barely contained with his relieved eyes. But before Leo can say anything, Donnie reaches up and takes Raph’s bicep. Though he’s not nearly strong enough to move Raph, he gives a slight tug which gives Raph the direction, albeit confused look on his face, to scoot closer. Close enough to lean forward and give him a small one armed hug around the neck as he rests his forehead on Raph’s shoulder.

“I know Leo already told you, and you know I hate saying he was right, but you did a really good job today. I know it's hard for you to let someone else take charge when it comes to us. You’re an amazing older brother, and I’m just as lucky to have you in my life as I am to have Dad, Mikey and Leo. Never forget that.”

Raph looks over to Leo for a moment as though for verification. Leo gives him a small nod, which is all that is needed for Raph’s eyes to swell up with big Raph tears as he trembles. His arms go up to hug Donnie, trembling in a way that told Leo he was hugging with only a fraction of the strength he wanted to.

“I’m always here for you, Don.” Leo lets out a soft smile as he reaches forward and gives Raph a gentle rub on the shoulder as the two hold each other for a few moments. But as Donnie goes to pull away, Raph respects his wishes and does so as well, using his wrist to wipe at his eyes. But Donnie keeps a grip on his wrist for a moment, drawing Raph’s attention back to him.

“I—It won't be tonight, but I think there’s a lot we have to talk about, with Dad.” Donnie looks over to Leo. After a moment of hesitation, the red slider nods as well, giving him permission. “Leo does too.”

Leo gives a weak smirk. “Yeah, turns out memes aren’t a great coping mechanism.”

“No.” Raph wipes the last of his tears on his arm. “No, but we are good at being there for eachother as a family. And if you’re up for it, I can get you two home.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you at the tank,” Leo says. Raph gives them both one last look-over before ducking out of the room. Leo starts to pack up the duffel bag as Don rubs at his eyes. But as he goes to stand, his leg trembles before he falls back down. Donnie reaches over and catches him by the shell, but not fast enough to spare his elbow from the hard pavement.

“Ow jeez—”

“Are you alright?” Donnie asks, giving him the same overprotective look-over that Raph had given them.

“Um, yeah, I think so. I sorta ran all the way here and I think my perfect body is punishing me for it,” he says with a nervous laugh. Donnie’s eyes widen for a moment and Leo regrets saying anything till Donnie closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, and smiles.

“I’ll help you, dum dum,” he says, standing up and holding his hand out.

Leo smiles and takes it. The two of them are able to pull each other eac hother up to their feet, but as Leo’s legs tremble again, Donnie ducks underneath his arm.

“It’s OK, I got you,'' Donnie says. Leo wants to protest, but he can already feel his sore leg’s relief. So instead of pulling free, he puts Donnie’s arm over his neck as well and the two make their way out of the ruined remains of their former home.

They were not made of gold.

They were made of love.

#rottmnt #rottmnt fanfiction #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #donnie #leo #undercoverwizardninjaturtle #raph #tmnt #trauma #dont even think about it shippers #Raph is in this?! how can it be!#shut up dennis!

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whattraintracks · 2 months

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5. Video Games - Multi

What's this? More Raphael angst? Why are we surprised.

So I was listening to Stay Down by boygenius while some prompts simmered in my brain, and when this one started boiling somewhere around verse two, I knew what I had to do.

Would Raph even like this song? Who knows, but I sure do, so I am going to close-read the heck out of it and draw so many connections.

Video Games >> I'm just steering my life in a video game >> It's a half-life, it's a fallout

before any of you wonder what this has got to do with the prompt, here it is! it's in the song. prompt satisfied

apparently, those are also references to video games

. . .

moving on

Fighting and Learned Behavior >> lean into the punch >> push me down >> hold me under >> stay down

a.k.a. physical altercations as an allegory for Raphael’s life

obsessed with the metaphor of him leaning into a punch

if he can’t avoid life's blows, he'll do what he can to make them hurt less

suffer the hit just to get it over with, or take it for someone else

on a less angsty note, I simply associate Raph with boxing

he's a skilled ninja, but sometimes he wants to sucker-punch someone

cuz this boy really loves fighting, and that ain’t a bad thing

>> wasn't a fighter 'til somebody told me I had better learn >> would you teach me I'm the villain

I think a lot about Raph and learned behavior

when I tell you Rise and '03 Splinter altered my brain chemistry

hiding their connection to the Foot/Hamato Clan

trying to spare their sons from anger, grief, trauma, vengeance, and wars that don't belong to them is fascinating to me

but in every version, he teaches Raph how to fight

and I've talked about how '87 Raphael still inherited those things from Splinter's

even the ones who don’t are still altered by growing up with him, looking at you M&M Raph

it's not a coincidence '12 Splinter sees so much of himself in his son

Defense Mechanism and Love for Enemies >> lean into the punch so it don't hurt as bad when they leave

Raph's anger often screams defense mechanism to me

if humans are going to hate him anyway, again he'll lean into it

be snarky and rude and scary and mean and give them something to really hate

sometimes, his anger is preemptive, but it's not always unfounded

I don't think even ten fingers are enough to count how many times a recurring character turned on the '87 turtles

Raphael should have been allowed to beat up Vernon as consolation

>> there you were, turning your cheek

but wait! there's more! the Christian references in this song are not subtle

Luke 6:27,29 "Love your enemies; do good to those who hate you . . . if anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also"

I'm thinking about '87 Raphael's "Yeah, I'm with ya, but I'm bitter" and helping the guys protect a city that doesn't appreciate all they do

I'm thinking about '03 Raph, who is resolute it's not their problem that the city's at war but gets involved because Leo does

I'm thinking about '07 Raph taking up the Nightwatcher mantle after Leo leaves New York

Disconnection in Personal Relationships >> I look at you and you look at a screen

this second verse, I think, is pretty open to interpretation, which works well given how many variations there are of Raph

linking "screen" to "video game" in the next line, I picture Raph reaching out and being ignored

like '03 Raph figuring his anger out on his own v. Leo getting sent away for serious/professional help

like '07 Raph missing Leo and hearing no word from him for years

or I read "screen" with the connotation of concealment

like Rise Raph keeping it together for his little brothers until he can't

like their shock when he finally breaks down

the loneliness of Raph looking at his brothers and knowing them so well but feeling like they never really see him

>> similar acts and a different name

I am always struck by how similar Raph and his brothers are

the little things they do the same because they were raised together

the ways they deliberately emulate each other

it has to sting seeing so much of them in himself and himself in them and still be reduced to "the angry one"

especially when it's them thinking this way

(side note, Google has this lyric miswritten as "similar accent," which is hilarious in this context)

Loss and Lack of Control >> I'm in the back seat of my body

canon takes great pleasure in depriving Raph of control over his body

how intensely all Raphaels experience their emotions

off-screen and childhood trauma like “Savage Raph” in Rise

on-screen trauma that must lead to dissociation, flashbacks, nightmares, etc.

the two, at least that I know of, mind control events with ‘12 and Rise Raph

even ‘87 Raphael getting de-aged

you could also interpret this as gender dysphoria and I've seen a lot of good trans Raph headcanons

>> I'm just steering my life in a video game

beyond losing control of his body, Raph never really has control of his life

“turtle luck” and all that

this often shows up when their stories shift

like ‘87 Raphael, who goes from a wise guy to a sarcastic grouch as his story drags on and takes a darker turn

as opposed to Rise Raph, who throughout the series, gets talked down from heroism and over-vigilance

but guess which behaviors get rewarded and reinforced during the Shredder arcs and Krang invasion

so as not to ignore the prompt any more than I already have, I do enjoy those episodes where “life in a video game” for Raphael is a little more on the nose

Combat Land (1987), Across the Universe (2003), Mazes and Mutants (2012)

Literally Neurodivergent and a Minor

(Shoutout to this art from @/20s-turtle-posting that inspired the name of this section) ((and, no, I did not realise this is an ironic meme and will be taking it seriously))

>> aren't I the one constantly repenting for a difficult mind? >> push me down into the water like a sinner, hold me under >> villain >> sinner >> half-life >> fallout

I warned you about the religious imagery, but it's a little off in this verse

because repentance is about change as growth

but Raph feels like he has to change his "difficult mind" this ingrained part of himself

so he's stuck in a cycle of remorse and regret, unable to gain control

I think about running fast and far and anguished cries of “what is wrong with me?” (2003)

pushed into and held under, the waters of baptism are no longer cleansing and renewing but suppressing

it's the people closest to him saying “you are seriously twisted” (2012) and “you’ve got a rage problem” (M&M)

and having to decide between hiding those parts of himself or hoping they'll love him anyway

it's Raph feeling bad and broken, feeling like he's a danger and a poison to everyone around him

>> lean into the punch so it don't hurt as bad when they leave >> it takes so long for me to settle down and when I finally do, there's no one else around

and I wonder if Raph's temper is ever tied to feeling unlovable, and one feeling sparks another in a vicious feedback loop

a teenager testing the boundaries of care and affection, more defense mechanisms

how does he get himself to believe in their steadfast love even when he feels unworthy of it

to trust he's safe enough to feel all of his ugliest emotions when his life is so out of control

he forgets, his story doesn’t let him remember, that he’s still a kid

he's got a lot of growing to do, and even if it takes a long time, he’ll settle down one day, find his balance

his family’s gonna stick it out, and they’ll still be around when he finally gets there

tl;dr I will never be able to listen to this song without crying about Raphael now, so thanks, brain.

#march for raph #cw trauma #discussed not shown #it's still the fifth somewhere right?#why did i think a pseudo-essay would be less work/time-consuming than a fic? great question #raphael splinterson #raphael hamato #tmnt #whattrainofthought

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jennafur03 · 10 months

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Season 7 Canon? The Growing Relationship of Buddie in Season 6.

Alright, we are starting with my opinions on Buddie going canon for Season 7 of 911. I think that the writers have been setting up the possibility of Buck and Eddie exploring a romantic relationship since Season 6B. I will explain starting with the lightning strike.

In a Flash: Buck gets struck by lightning in this episode and Eddie seemingly tries to pull him up but has to let him down into Bobby's arms.

The first thing to digest here is Eddie trying to pull him up when it would be easier to let him down. The slight hesitation of Eddie pulling him before putting him down is peculiar. He is more than likely trying this because he wants to save Buck himself. By trying to save Buck himself he is trying to get Buck as close to himself as possible so he can help him. He has to remember that he trusts his team enough to save Buck when he starts to let him down.

If you have seen Grey's Anatomy or any other medical show you might recognize this. For example in Grey's Anatomy when Derek pulls Meredith out of the water he doesn't call for another doctor or EMS worker to assist him in the ambulance, he gives her CPR himself. This a sort of 'technique' TV and movie writers use a lot to show the relationship between the characters. One character feels they need to help the other themself to be in control.

This could be written off as completely platonic, which in hindsight, may have been the intention behind it while being written. It is hard to say for this particular moment, but this is the beginning of the writers hinting towards something for the future.

Another significant event is when Eddie takes over compressions and gets Buck's heart to start again. The way to interpret this is a cliche. It alludes to Buck's heart starting to beat for Eddie. When the ER doctors take over, they say they will do their best.

A quick analysis of the body language of everyone in the room: Hen, Bobby, and Chim have their shoulders down and eyes wide. This is portraying fear and uncertainty. Everyone's stance is somewhat similar, but Eddie is the most forward in the room. He again wants to be involved in saving Buck. Eddie's body language is somewhat different from everyone else's. His shoulders are very slightly raised his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes are squinted. He is not only worried he is angry.

When Buck is wheeled out of view, Eddie lets out a breath and his shoulders seem to fall and relax. As Eddie walks toward Chim to give him a hug, his head is down and his breath is hitched and he starts to cry. This shows that he felt like he had to be strong for Buck. He is not allowing himself to fully break down.

In Another Life: In this episode, Buck is in a coma while healing from the lightning strike. He has a comatose dream about what his life would be like if Daniel had never died.

This episode was a very interesting turn from Eddie and Buck's dynamics. In this episode, Buck realizes his effect on the world through some sort of multi-verse/dimension-type dream. After talking about Bobby suffering from alcoholism, his mind shifts to Eddie. He asks Chim and Hen about Eddie, and they call him "angry guy" because he lost Christopher to a custody battle with his grandparents. Buck's tone of voice shifts when he finds out Christopher is no longer around, and he starts to lean forward to encourage Hen and Chim to speak. Buck's eyebrows furrow, and his face scrunched together. This shows curiosity yet anger before Buck is even aware of what has happened to Christopher. He turns his head as he listens to the story, so he can listen better. This shows his attentiveness to the Diaz family and how much they mean to him. When he hears something bad has happened, he becomes noticeably uncomfortable. This is when he realizes that Eddie needs him just as much as he needs Eddie. Without Buck, Eddie would have lost Christopher--the most important thing to him.

The key point of this episode was how Eddie was not in Buck's coma dream. We did just talk about his revelation that Eddie needed him, but why not show him at all? It is hard to say why because there could be infinite reasons. Is it possible that if Eddie had been in the coma dream Buck wouldn't want to leave? Maybe his subconscious refused to let him see Eddie for fear that he wouldn't want to wake up. If Eddie had been okay in his coma dream, would Buck have stayed?

What is even more curious is the lack of contact that Eddie makes with Buck. Throughout 911 we see a lot of shoulder taps and hugs between them, which are ruled as platonic, so it is weird to not see anything in this episode. Once Buck is in the hospital bed Eddie purposefully keeps his distance. Christopher does not. Christopher goes up to him and touches his arm and tells him he is going to wake up, but Eddie stays silent. His body language is very obviously upset and fearful of what is to come for Buck. He avoids looking directly at Buck in the hospital bed but still sits in support.

When Buck is awake and the 118 comes into the room, Christopher hugs Buck, and Eddie doesn't do anything. Everyone else in the 118 hugged or physically connected with him, so why wouldn't his best friend? He is still afraid to lose him.

Recovery: Despite most of this episode centering around Bobby, Eddie and Buck both make appearances. Maddie sends a schedule to Buck's friends and family to keep an eye on Buck throughout the day. Once Buck learns this he goes to Eddie's house.

The second Buck opens the door he puts his hand out to grab Eddie's attention. This may be seen as a rude gesture or a play to control a situation, however, Eddie looks less offended and more confused. This is not something we see Buck do often (be rude with his body language), so as his eyes shift focus to something else it would be obvious to assume he is processing what just happened. Buck walks in and goes straight to Eddie's couch.

The Couch Theory Unfolds: The couch theory is a theory that was confirmed by the writers and by Oliver Stark. The theory says Buck has less of a material view of couches and more of a personal view. Buck mentions that his last 3 couches came with girlfriends, which Eddie tells him should be the other way around. Buck places a single chair in front of the TV and calls it his couch. After he is struck by lightning, Buck's mother buys him a couch. While trying to get comfortable on this couch he is constantly interrupted by the doorbell.

The significance of Buck not only going straight to Eddie's couch but passing out on his couch is not recognized by either character. Buck passes out almost immediately showing his exhaustion, but more than anything shows his comfort. No matter what couch you have, couches are not the most comfortable thing to sleep on, especially dressed in jeans and sitting upright.

When Buck wakes up he looks curious but not shocked. If you put yourself in his situation, wouldn't you be shocked if you woke up on your best friend's couch? He gets up and meets Eddie in the kitchen. The way Eddie asks him if he still wants a bear and Buck has no problem asking him for water instead shows his level of comfort in his house. He doesn't use please or any other term of politeness because he knows he doesn't have to. Yet he still thanks Eddie for pouring it for him.

While making Christopher's lunch, Eddie looks down on Buck multiple times. He is assessing Buck's body language and telling him to go ahead and speak. While speaking about Eddie getting shot, Buck tilts his head multiple times to listen to Eddie better and keeps his arms crossed in a position of comfort.

All of these points show the growing relationship between Buck and Eddie happening off-screen. They are completely comfortable around each other and can read each other like a book. This is starting to blur the lines between their bromance and an actual romance. The feeling you could obtain from these scenes is a domestic type. If the scene was reshot and Buck and Eddie had hugged or made physical contact, any outsider watching would assume they were dating.

Mixed Feelings: The title of this episode alone is ironic if you think in terms of Buck and Eddie. We see the same domestic-type situation we saw in the last episode. Buck, Eddie, and Christopher sitting at a table together doing math homework.

Buck's body language in this scene is relaxed and pushed forward. He engages with Eddie and Chris carelessly and naturally. Eddie's body language is more upright but still relaxed. He looks at his phone, but he still engages with Buck. Something to note about their interaction is the inability to hold eye contact. Their eyes shift around the room while talking more than once. This may be a direct choice of the actors or an unconscious choice. Finally, Buck smiles in adoration as Eddie plays with Christopher, but he only looks at Eddie while he smiles and not between the two. Normally while you look at someone in adoration you would look at the child and not the parent.

While playing poker, Captain Mehta mentions how after people get struck by lighting they can develop new abilities. Buck immediately looks to Eddie for approval before settling down when she mentions counting. It was interesting to see because Eddie immediately folds to take the attention off Buck. After he folds, Buck looks down and smiles before continuing. He almost shows a feeling of fluster or of timidness while looking down. While Buck plays, Eddie stands off to the side and looks fondly at Buck. After he wins, Buck once again looks to Eddie for approval on how they want their winnings, and Eddie's smile grows.

Eddie's body language in this scene is protective yet admiring as he stands over Buck. He stands directly behind Buck, but a few feet behind. His face while looking at Buck turns into a half smile, but when Buck looks at him turns into a full smile. He looks at Buck multiple times through the scene, in a protective manner. He is trying to make sure he is alright--as they are doing something illegal.

The irony in the title of this episode is that mixed feelings are not obvious in Buck and Eddie's storyline for this episode. The significance is 911 is very good at making their titles match every storyline. Like in Recovery, Buck is recovering physically and Bobby's storyline is about his friend in AA--a recovery program--who died. So why do mixed feelings not make sense for Eddie and Buck? The reason may be underlying and not direct. The fondness of both characters in the episode may be mixed feelings.

We see these feelings of fondness in earlier seasons, but things may be finally shifting from platonic to romantic fondness.

Performance Anxiety-Pay It Forward: These episodes all have the same theme in common: Eddie and Buck re-emerge into the dating scene. Eddie gets set up by his aunt, while Buck meets a death doula at a scene.

The crazy thing about these relationships is how similar they are. Eddie gets set up by his aunt and things don't really work out, so they pretend they didn't click. Then Eddie meets Marisol at a scene and they meet again at a hardware store. Buck meets Natalia (the death doula) at a scene where she admits she is attracted to how Buck died for 3 minutes. She does not appear until Love Is In the Air.

Not only are these relationships similar at face value, but they also start to develop very close to each other. What would be the point in making Buck and Eddie date at the same time? To get people to talk about it. The writers know that Buddie shippers wanted Buck and Eddie together at the end of Season 6, and they could have positioned it that way, but they didn't. If the writers have any intent in making Buddie happen, they have just sent up the perfect storyline.

Buck and Eddie are dating separate people, but their relationships are missing something. They're missing the domestic, protective, fond feeling that the two of them are shown to have together in the past few episodes.

Not to mention that the number of scenes between Buck and Eddie in these five episodes is significantly less than we saw in the three before it. If the writers wanted to start setting up a relationship between the two, it would be at the start of season seven. The themes being set up are what usually happens at the start of a romantic interest in characters.

Domestic: They start hanging out more and feeling more comfortable and free to be themselves around the other.

Protective: They want the other to be okay, no matter the situation, so they feel the need to help and protect the other themself if they have to.

Fondness: The relaxed faces while looking at the other are a sign on TV of love. The smile while the other is not looking. Normally smiles are meant for when someone else is looking, so smiling while they are not means they are smiling for themself.

It would be easy for the writers to continue to play off these feelings as platonic, but why would they set up these scenes between them just to rule them as platonic in the end? We won't know until next season, but it is more than fun to speculate.

A/N: I know this was long as fuck (especially for my first post) so if you are reading this ur awesome! Anyways let me know in the comments if u disagree or agree with what I said or if I missed anything super big. The psychology stuff is what I have read from a book on body language and dark psychology. Hopefully, that was accurate. Have a good day and I am sorry about any misspellings.

#buddie #911 fox #911 speculation #911 show #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #eddie diaz #christopher diaz #buddie 911 #911 season 7 #buckley diaz family #buddie canon

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