#this was meant to be a blurb

[deunmiu-dessie]

boyfriend!ghost who's just a little bit older. boyfriend!ghost who wears a black leather jacket. boyfriend!ghost who has a bad reputation. boyfriend!ghost who uses you to warm his bed. readers!mama who doesn't trust him. readers! mama who says, "he's only here for one thing," but, so are you. ˙ᵕ˙

"s'too big, si--!! wait!"

simon grips your chin and turns your head to face him, pressing a kiss to your pouty lips, thick cock spearing through your slick, gummy walls, his pierced tip nudging your spongey nerves. “you were jus' begging me earlier, hm? does it feel good sweetheart?”

your dripping cunt clings to him, a creamy ring of cum starting to form on his cock. you whine, lips parting and thighs shaking. your voice fails you, his cock bullying your cervix and punching the words from your throat, only a shamefully loud moan escapes your trembling lips.

simon snickers and covers your mouth with his hand. "don' want y'r mum to hear, do we?"

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

connected with this post!

[pucksandpower]

Can I vent for a second? I never want to be one of those people who tries to dictate what others should write … but this is a huge pet peeve of mine.

Y/N is not the first female driver in Formula 1.

Maria Teresa de Filippis, Lella Lombardi, Divina Galica, Desiré Wilson, and Giovanna Amati did not put their blood, sweat, and tears into breaking barriers in real life only to be erased in fanfiction.

Y/N can be the first female driver in decades. Y/N can be the first female driver to race for a particular team. Y/N can be the first female driver to earn at least one point. Y/N can be the first female driver to stand on the podium. Y/N can be the first female driver to win.

But she is not the first female driver in Formula 1.

Don’t take that away from the real women who sacrificed so much to do what many deemed impossible.

[usedtobecooler]

hands on you | steve harrington x fem!reader

Pairing | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings | sexual content 18+ minors dni, unprotected piv sex, vaginal fingering, mutual masturbation, size kink, dirty talk. big dick harrington making his return.

Word Count | 2.3k

A/N | nobody say a damn word. not a damn word. dedicated to @loveshotzz <3

“That… Jesus, Steve,” You’re looking at him — or moreso, it — with a morbid curiosity and wide eyes.

His cock hangs heavy over his tummy, weighed down by its own sheer size, flushed a needy dark pink at the tip and curved ever so slightly to the right, “Babe, how has any girl ever taken that?” 

And it’s really a genuine, valid question to ask. He’s so big it makes your mouth water and your pussy clench, though it niggles in the back of your head that he’s guaranteed to be such a stretch. Your hand lays on his thigh, caressing the tan, toned flesh under your biting nails, and you choose to ignore the way he’s hissing from such a simple touch.

“Nobody has, honey,” Steve answers honestly, looking down with blown out eyes as your hand inches closer, backs of your knuckles brushing over his heavy sack, “I mean, I've — I've obviously had sex before, that’s a given. Just that I've had to stop halfway, ‘cause it hurts them.”

“Fuck,” You mutter to yourself, ghosting your fingertips up the length of his shaft until it’s kicking up under your touch, a blurt of precum spilling from his slit, pooling into the dip of his bellybutton, “You’re real sensitive.” 

Your voice is breathy, strangled in your throat and Steve whimpers, hips canting up when you wrap your hand loosely around the tip, thumb smearing through the mess he’s making. Your touch is gone as fast as it’s there, pressing your thumb into your mouth like it’s nothing — he tastes nice, almost. Like he clearly drinks water, which is more than you could say for most men.

“Please, honey,” Steve begs, watching you with lust blown eyes as you smack your lips together, savouring him in your mouth, “Y’gonna let me fuck you? I'll be so gentle, promise.” 

You think it over — you don’t want him to be gentle. You want him to pin you down and make you take it, fill you up until he’s nestled in your fucking guts and spilling his load so deep you can almost taste it in the back of your throat. But you’re not stupid, you’re clearly not ready for that. Not yet.

He’s disheveled looking as he leans back on his mountain of pillows, lazily sat with you between his spread thighs. He lost all of his clothes long ago, and you’re only sitting in your underwear, the state you’re both in is a clear expectation that you were anticipating sitting on his cock and riding him til the cows came home. 

��Gentle or not, Harrington,” You start, maneuvering yourself so you can tuck your legs under his thighs, spreading yourself wide and showing off the obvious wet patch on your silky underwear, “M’gonna need to prepare for taking that monster.”

Steve's not even looking at you, fully focused on the way you’re sliding your panties to the side and exposing your needy cunt to the warm air in his room — you’re soaked, folds glistening under the light as you spread them with your fingers.

He makes a noise, large hand coming out to grip at the base of his cock and squeeze, relieving an ache — he’s barely covering half of his length, your gut churns at that knowledge —, “‘M I not gonna get to touch you at least?” He asks, jerking himself slowly as he watches you in an almost trance-like state, the tips of your middle and ring fingers dipping into your slick entrance and breaching.

It’s not that you don’t want him to touch you, of course you fucking do. but watching him touch himself over you touching yourself is making your tummy quiver, “Patience, baby.”

“Fuck, okay,” Steve’s lazy with it, jerking his cock at a slow pace as you finally sink your fingers into yourself, a quiet moan pulling from your chest as you do it. You can’t stop watching him touching himself, clearly going slow with it so that he doesn’t blow his load before he gets to fuck you.

You’re so close together that the back of your wrist is brushing Steve's heavy balls with every slick glide of your fingers in and out of your gushing pussy, and it’s eliciting the prettiest noises from him. a flush of heat washes over you, tummy muscles clenching when the pad of your middle finger just barely catches on that sweet sensitive spot inside. 

“Feel good?” Steve's voice is breathy, almost desperate as his eyes finally flitter up to yours, ripped away from the sight of your cunt pulsing and gushing around your fingers. He's squeezing the base of his cock again, in a desperate attempt to stop working himself up too quickly.

“It —,” You start, gasping when Steve adjusts his leg on top of yours and you’re suddenly hyper aware of his skin on yours, “My fingers are just a little short.” 

You don’t even need to ask, Steve's up on his knees and pushing into your space before you can even comprehend it. His cock merely brushes the inside of your thigh and you both moan, the head catching on your flushed skin and smearing wet in its wake. 

“Let me?” Steve's voice is barely above a whisper, hand coming up to brush his unruly hair out of his face. It’s hotter than you’d care to admit to, with his pretty pink lips hung open, watching you intently as you slip your fingers out of yourself fully, the sickening squelch making you both shudder.

You lean back on both hands, Steve's hovering so close over the top of you that his breath is hitting your face, fingers grazing up the inside of your thigh until he’s hitting your hot, wet folds. Two fingers swirl just barely over your clit, enough to punch a moan out of you, fingertips grappling on his comforter, before he’s sinking the same two fingers into your cunt, all the way to the hilt.

“Oh fuck,” You gasp, steve’s expert fingers crooking up into that spot you couldn’t quite catch and past it, rubbing at the spongyness until your hips are canting up. The leaky tip of his cock presses into the meat of your leg, a reminder it’s there, and it only makes you moan louder, hips rocking into Steve's hand.

“You’re so tight around my fingers, fuck,” Steve comments, watching between both of your bodies as your pussy swallows his fingers, clenching and fluttering on them — the slick slide is deafening in your ears, winding you up further.

His thumb swipes at your clit and it makes your eyes roll, the assault on your g-spot becoming almost too much, the heat in your tummy blooming quickly. 

“You gonna cum for me?” Steve's grinning, leaning his forehead on yours, fingers speeding up ever so slightly, pads running in circles until you’re panting and crying out, “Can feel you gripping me, honey. C’mon, let me feel you cum.” 

Your eyes squeeze tight as the blooming heat bursts into flames, a cry of his name leaving your lips as euphoria spreads through your entire body. You feel your cunt pulsing sporadically around Steve’s fingers, gushing wet and soaking the sheets as he fucks you through it, fingers slowing down until they’re almost at a stop. 

Suddenly, the overwhelming desire to have Steve fill you up with his cock is clouding your brain, blurring your eyes at the edges. You can feel him, hot and heavy, brushing so close to your cunt it’s dizzying, “Need you to fuck me, steve. please?”

Steve's brows pull together, he’d clearly forgotten about his own needs and desires in favor of yours and that only makes you want him all the more, “You sure, honey? You’re gonna be so sensitive, can you handle me?” 

His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, but you moan, all high pitched and needy, “C’mon, Steve. Fuck me like you mean it.”

And who would Steve be to refuse you that? He gently nudges you down onto your back until you’re laid flat, pulling your shaking legs up until your knees are bent up.

You can feel the head of his cock snagging ever so slightly on your puffy cunt, still sopping wet and no doubt drenching him in your release. Your tummy quivers in anticipation.

He sighs, shaky, as he grips at the base of his cock blindly, unable to take his eyes off of yours, like he’s searching for a definite answer. You nod, another go ahead, and his cock properly presses at your entrance, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

He’s. Well, he’s fucking big. The first few inches slip into you and punch a ragged moan from you, eyes squeezing shut as you beg your body to relax for him.

“Hey, hey,” Steve’s voice catches you off guard, his other hand grabbing for yours and lacing your fingers together at the side of your head, “If it doesn’t feel good, tell me to stop.”

“Don’t fucking stop,” You gasp, squeezing his hand. It’s not a bad burn, it feels fucking good. Teeters on the edge of too much, but the right edge. 

“Oh thank god,” Steve chuckles a little, pushing in another inch and your pussy clenches instinctively, choking his cock, “Honey, I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.” 

You giggle, the movement causing your cunt to flutter around him and he moans properly this time, rutting into you another inch or two, filling you out. 

Steve’s hand that was on his cock suddenly grips at your hip, as he bottoms out with a low growl, you feel it rumble up his chest, “You’re so — so fucking tight, warm,” Steve grits his teeth, pushing his hips forward to make it obvious that he’s fully sheathed in you, his heavy balls pressing tight to your ass.

You feel. Full. Ridiculously full. He’s hitting everywhere inside of you, the curve of his cock pressing into all the right spots, thatch of dark pubes brushing against your sensitive clit. 

His hand laced with yours grounds you, helps you relax and settle into it quickly, his chest flush to yours and pressing you down helps, too. 

Your eyelids flutter when he ruts into you again, reminding you of the size of him, “Move, Steve, need you to fuck me, yeah?” 

Steve grunts, pulling out just a few inches and pushing back in, eyes rolling as the wet heat of your cunt invites him back in, “Think your pussy likes me being here, honey.” 

You cry out at that, pussy spasming. You’re at a loss for words, the only thing on your mind is how Steve invades all of your senses. He leans down, kisses at the expanse of your neck as he sets a good rhythm. You feel every ridge of him, pushing so deep you swear you feel him in your guts.

“Hear that?” He mutters against your flushed, damp skin as he fucks you properly now, knocking the breath from you with every harsh thrust, “She loves me, baby. Loves my big cock, fuck.” 

Of course you can fucking hear it, the way your cunt is gushing, sloppy and soaking for him, more and more leaking around his shaft as he assaults your frontal wall. You whine, loud and beggy, fingernails digging into Steve’s hand where they’re still interlaced at the side of your head.

“Taking me so good, honey. Can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” Steve groans, pace quickening as he chases his high — you’re not far behind, the constant press to your spongey spot and the occasional catch of your clit against his pubic bone is getting you there fast.

It’s so fucking hot, the way he speaks to you. Your body is alight with need and want, “Keep talking, Steve. G’nna cum,” You breathe, leg tightening around the base of his back, heel of your foot pushing into his ass.

“Yeah?” Steve grins into your collarbone, you feel it against your flushed skin, “Cumming when you’re full on my big cock? Fuck, c’mon, show me how much she loves me. She’s so greedy, honey.”

Your cunt grips him like a vice, that same blooming feeling from earlier back with a vengeance as you reach the end — it’s so hard to think, with him pressing so deep and rough. You nod, whining and crying out, “Fuckfuckfuck, ohmygod —!” 

Your vision blurs at the edges, knocked dizzy and sick with it when your orgasm washes over you like tidal waves, fingertips digging into the back of Steve’s hand until he’s hissing and groaning, fucking you through it with a harsh snap of his hips.

“That’s it, so fucking tight,” Steve grunts, picking up speed and rutting into you until you’re practically screaming, “Gonna cum in you, fill you up with it, oh fuck —”

His hips still suddenly as he pushes his face into your neck and cums with a low grunt of your name. You feel every bit of his release shooting deep inside you, every pulse of his cock. Your walls flutter around him and he hisses in retaliation, smacking your hip gently. 

He collapses on top of you after that, entire body spent. You can’t find it in you to care, as his cock softens slowly — you feel his cum spilling out of you, though you’re half asleep and struggling to comprehend it.

Your attention only piques when you feel fingertips at your puffy, used entrance, pushing the liquid back into your weeping hole.

It’s disturbing how ready you are for Steve, when he fucks himself back into you not long after.

[httpiastri]

paul aron x reader, 18+

"you've made quite the mess here, love."

a scoff slips past your lips, a look of feigned offense appearing on your face. "me?" you exclaim, shaking your head. "i think you're just as guilty as i am."

"possibly," paul answers with a shrug. "but you were the one who looked so irresistible that i couldn't wait until we got back home." his hands move from your hips up to cup your cheeks, guiding your face down to his height and pressing a kiss to your forehead. "now, i think you should slip off me so i can clean you up properly."

he leans over to the passenger's seat, pulling open the glove compartment and grabbing a box of tissues. "what if i want to stay here forever?"

he shakes his head, looking down with a grin as he pulls a few tissues out of the box. "you're a mess. i can buy new pants, sure, but…" his other hand lands on your hip again, giving you a few pats. "i can't have you leaking on the seats."

this has you rolling your eyes. however, you place your hands on his shoulders, beginning to slide off his length. "of course, your dear porsche. how could i forget?"

"oh, don't pout," he says, a hint of that teasing smile still on his lips as he starts wiping at the inside of your thighs. "you know i love you both equally."

you press your lips into a straight line, just staring at him silently for a few moments. "glad to know i'm equal to a car."

"to a porsche," he's quick to correct, grin growing bigger by the second. "now, come on and sit back a little so i can clean you up properly."

you let out an exaggerated sigh but oblige, tilting your hips slightly so that he can reach between your legs to wipe away some of your combined juices. he's so gentle, a bit of a contrast to how he acted mere minutes ago when he thrusted up into you, and he really takes his time to make sure to get every last drop with the tissues.

"you know i'm just kidding, right?"

most of the time, paul hides behind this tough, cold and careless exterior – but you know better than that. you know about the gentle, warm and loving person hiding beneath that mask; the boy who needs to be reassured even in moments of clear jest such as this one.

he visibly relaxes when you nod, putting aside the used tissues into the little trashcan he keeps on the floor of the backseat. "just wanted to make sure," he mumbles, partially to himself, before taking a deep breath. "you're the most important thing in my life. and i love you so much."

his hand meets your cheek again, tilting your head to the side before pressing a sweet kiss to the sensitive spot below your ear. "i love you so much, too," you respond easily.

"good." his fingers move up to brush a few loose pieces of hair out of your eyes. "because no matter what, i'm completely and utterly yours. no matter how much i may fawn over my porsche."

"well, i mean… i understand it." you shrug. "you didn't pay hundreds of thousands for me…"

"right? you see my point, don't you?"

[ribbononline]

frye fits i might as well share since i doubt ill do anything w em

[imaredshirt]

Post Weirdmageddon, Stanley continues to recover his memories. It's a gradual process, one that he sometimes gets frustrated with, but he's surrounded with a support system of friends and family that are more than happy to help.

Every so often, Stanford checks in with Fiddleford, who's a few steps ahead of Stanley in the memory recovery process and is an invaluable resource of knowledge and helpful tips. The fact that he invented the memory gun also helps, of course, and although he won't ever rebuild the thing, he has been studying the old one and just how it affects the mind.

During these calls between old friends/colleagues, Fiddleford will casually ask after Stanley's progress and general wellbeing, and Stanford will relay a summary of Stanley's most recent recovered memories.

One day over the phone, Fiddleford says, "So we know Stanley's recovered much of his childhood memories, some of his early twenties, and he's able to recall quite a bit of the past several years. Has he, ah, mentioned anything 'bout his time in the '80s? When he first started runnin the Mystery Shack and workin on the portal?"

"Not that I know of," Stanford answers. "I'll ask the kids. If he's mentioned anything to them, then Dipper's already added it to his notes." He frowns. "Should we be worried that he hasn't recalled anything from that period in his life, yet?"

"No, no," Fiddleford says. "At least, I don't think so. This all seems to be a sort of non-linear recovery process. Sorta like a stack o' cards that's fallen on the floor all mixed up and on top of each other, and he's pickin up the ones on the top layer, completely outta order. For all we know, this could be the card he picks up last." He pauses and clears his throat. "But if he does start mentioning anythin from that time - anythin at all from events to sensory memories or, uh, people - you be sure to let me know. I'd like to add it to my notes."

He sounds almost too casual. Stanford doesn't want to doubt his friend after all this time, but he vividly remembers what Fiddleford sounds like when he's trying to be sneaky, and he sounds like it right now. So much as he doesn't want to be, Stanford's suspicious.

He's just not quite sure what to be suspicious of.

He files the suspicion away for later. "You got it, old buddy."

"Well alrighty then! I'll call again tomorrow to check on today's progress. And why don't you order him an egg and sausage omelet from Greasy's? The one with all that cheese on top - but no mushrooms. He hates those. His favorite foods might jog his memories a bit."

Stanford blinks. "We were actually thinking of doing that. But how do you -?"

Fiddleford hangs up.

Stanford's still blinking at the phone, frowning, when Stanley walks up behind him.

"Hey, who was that?" Stanley asks. "Why do you look like someone just gave you a math problem you can't solve?"

"There are very few of those left in the universe," Stanford says, only half joking, and smiles when Stanley rolls his eyes, chuckling.

"Yeah, yeah, my brother the genius - whatever. Look, since you're on the phone already, why dontcha call up Fidds and tell him to pick up some pizza. If the kids are hungry, then you know I'm starving."

"Alright, but no broccoli pizza this time, I --" Stanford freezes. "Wait. Fidds?"

"Yeah, he's not in the shack or out back, so he's gotta be out in town, right?"

There's only one person that "Fidds" can be, but Stanford hasn't heard anyone use Fiddleford's nickname since college. He raises an eyebrow at Stanley, who's relaxing back in his recliner.

"Fidds, Stanley?"

"Yeah," Stanley says, raising an eyebrow back at his brother. "You know, your nerdy buddy? Scrawny guy with an accent? Helped me out with the portal right after you got stuck in it--"

"What?" Stanford's never heard about this. From either of them.

Stanley goes on, "Can't fight off a gnome to save his life but builds a giant crazy gnome robot anyway - whaat? Why're you looking at me like that?" Stanley sits up and his confusion becomes anger, almost startling Stanford out of his shocked state. "What, now that I'm getting all these memories back, you're uncomfortable?"

Stanford has no idea what he's talking about. "What? Uncomfortable with what?"

"With your college buddy shacking up with your twin brother," Stanley snaps. "We've been together for years. Maybe you should get over it, huh?"

"Get over it?" Stanford's reeling. Fiddleford's strangeness suddenly makes sense. "Stanley, I would never - I would accept you however you - I'm not straight, either, you know, and - wait." He holds up one hand and pinches the bridge of his nose with the other. "Before we even get into that - WHAT?"

Stanley blinks. "What??"

"You - you and - when did you-" Stanford throws his hands in the air. "He doesn't live here!"

"What?" Stanley snorts. "Yeah he does. I told him to move in."

"When?"

"Back in the '80s," Stanley says. "I just started remembering this morning. Where's be been, anyway? Why hasn't he been doing nerdy shit with you in the lab lately?"

Stanford's leaning against the sofa's armrest, mind racing. He answers distractedly, "We haven't been in the lab together since before you came to Gravity Falls, Stanley."

"Bull. You expect me to believe you two aren't cooking up some science project already?"

"Stanley..."

"What," Stanley says. Then he grins. "Are you the one with messed up memories now or what? Jeez, I got a better memory than my genius brother - and I've been hit with the memory gun twice!"

"Twice?" Stanford turns a sharp look on his brother. "What do you mean, twice?"

"Yeah. That one time when you used it on me, and then back in the '90s when Fidds . . ."

Stanley trails off. He blinks and then frowns, gaze falling to the floor as he mutters, "Back when Fidds . . . when he used it on me the first time, and. . ."

Realization dawns on them both at once, and Stanley looks at Stanford with an odd mix of emotions.

"Stanley," Stanford says in an effort to calm him. "What exactly do you remember of-"

"Who cares!" Stanley jumps to his feet, hands clenched into fists at his sides. "He used that thing on me! When I told him not to - when I asked - begged -" Stanley punches the wall and glares at the splinters littering his knuckles. His voice is shaking. "After everything we went through - he just took off 'cause he was, what, scared? Do you have any idea how much I've forgotten? Who knows if I'm gonna remember any of it? I didn't want him to leave! And after he did and used the gun, I - I was so broken and angry I didn't know why, couldn't remember why--"

With a growl, Stanley grabs the car keys from the little bowl by the TV and stomps towards the front door. "Get in the car. I've got a bone to pick with your old college buddy."

Stanford grabs his journal and hurries after his brother, calling for the kids as they head to the car. They're all likely going to be at Fiddleford's new mansion for some time.

He certainly has a bit of explaining to do.

[sinofwriting]

Else - Pepe Marti

Words: 1,030 Word Prompt: First Kiss

Masterlist | Support Me! | Sin's Sept. Blurbs

Pepe’s eyes open slowly, a view of white greeting him that makes him blink more, trying to clear his vision until he realizes that it’s the ceiling. It’s then as well that he realizes there’s a soft voice speaking, the words are quiet, soft, and are in tandem with fingers carding through his hair.

He tries to speak but nothing comes out, throat and tongue dry. It makes him pout and he tries to lift his hand, but it’s being held. Lifting the other hand, he stares at his fingers wiggling.

“Pepe?” His head turns towards the voice and he finds himself blinking again. She’s so pretty, he thinks, mouth hanging open a bit. There’s a small smile on her face and as his eyes drift down, they catch on her arms. Warmth fills him, she was the one holding his hand. And as she speaks again, he recognizes her voice as the soft one that had been speaking to him.

“You're the best.” He manages to say, throat still dry but able to now say something. “Best girlfriend.” And he can feel his smile turn dopey as he says the word girlfriend. He didn’t know why he was in the hospital or how he managed to get such a pretty girlfriend, but he was happy she was there. Her eyebrows furrow, smile dimming to a frown and he can feel his heart squeeze inside his chest. “Pepe, are you okay?” “Yeah,” he breathes, trying to reach for her with his other hand, but it lands just a few inches shy of their already joined hands. “You’re here, I’m great.” Her eyes widen, throat clearing, and he just knows she’s embarrassed.

“It’s okay, baby. I’m okay.” His hand finally cooperates and he pats her hand. “I know, I’m here, but I’m okay.” His eyebrows then furrow, “I am okay?” She nods quickly, fingers running through his hair again before they stop and her hand is dropping into her lap, he doesn’t try to stifle his whine at the loss of contact. “You're okay, Pepe. Your appendix had to get taken out, but it went well. I need to call the nurse in to check on you.” “Wait.” He manages to grab her hand before she can press the button. He smiles at her, eyes dancing. “Give me a kiss first?” A small gasp leaves her and she shakes her head. “Pepe, we aren’t,” He interrupts her, “I just want one kiss from my girlfriend before the nurse comes here.” “I’m not your girlfriend though, we’re just best friends.” The words are slurred together. His eyes narrow at her, “Baby,” he tugs at her hand. “That’s not a funny joke. I’m sorry if I scared you with the surgery, but I’m okay. It’s common enough.” “Pepe, I,” She stops, lips thinning as they press together and she sighs.

“You're right that wasn’t funny and I was really scared.” her voice grows a little quiet. “Oh, baby.” He squeezes her hands, “I’m alright really. I’m all okay.” “I’ve just,” her breath hitches, “I’ve never seen you in that much pain before.” He wants to caress her face, but doesn’t want to risk hitting her, so he squeezes her hands again. “I’m okay now though. And hopefully I won’t be in pain like that ever again.” She nods, a tiny smile on her face now.

“Can I have my kiss now?” Her mouth drops open and he tugs at her hands. “Please. Just a small one?” She stares at him for a few seconds before giving a small nod and he instantly beams.

As she leans forward, his eyes flutter shut, his breath catching as he waits to feel her kiss him. And then he just barely feels her lips brush the corner of his mouth and then his hands are empty and cold.

“Let’s get the nurse in here now.”

—

He’s barely been awake a minute and his face feels like it’s burning hot as he remembers mistaking his best friend, his best friend of nearly fifteen years, for his girlfriend. And something in him aches as well, because he wishes she was his girlfriend, but that was never going to happen after that, not that he thought she’d ever give him a chance but after all of that. He’ll be surprised if she continues to join him during race weekends.

He manipulated her into kissing him. His gut twists at the thought.

“How are you feeling?” “A bit tender.” His voice is quiet, eyes staying on the ceiling. “Do you want me to call the nurse?” He shakes his head. “No, just tugs a bit when I move.” Something he had mistakenly done when he woke up. “Okay.”

The meekness in her voice makes his head turn and apologies rush past his lips. “I’m so sorry for earlier. For thinking you were my girlfriend, scaring you, and making you kiss me. Me being loopy doesn’t excuse it either.” He adds when he notices her begin to open her mouth. “It’s,” she pauses trying to think. “It’s okay. You did scare me, but you never meant to and I’m sorry as well. I should have never kissed you. That was wrong of me on so many levels.” He shakes his head, feeling grim. “We both know that I wouldn’t have let you call the nurse until you kissed me. I out stubborn you every time.” She huffs out a laugh and he can’t help but smile at the sound.

“I,” He looks at her, watching as nerves play out in her body language, but her expression is determination. “One of the reasons I shouldn’t have kissed you is because that’s not how I wanted our first kiss to go.” “What?” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip for a second. “It’s just not how I thought our first kiss would go.” “How did you think it would go?” His words are a bit breathless. “Well, you would have wanted to kiss me, not someone else.” “I did want to kiss you.” Her eyes widen at his words. “I just thought you were something else, not someone else.” “Pepe.” He smiles, “C’mere baby.”

[satorhime]

໒꒰ྀི ˊ͈ 𐦫 ˋ͈ ꒱ྀིა ━ instead of gojo’s daughter forcing him into playing with her, he is the one who seeks her out. he quickly becomes obsessed with the little scenarios they play out, the way her imagination is just as overactive as his own is. he’s not a sorcerer then, just a dad getting bad service at his little girl’s pretend-cafe, a big goofy smile on his face even though the plastic of the tiny chairs digs into his back uncomfortably. you literally have to tell him to give her some space because she’ll be minding her business, watching a cartoon or doing homework and he’ll plop on down in front of her with an assortment of colorful nail polishes and beg her to paint his nails because he just loves spending time with his little baby girl omgie :(

[seiwas]

SEL MY SEL …….. crawling over here for the ask game …………… you already know . who i’m going to ask for phdkdjdkdb IN MY DEFENSE I WILL NEVER GET OVER YOUR VERSION OF HIM !!!!!!!

….. sugu ….. with ’sun’ ……. maybe 👉👈

(🍵 <- a little matcha for your troubles … good luck with the writing exercises my loveee <33 i’m cheering you on!!!)

ARI 🥹🥹🥹🥹 hehe ofc i shall write sugu for u! writing him is always so fun 🥹 thank you for the prompt, and for the matcha!! i will be sipping it as i write this 🥹 it is not a trouble at alllll!! esp if it's for youuuuu 🫶

contains: beautiful, gorgeous, sexy neighbor suguru, mood can be a bit unsettling... honestly a little stockholm syndrome-y (does this count as dark? idk 😭), skewed concept of reality and time

suguru + sun

you move into a new neighborhood on your 24th birthday.

it's a quaint house, fully furnished with wooden panels lining its contemporary build. you consider yourself lucky for finding a place this well-kept at the price point you offered. you're honestly surprised that suguru, your now landlord, accepted your application.

the area sits a few kilometers on the outskirts of the city, but it feels neither too quiet nor too busy; a perfect balance with an impressive view of the rising sun this early in the morning. that, and the people seem friendly, greeting you as they pass by. they even offer to help you haul things out of your car and into the house.

to the right of your house is one that holds the same design elements at yours, although a bit darker in its tones. it's sleek and modern, befitting of a bachelor.

"you must be the new tenant," a voice speaks from behind you, syrupy and smooth. you didn't even hear his footsteps.

when you turn around, you're met with a tall man who greets you with his arms held behind his back as he tilts his head low. there's a calmness that radiates off him, a sort of gentleness that signals he’s someone you can trust.

you nod, introducing yourself with your hand outstretched towards him.

"suguru," he replies as his fingers grab yours delicately. your eyes widen in surprise, recognizing the name, and he merely chuckles in return, a soft laugh that brings out kindness in his eyes.

"i should greet you properly," he lets go of your hand, placing it back behind him. "hello, new neighbor."

.

over shared breakfasts by your porch and impromptu dinners over at his, you grow a liking to suguru. he's polite and thoughtful, often knocking at your door in the mornings to offer you a cup of tea to watch the sunrise.

"you'll only find sunrises like this here," he leans back on the wooden chair you set out as outdoor furniture. his head tilts towards you slightly, impossibly close as you notice the corner of his lips curl up into a small grin.

hues of pinks, purples, and orange blend to illuminate his face perfectly. the sun is beautiful in front you, peeking between clouds as it inches away from the horizon, but something about him is infinitely more magnetic. your stare is immediately drawn to his lips, smooth and supple, before it meets his gaze.

you don't know what's worse―wanting to lean in or be pulled by the look in his eyes.

he fixes things that break in your home, always somehow knowing just when to show up. at first, it was your windows, the one by the attic, too high and dangerous for you to climb; then, it was your kitchen sink, its pipes regurgitating the water going down the drain. he's begun to bring you your groceries too, often asking for a list of what you need when he makes trips out of town.

your days blur easily when you're with suguru, and time passes almost fleetingly as you find your hours filled with soft laughs and touches so delicate you sometimes wonder whether they're real.

it should be noted, you think, how much time has passed since you first met him―an anniversary of some sort.

.

you learn that he owns both houses―his and the one you're currently renting. it once belonged to a friend who had to move for bigger, greater responsibilities elsewhere, he'd said.

"why did you decide on renting?" you ask him one night, over wine and candlelight.

your fingers fiddle with his as he sits you on his lap, this thing between you growing more intimate lately. he rubs his thumb along your thigh, resting his chin by your shoulder.

"you could have sold it or something."

he presses his lips gently on your collarbone.

"i could've," his fingers trail up to your waist, crossing your chest before landing on your chin, cupping it lightly to face him. your heart is hammering in your chest, senses on fire as his nose kisses yours. you think you can count every mole that dots his face beautiful. then, he inches closer, lips grazing yours as he whispers, "but i was waiting for you."

.

you mark each day at sunrise.

your digital clocks and calendars stopped working after some time, but you don't mind. suguru always tells you what date it is when you ask.

this morning, you wake up in his bed, and the sun is still as breathtaking as you remember it, the same pink, purple, and orange hues streaming through his window. when you look closely, the clouds―

"good morning," he brings you tea in bed, his hair topped off with a bun, a half-up-half-down.

your stomach fills itself with something warm and fuzzy as you smile at him, "morning."

"slept well?" his hand reaches for your waist under the duvet, and you giggle, ticklish.

"very," you crane your neck to land a soft kiss on his lips. "what date is it today?"

"october 28," he supplies.

your eyebrows shoot up as you realize, "i have to bring my car to the mechanic."

it's been 6 months now since your last check, right before you moved, and though you barely use your car anyway, it's best to be safe.

you quickly move to get up but suguru's hand keeps you in place, firmly pressed on your waist.

"i'll do it," he says with a smile on his face, "you rest here."

.

you barely see your other neighbors except for the girl who smokes a pack of cigarettes a day and the twins down the street.

when you ask suguru about it, he dismisses the question quickly, saying, "must have moved," as he urges you to take another sip of your tea.

you dream of them that night, on bare streets; it wakes you in a cold sweat, the image of your neighborhood reduced to just your house and suguru's.

.

this is the 200th sunrise since you started counting, which means this is the 200th day since you and suguru officially got together. kind of.

your gift for him is a painting of the sunrise, because it reminds you of him; and because it's become your favorite thing to look forward to, too.

the pinks and purples blend together beautifully as it contrasts with the orange hues, and the sun continues to peak above the horizon as it settles between clouds.

suguru kisses you when you give it to him, the taste of tea right on his tongue.

he frames it on his bedside, and when you wake in his room the next morning, it greets you along with the back of his head, fast asleep.

your eyes flit to the view outside his window, the same pinks, purples, and orange hues. you tilt your head curiously, brows furrowing. the sun stays at the same spot above the horizon, and when you look at the painting again, the clouds hold the same position and shape.

a chill washes over you, your hearbeat pounding.

.

"what date is it today?" you ask suguru as you wash the potatoes in the sink.

another bag of groceries from suguru. now that you think about it, you don't think you've ever gone to the grocery store since moving.

"is it important?" he responds, slightly snappy. you've begun to notice that he hates it when you ask lately.

you eye him from the side.

"i was thinking of preparing a menu of what we'll eat during the holidays, if it's near."

the furrow on his brows smooths out as you give your answer, and so he says, "december 5."

and you know something is wrong, because that can't be it. it doesn't make sense with the sunrises you've counted.

.

you dream again, more and more as the days go by―dirt roads and your house and suguru's, run-down and empty. more things start breaking in your apartment, and suguru always knows when they need to be fixed.

there's a deep, twisting feeling in your stomach that intensifies, festering under your skin; it worsens in the mornings, when you sit with suguru at your porch and you think you see a crack in the sunrise.

.

sunrise valley the place where the sun never sets! ─── beautiful, bright, and destined for people who live just like you! find your new home here.

[DISCONTINUED] — FOR DEMOLITION ON DECEMBER 7. under investigation for suspicious spiritual activity and missing persons.

[farceurcole]

STARL-L-IGHT~ WE JUUSSST KNEW YOU’D SEE THINGS OUR WAY~EHEHEHEHEHEHE!!!

[mawsmauls]

All the parts you retained; A chimera of former lives slain.

[spideyhexx]

soft billy thought is that especially after the stargazing scene with his father i always think about how romantic he could find stargazing as a date especially with like a boss’s/sheriff’s daughter reader where he sneaks you out of your room to take you stargazing in the middle of the night

(accidentally falling asleep out there and having to rush you back as the sun is rising and it leaves for some very rushed kisses goodbye but you assure him it was the best night possible as he apologizes for keeping you out all night)

yeah :(

He’d probably choose that as your nightly activity after he knows you had a bad day. While Billy can’t be seen conversing with you during the day, he still overhears things, talk in town, about how hard your father was on you when you did the daily trip into town for supplies and food with him, which ended up in a scene, you getting scolded and humiliated by him right in the town center.

So Billy makes sure his evening is free. He doesn’t know if you’re gonna busy, he doesn’t know if you even want to see him, but after giving himself some words of encouragement, he makes his way right outside your window, like he’s done countless times before.

You’re startled when you see him pop up but it’s no hesitation. You get off your bed and open it, immediately speaking to him in a hushed whisper, “I didn’t know if you were coming.”

Billy gives a look like that’s the most ridiculous thing you could’ve said, “no hello?” He teases, with a soft smile but he quickly says, “‘f course I’d come,” and he nods his head out towards the fields, asking you to come with him for a few hours.

Of course you say yes. Once you’re both on the ground, he gives you a proper hug, kissing the top of your head and rubbing your back, relaying that he heard what had happened as the two of you start to walk. You rant to him about your father like you typically do and Billy continues to feel frustrated that you��re stuck with him as a father, that you two are stuck hiding away.

But he’s quick to reassure you he’d hide forever if it meant getting to spend time with you. Once you get to a good spot (at his choice), you both lay in the grass on your backs, opposite ways but heads against one another, looking up at the sky. His fingers caress yours, and he speaks in his softer tone, pointing out any constellations he can pick out.

You both try to make your own and he’s silly with it, so you’d laugh. That was his purpose tonight anyways. To get you smiling. Calm. As some time passes, you eventually shift to actually lay with him, your head on his chest, fiddling with a button on his shirt.

“this had gotta be the most romantic thing you’ve ever done for me,” you tell him and he’s happy you can’t see his face right now because he’s blushing hard.

“I’ll do it all over again if it’ll make you smile like before,” Billy says, fixing your jacket on you so you’re more covered, you being cold was a worry of his but the way you lean into him, he can tell you’re comfortable.

It was already in his mind that he had to get you back to your room, but the comfort do you against him and the crisp air lulled you both to sleep. It’s near sunrise when you wake, immediately panicking and shaking him awake.

He’s groggy and rubbing at his eyes as he sits up and puts his hat back on, standing up, tugging on your hand to help you stand. Billy’s got a tight grip on your hand the whole way back, terrified he’s ruined this and your father would find out.

“‘M so sorry, honey, I won’t fall asleep like that next time, you were just so…it was just so…,” he trails off and looks back to you once you stop under your window, your hands reaching to cradle his face and give his lips a quick peck.

“None of that apologizing. Was the best night, Billy.”

He looks into your eyes, with stars in his own, silent for a moment like he’s zoned out on you and your admiration. It makes you chuckle and pat his cheek, “Billy, I gotta go.”

“Right, yeah,” he chuckles, flushing, and gives your lips a peck too, then again, and again, smiling as your grin gets wider. He can’t he’ll but place small little kisses to your cheek and chin and jaw as you’re pulling away.

He stops reluctantly when he has to help you back up into your room and he turns his head expectantly, and you place a long, lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Have a good day, Billy,” you say to him, and he nods, “you too, honey,” before he leaves.

[httpiastri]

I have come to inform you about Paul and his cat

That’s all :3

thank you for the info!!!!!!!! pls i saw this ask first thing in the morning and i just went "!!! 😳 a CAT???? 😭"…….. im in love

[thisapplepielife]

In his van, Eddie sees a sign stuck right in the grass along the highway: 

Adult Poppers Next Right

Poppers? Here? Well, hell. He's never actually tried poppers before, but maybe he should. If they're being offered right here, right now.

It's a sign. Literally.

He follows the arrow to a tent. Inside, firework stand owner Steve definitely meant to advertise his line of adult snappers, but words are hard sometimes.

Steve sighs. Robin told him this would happen.

[phoebepheebsphibs]

Double-Mutated Mikey

Chapter 47/Epilogue: Mikey Done Good

Continued from the short story written by @boots-with-the-fur-club

Prev

It has been a month since Mikey's second rescue from the TCRI.

The lair is bright again. There is laughter again. Everyone smiles and jokes and has fun again.

It's a home again.

Casey Jones Jr. smiles as he works to tidy up the lair, moving the empty and flattened cardboard boxes over to a side tunnel so they can be placed in a dumpster later. Usually, none of them mind the clutter or the mess from moving, but they're having guests over tonight and Casey wants to make a good impression.

Speaking of, CJ gets a notif from the security system that April has arrived. She waltzes in moment later, smiling brightly.

"Whattup, family!" she yells loudly, announcing her arrival to all who didn't get the notification. "It's your favourite person! Apriiiiiiiiiiiiil O'Neil!!"

CJ rolls his eyes as Donatello and S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 come out to greet her.

"Hey, April!" Donnie responds, quickly fistbumping her in greeting. "How was class?"

"Pretty good. My report got an A, so I'd think I'm a shoo-in for the competitive writing finals this year. I heard the winners get to intern for Channel 6!"

Donnie rolls his eyes and smiles.

"You always did like the news."

"Congrats, bromigo!" S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N.2.0 cheers, activating a few streamers and confetti, much to Casey's annoyance at having to clean the hall again.

"Where's everybody else?" April asks, glancing up and down the halls.

"Raph is still getting the dining room set up," Donnie says. "And Mikey's making dinner."

"Mikey is?" April asks, eyes wide, yet nowhere near as wide as her smile. "He's cooking again?"

"We've been practicing a few recipes," Casey announces proudly. "He felt confident enough to try making some of the food tonight."

"Lemme guess... pizza?" April chuckles as she follows the others into the living room to help Raphael set up. "I can't wait for another Mikey original! So, is everybody coming tonight?"

"My mom said she'll be here in a bit," Casey answers as he starts wiping down the table for the fourth time. "Agent Bishop and Honeycutt will be arriving within the next fifteen minutes, I think."

"Pops and Draxum are still waiting for Leo to wrap up his appointment. They're cuttin' it close, but Leo promised to be on time," Raph says as he carries a stack of plates into the room. "Which means he'll be fashionably late again."

Donnie sneers.

"You'd think a guy who can make portals to any place on earth would understand how to be punctual."

"I still can't believe it's been a month," April awes. "Everything flew by so fast!"

"And it doesn't help that the one day at the TCRI felt like a whole week," Raph groans. "Hey, who's in charge of silverware?"

"I got it," Casey offers, running into the kitchen and returning a moment later with the cutlery. "So, Mikey made pizza, Raph made breadsticks, and I made salad."

"I brought mini shish kabobs and dip," April offers, holding up a tupperware with grilled veggies on skewers.

"Sounds great! Mom mentioned bringing brownies..." Casey recalls, "Bishop and the Professor offered to pick up drinks, and Master Splinter and the Baron said they'd grab some Yokai hors d'oeuvre from the Hidden City vendors. So I think we'll be good!"

The group continue to set up the dinner table just as three more guests enter from the subway tunnel.

"I HAVE ARRIVED!!!" Cassandra yells loudly, waving her hockey stick around like a crazed chimpanzee as she runs.

Cass rushes forwards and wraps her arms around CJ as tightly as she can. He reciprocates with a laugh.

"ᴡᴇ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀʟꜱᴏ ᴀʀʀɪᴠᴇᴅ," Fugitoid remarks as he and Bishop walk in next, "ʙᴜᴛ ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ꜱᴏ ɪɴ ᴀ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴄᴀʟᴍᴇʀ ᴍᴀɴɴᴇʀ."

"Hey, Professor!" Casey greets with a smile. "You're looking good. New upgrades?"

"ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜰᴏʀ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄɪɴɢ. ᴅᴏɴᴀᴛᴇʟʟᴏ ʜᴀꜱ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ʜᴇʟᴘꜰᴜʟ ᴛʜᴇꜱᴇ ᴘᴀꜱᴛ ꜰᴇᴡ ᴡᴇᴇᴋꜱ…"

"Anything for a fan of my work," Dee jokes. "And you've brought drinks. Any flavourless juice?"

"Sorry, just sodas," Bishop says, holding up a few grocery bags filled with large liters of name brand seltzers.

"We can't expect you to be perfect all the time," Donnie grumbles.

"Where's Mikey?" Bishop asks.

"If he heard Cass's war cry, then he should be here any second --"

Almost on cue, Mikey comes bounding out of the kitchen at full speed, pouncing at Cass and zipping around her waist and shoulders in excitement like a hyped-up cat. He eventually perches just above her shoulders, chirping excitedly and giving her a noogie. She laughs as she reaches up and pulls him down, matching his energy and nooging him right back.

Mikey laughs before releasing his hold on her and running over to Bishop and Fugitoid, reacting much more calmly and rising to stand on two legs for them.

"Hi, guys!" he says, a smile growing across his doughy and flour-caked face.

"ꜱᴏ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ, ᴍɪᴋᴇʏ!" Fugitoid greets. "ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ᴡᴇʟʟ."

"Thanks! I'm all patched up now, see?" Mikey says as he enthusiastically shows off the large scars on his abdomen and neck. "My only complaint is the physical therapy's boring; but it is helping me to get back into my old hobbies!"

"I see you've taken up cooking?" Bishop asks, pulling a small chunk of sticky dough off Mikey's face.

"Oh, yeah. Whoops! I got a little carried away... but the pizza should be done in a while! Just enough time to talk about stuff and wait for the rest to get here! We can catch up!"

"Yeah, how's it going with the whole TCRI business?" Casey asks as he takes the brownies and sodas into the kitchen, the rest following after him and Mikey.

"Going really well," Bishop nods with a smile. "Which is surprising, considering everything. You'd think an evil corporation would try to hide their misdeeds, but what with all the leadership gone, everyone's turning on each other and revealing the truth!"

"Seriously?" Raph asks, eyes wide. "That's awesome!"

"Why haven't we heard anything about it on the news?" April asks.

"I doubt the local police will let any kind of news about a failed government study get in the public eye," Bishop sighs. "But they're handling it pretty well. Most scientists want to plea bargain, and from what I've heard the TCRI will be completely and permanently shut down within the next few days. Not just the sites stationed in NYC, but all over the globe! Then there's proceedings, court hearings, lawsuits from disgruntled employees for harassment, assault, and unfair work environments, just to name a few."

"Sounds like you have your hands full!" April laughs, moving aside as Mikey skirts behind her to retrieve a bottle of tomato sauce for the pizza.

"ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴇ'ʀᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛᴇᴅ!" Fugitoid chimes in. "ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴄʀɪ ɪɴ ꜱʜᴀᴍʙʟᴇꜱ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴜɴɪᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴛᴀᴛᴇꜱ ɢᴏᴠᴇʀɴᴍᴇɴᴛ ɪꜱ ʟᴏᴏᴋɪɴɢ ꜰᴏʀ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ɴᴇᴡ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ'ꜱ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ!"

"And that's where you two come in, hm?" Donnie asks with a smirk.

"I think it's time we rebuilt the Earth Protection Force from the ground up," Bishop nods. "Make it the way it was supposed to be. Something we can actually rely on."

Mikey smiles brightly at the agent as he shreds the cheese over the pizza dough and tomato paste. Though in his distraction, he accidentally spreads the cheese onto the countertop rather than the pizza itself. He hastily scoops up the cheese and sprinkles it back wherever it looks needed.

"Well, you're perfect for the job!" Casey beams.

"And I know a few girl scouts who would be VERY EXCITED to help!" Cass exclaims, forgetting her inside voice for a moment.

"I'll take that under consideration," Bishop responds with a roll of his eyes. "I could use some extra help. There are a lot of bad guys out there..."

"Speaking of," Raph slides in, clearing his throat. "Any updates on a certain 'you know who' and her location?"

"Abigail Finn is still incognito," Bishop sighs. "Though, Donatello's facial tracking system and security measures have helped us to keep a few tabs on her. But she's staying discreet, keeping a low profile and avoiding anything illegal. Which is good."

"Just give me a reason to annihilate her," Donnie whispers to himself. "Or to at least let me go semi-lethal..."

"Have you made any attempts to arrest her?" Casey asks.

"We... considered it," Bishop sighs. "But we felt that it would be better to let it slide. If we did make any attempts, you can bet she'd try to twist the truth and reveal everything she knows about you guys."

"So essentially, you're at a stalemate," Casey grumbles.

"Pretty much. We know dirt on her, she knows dirt on us. So long as we stay out of each others' ways, we're fine."

"ᴇɴᴏᴜɢʜ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʜᴇʀ. ᴡʜᴀᴛ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ? ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ?" Fugitoid asks.

"Mostly helpin' with recovery," Raph answers. "In different ways."

"ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴠᴇʀʏ ɢᴏɪɴɢ, ᴍɪᴄʜᴇʟᴀɴɢᴇʟᴏ?"

Mikey sighs as he shoves the pizza into the oven. Not a begrudging sigh, but more of a 'where do I start' kind of sigh.

"Well... it's been a lot. First was the whole bedridden thing. Then the physical therapy started. Case was a HUGE help with that, he's an expert on it! And after that... it was a mix of stuff. My memory's gotten better, thanks to Draxum's mystic goop. He said by the rate I'm healing at, all my memories should be back by the end of the month!"

"ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ!" Fugitoid remarks, though the 'mystic goop' comment flies right over his head.

"Yeah... but it's not always easy," Mikey admits. "I have some bad days, a few relapses. Sometimes I still forget names and call one of my brothers by their life-colour instead. Sometimes I talk in the third person instead of the first. Some days I can't talk at all! Walking is... still wacky and tough to get used to. I'm comfortable doing both two legs and four, but I'm faster on four. My vision still acts up, but I've learned to control it a bit better. Dee and I have been training it to shift on command instead of in reaction to light! All in all, adjusting is weird."

"I bet," Bishop nods.

"Wildest thing -- pun intended -- is the whole 'animalistic traits' junk that happens. Like, I still don't get some social cues?" Mikey admits. "Like most people shake hands, but I'll smell or sniff a person first. Most people hug, I climb on them and wrap my whole body around them like a snake. I'll growl if I'm angry. Sometimes I bite when I get startled. Stuff like that."

"Don't forget that one week where you kept making nests all over the lair and storing food in your room," Donnie chimes in.

"I'm just glad you haven't tried to mark your territory or anything," Raph jokes.

Mikey gives him a joking side-glare before continuing.

"Well anyways, it's been weird and confusing but I'm doing a lot better now. I'm really happy again! Which, I'll be honest... surprises me sometimes. The nightmares aren't as constant. They happen, and sometimes I wake up and I don't know where I am. But my family's there to help whenever. I didn't think I'd be this happy this much for a long time... But here we are!"

April starts tearing up out of joy and goes to hug Mikey, who laughs and hugs her back.

"ʜᴀᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴏɴ ᴀɴʏ ᴍɪꜱꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ʏᴇᴛ?" Fugitoid wonders.

"One or two," Mikey shrugs. "Though Raph would rather I wait a little longer. I'm kinda glad I kept the mutations, they really help with tracking and stuff -- and the looks on the villains' faces when I start climbing the walls is priceless!" Mikey cackles.

"ᴀɴᴅ… ᴛʜᴇ ɪɴᴛʀᴜꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛꜱ?"

"Not as bad," Mikey explains. "Practically gone. Sure, Instinct pops up every once in a while. He really likes to talk during fights and junk. But Raph's been helping me out with him."

Raphael smiles proudly at the mention.

"Therapy's been good too," Mikey continues. "It helps to just... talk it out with someone."

"You've been doing therapy?" Bishop asks in pleasant surprise. "With who? A human therapist?"

"Actually, there's a Yokai clinic in the Hidden City," Mikey smiles. "Draxum recommended it to Leo, and Leo recommend it to all of us."

"Ohhhh, so is that the appointment Casey mentioned?" April asks.

"Yeah," Mikey says with a grin. "I'm really happy that Leo took the initiative to go, that was huge for him. And he's doing a lot better, too!"

Mikey continues to explain their experiences with their therapists as he works with the pizza, pulling it from the oven and sprinkling garlic and herbs into the crust before setting it back in for a few more minutes...

"Leo's therapist has been giving him tips on how to improve his mental health, gain more self-worth, and deal with his own intrusive thoughts. He said I'd like talking to them, so I went in for a sort of trial run. It was... a little awkward at first. The initial couple of sessions were just us getting to know each other and my therapist asking about my family and some hobbies, which I kinda didn't expect at first? I guess I figured that we'd jump right into the issue... But the more we talked, the closer we got and the easier it was for me to open up about my traumas and problems. So, uh, there's that!"

Mikey chuckles as he checks on the pizza again. Five more minutes, maybe... He sighs as he leaps onto the kitchen counter and perches there.

"So, I guess this is our new normal," April notes. "Everything seems to be all wrapped up for the most part."

"Except for one thing," Cassandra grumbles. "The blue turtle and his fathers aren't here yet! I want to eat the pizza already!!"

"It's not even out of the oven," Raph scolds.

"I'LL EAT IT WITH MY BARE HANDS!" Cass shouts, pumping her fists. "I'LL EAT IT STRAIGHT OUT OF THE FIRE! IT'S NO MATCH FOR ME!!"

"Uh-huh, suuuuuuure," April jokes.

"When is Leo getting back, though?" Mikey asks.

"By my calculations, he'll be here in the next three minutes," Donnie declares. "My tracker says he and Papa and Draxum just left the Yokai clinic and should be getting their contributions for dinner right about now."

"Great! They'll arrive just in time for the pizza..."

The group continue talking about whatever they can until Leonardo's portal illuminates the outer room. Warm welcomes, questions on how the session went, how Leo's doing, what Draxum has been up to, and so on until everyone decides that they are starving and sit themselves down for dinner.

The group catch Leo up to the discussion through the salad and appetizers. He huffs at the mention of Dr. Finn. Draxum catches the others up on the recent finishes to his home and how Huginn and Muninn have come back to work for him again.

Fugitoid pretends to eat the food, which causes Casey Jones to snort his soda through his nose and the entire table laughs, even John Bishop.

Mikey uses his mutated tongue to snag an hors d'oeuvre off of Leo's plate when he isn't looking. Splinter sees and snickers loudly, which alerts Leo to Mikey's second and third attempts.

The pizza comes out a few minutes later, hot and ready. The crust is a bit warped and has strange knots, the cheese is mismatched and looks odd, and the toppings are strangely arranged. It's the wackiest-looking flatbread the world has ever seen.

Yet when each guest takes a bite, they are wonderfully surprised. It is quite possibly the most delicious pizza in the world, despite its flaws and outward appearance.

"Mikey, you made this?" Leo asks with shock as he chows down on the slice.

Mikey nods as he eats his own cheesy triangle.

"Wow, dude! This tastes awesome!"

Mikey's smile stretches across his face as Leo pats him on the back.

"You did good, Mikey! You did really good."

The End.

Prev || AO3

[athina-blaine]

Summary:

Kabru knew that this idyllic peace wouldn’t last but, for once, he fought against the urge to dwell on his worries. Not when he had the object of his fascination underneath his fingertips. Not when Laios looked at him with such naked, earnest affection. Not when everything was so delicately perfect.

Perfect.

Except for—

Kabru pulled away, taking a moment to relish the sound of Laios’ faint whine before putting on his most demure smile.

“It’s alright if you want to touch me, you know.”

-

What does it mean to feel truly sated?

Rating: Explicit Relationships: Kabru/Laios Touden Chapters: 2/3 Word Count: ~4.9k Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Developing Relationship, Trans Male Character, Character Study, Post-Canon, Alcohol, Communication Issues, Frottage, Oral Sex Beta'd by @yuri-puppies and @tofixtheshadows

Chapter 2

The royal study, Kabru had determined, was the perfect place to conduct an unscheduled document review with His Majesty.

For starters, it had a soft, squishy chair with a wide enough base that Kabru could comfortably straddle Laios’ lap without his knees getting sore. The room offered a delightful view of the castle gardens, perfectly angled to avoid the glare of the setting sun and any prying eyes from below. But, most importantly, if anyone were to be seeking out an audience with His Majesty, his official study would be the last place they’d think to look. Anybody in the know knew the real study lay underneath a shady oak tree in the grand courtyard, and this suited Kabru’s purposes just fine.

Kabru dragged his tongue across the seam of Laios’ mouth, savoring the low sound that rumbled deep inside Laios’ chest. He whispered a scolding hush against whimpering lips. Nobody was looking for him here, yes, but that didn’t mean they had to go around tempting fate.

Laios hummed, leaning back to gaze up at Kabru with a dreamy grin. “You’re really good at that.”

“Thank you,” said Kabru as he brushed his fingers through Laios’ hair. “You’ve mentioned that before, you know.”

“Well, yeah, you’re still good at it.” He tilted his head up, gazing at Kabru with pleading eyes. “More, please?”

Laughing through his nose, Kabru leaned back down to fulfill his liege’s request. He did say please.

It was all so thrilling. Up until this point, Kabru had always followed the conventional wisdom of avoiding inter-party romance. He’d never had sex with someone he’d call a friend. He’d never even told his partners where he lived. After all, he hadn’t come to the island seeking romance. Better for everyone involved if he left that sort of thing in his old smut novels.

But the island and its grievances were behind him. Now, Kabru had been given the luxury of time. Time to nurture and grow something between himself and someone he cared about. Time to know someone beyond what could be learned in a single night. He had time to sleep in until the sun warmed his face, arms wrapped around a warm chest and soft sides. Kabru had time, a concept that occasionally overwhelmed him. How fortunate to have someone so eager to spend it with him.

Kabru knew that this idyllic peace wouldn’t last but, for once, he fought against the urge to dwell on his worries. Not when he had the object of his fascination underneath his fingertips. Not when Laios looked at him with such naked, earnest affection. Not when everything was so delicately perfect.

Perfect.

Except for—

Kabru pulled away, taking a moment to relish the sound of Laios’ faint whine before putting on his most demure smile.

“It’s alright if you want to touch me, you know.”

[Continue on AO3]